Para||els (2/?)
Part 1
I really loved the Magic Mirror origin story (though I'm hoping that doesn't make him the genie in the Aladdin story) but mostly I was struck by how much self-loathing the poor mirror must have! He loves her, he hates her, he's stuck with her forever. How do you take that and try to not make it TOO angsty? I assume the only person who's ever shown her love to a fault was her father, surely the genie isn't dumb though to not resent her just a bit? Anyway, I digress. Any feedback would be lovely.
Word Count: 1,537
Mirror
He sighed glumly as he watched the queen cry quietly. Though he knew he shouldn’t believe that they were real, he wished that he could take her into his arms and wipe away her tears.
Oh, how many times he had seen the way love ruins lives! He had never thought he would be one to fall victim, and yet he had never dared to dream that he could ever find love. The minute he had laid eyes on the queen, he was hers. The one brief kiss they had ever shared in front of the apple tree, the only kiss he had ever known, had left him delirious and wanting more. Being trapped in a mirror had forced him to face the truth: He had been blinded by beauty and sugared words, he had betrayed the only person who had ever shown him true kindness, then betrayed again by the one he thought was his one true love.
It had been a mistake to talk to the king before he succumbed to death. His heart still felt guilty; that is, if he even had a heart anymore. It had been a greater mistake to use the last wish.
You know the rules, one of the other genies had said scornfully, examining his fingernails. To undo the magic you would have to find another lamp with one of us inside and rub it. Which would be difficult, I suppose, seeing as how you no longer have hands.
Yet another genie had been deservedly harsher. In all our years, in all our time, and I have never seen a stupider genie to squander freedom on the promises of false love. Now leave my mirror, stalker.
Within a day, desperation led to denial, denial to quick and quiet acceptance. Now, as he looked upon the queen’s quiet sobs, he remembered the last time he had seen her so emotional. She hadn’t been crying then, but her hatred had been undeniably genuine.
She had smiled triumphantly as he struggled to get out of the small, handheld mirror. Well, it looks like you got your wish. You will be with me forever. She had preened a bit then, no doubt pleased with how things had worked out. Now tell me genie…or should I say, mirror. Mirror, who’s the fairest of them all?
He stopped his struggling, knowing the answer. My dear, there is no competition
She smiled. Tell me.
He had countered her smile with a bitter one of his own. In your heart, you know the truth.
Say it, she commanded.
Snow, your majesty, he had said in a spiteful tone. Snow White is the fairest of them all.
With a scream, she had thrown the handheld mirror, the only link he had to his past, across the room. He braced for impact, wondering if death would be greet him calmly, only to hear the distinct sound of glass shattering, and felt then a soft pinch. When he opened his eyes, he was across the room in a small mirror on the table.
Skin as white as snow! he shouted triumphantly, seeing the queen turn around in anger and horror, wondering where the voice was coming from. Lips as red as blood.
With a snarl, she stalked towards the small mirror. As a small box crashed through his face, he felt another pinch and was whisked away to the largest mirror hanging on the wall. Hair, as black as ebony!
The queen whirled about again, own her hair in disarray, her eyes wild at his taunting. SILENCE!
As long as Snow White lives, you will NEVER be the fairest.
She had stopped her rampage then, a slow smile spreading across her face. And once again, he wished that he had kept his mouth shut. He shuddered slightly, as much as he could anyway, as she dropped the golden paperweight she had been carrying and slowly slithered toward the mirror.
You’re right, she said, slowly stroking the mirror glass. Though he couldn’t feel her touch, her voice had taken on that intoxicating tone that spelled danger, but the one he couldn’t fight against. As long as Snow White lives…
I was just going to imprison her, I never liked her anyway. She acts so innocent and pure but she is NO saint. You’re right Mirror, I have no use for her. Her value to me is the same dead as alive, except I wouldn’t have to see her wretched face every day.
He knew then that he was hopelessly in love with a psychopath
He truly hated her, but he couldn’t escape. If he couldn’t have her, at least he could try to protect her by moving through mirrors and spying. If she couldn’t love him, then at least he could try to be the one she depended on. It was a disgusting relationship, but he couldn’t help it.
Judging by her anguish over killing her own father though, it seems as if the dark curse would work. Maybe in the next world, wherever she was sending them all, he could truly be free.
Or even better yet, dead. It was the only way to escape her spell.
//
Sidney Glass
Love is blind, he thinks, looking into the mirror. Regina has long left but the smell of her perfume lingers in his bed. It’s hypnotizing, just like her.
He frowns as he catches a glimpse of a file sitting on his dresser. It’s the file that he and Regina had compiled on the sheriff, and for a fleeting second, he feels a twinge of guilt. He’s never pretended to be a saint, but he does feel uneasy about Regina’s latest task.
He and the mayor had been friends for as long as he could remember, and he had always had a crush on her. She was attractive, but more importantly, she was powerful. As a reporter, power meant access. He’s always had dreams bigger than this silly town, and if that meant catering to the mayor’s wishes, physical or otherwise, then he would do it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. In reality, it had been harder to use and discard the mayor than he thought. The town feared her, but she opened up to him. Her biggest fear, he knew, was that she would never be a good enough mother. She had come to him, crying, the night Emma Swan had come into town, afraid that she had lost Henry together.
It hadn’t been difficult for her to convince him to spin some not-so-flattering stories about Emma in the paper. And even though Sidney discreetly watched from his window that night as she climbed back into her car, wet a tissue with a water bottle and dabbed it under her eyes before calmly reapplying her lipstick, he still felt sorry for her. He felt sorry that she had to go to such lengths to appear sad to try to invoke sympathy from her son.
Henry was an ungrateful, unappreciative brat anyway.
Though he knew next to nothing about law enforcement, when Regina whispered to him that there was nothing more attractive than a man in uniform, he was game. They spent countless hours together on his campaign, and he fell more and more in love with her. When Emma won, he assumed it had been the end of that.
He had underestimated Regina’s wrath, something that he would never do again.
It should be shocking how easily he was able to deceive and betray the sheriff’s trust but he rationalized that he never liked her anyway. Though whether this was because he was preconditioned by Regina not to or now, he couldn’t tell. Did it matter?
He looked in the mirror again. Truth be told, all these things should bother him. Reporters should have some sense of morality. He was a grown man, ensnared in a web of rather childish deceit. The sheriff should respect some boundaries of her closed adoption, Regina should stop trying to control everyone, and he should be traveling the world, reporting on more important matters.
Instead, he found himself waking up every day with no real intention of leaving Storybrooke. Every time he fancied the thought, he thought of Regina’s face, her body, her lips, and he knew he could never leave her. It was utterly barbaric, but he would fight for her, die for her. And yet, she’s never promised him a future, nothing beyond immediate pleasure. Just enough to keep him hooked.
He poured himself a stiff drink and downed the whole thing while he turned back to his bed. In his first (and last) session with Dr. Hopper, he was asked one question that he hadn’t been able to fully answer.
When you look in the mirror, do you like the person that you see?
If part of his reflection ripples and Regina is standing next to him, then yes. He likes who he is when she’s around even though he shouldn't. But if it’s just him alone...he’s not so sure. He likes to think that if his life weren’t so dependent on this one women’s opinion, things could be different. Things could be better.
He could feel more…free.
I really loved the Magic Mirror origin story (though I'm hoping that doesn't make him the genie in the Aladdin story) but mostly I was struck by how much self-loathing the poor mirror must have! He loves her, he hates her, he's stuck with her forever. How do you take that and try to not make it TOO angsty? I assume the only person who's ever shown her love to a fault was her father, surely the genie isn't dumb though to not resent her just a bit? Anyway, I digress. Any feedback would be lovely.
Word Count: 1,537
Mirror
He sighed glumly as he watched the queen cry quietly. Though he knew he shouldn’t believe that they were real, he wished that he could take her into his arms and wipe away her tears.
Oh, how many times he had seen the way love ruins lives! He had never thought he would be one to fall victim, and yet he had never dared to dream that he could ever find love. The minute he had laid eyes on the queen, he was hers. The one brief kiss they had ever shared in front of the apple tree, the only kiss he had ever known, had left him delirious and wanting more. Being trapped in a mirror had forced him to face the truth: He had been blinded by beauty and sugared words, he had betrayed the only person who had ever shown him true kindness, then betrayed again by the one he thought was his one true love.
It had been a mistake to talk to the king before he succumbed to death. His heart still felt guilty; that is, if he even had a heart anymore. It had been a greater mistake to use the last wish.
You know the rules, one of the other genies had said scornfully, examining his fingernails. To undo the magic you would have to find another lamp with one of us inside and rub it. Which would be difficult, I suppose, seeing as how you no longer have hands.
Yet another genie had been deservedly harsher. In all our years, in all our time, and I have never seen a stupider genie to squander freedom on the promises of false love. Now leave my mirror, stalker.
Within a day, desperation led to denial, denial to quick and quiet acceptance. Now, as he looked upon the queen’s quiet sobs, he remembered the last time he had seen her so emotional. She hadn’t been crying then, but her hatred had been undeniably genuine.
She had smiled triumphantly as he struggled to get out of the small, handheld mirror. Well, it looks like you got your wish. You will be with me forever. She had preened a bit then, no doubt pleased with how things had worked out. Now tell me genie…or should I say, mirror. Mirror, who’s the fairest of them all?
He stopped his struggling, knowing the answer. My dear, there is no competition
She smiled. Tell me.
He had countered her smile with a bitter one of his own. In your heart, you know the truth.
Say it, she commanded.
Snow, your majesty, he had said in a spiteful tone. Snow White is the fairest of them all.
With a scream, she had thrown the handheld mirror, the only link he had to his past, across the room. He braced for impact, wondering if death would be greet him calmly, only to hear the distinct sound of glass shattering, and felt then a soft pinch. When he opened his eyes, he was across the room in a small mirror on the table.
Skin as white as snow! he shouted triumphantly, seeing the queen turn around in anger and horror, wondering where the voice was coming from. Lips as red as blood.
With a snarl, she stalked towards the small mirror. As a small box crashed through his face, he felt another pinch and was whisked away to the largest mirror hanging on the wall. Hair, as black as ebony!
The queen whirled about again, own her hair in disarray, her eyes wild at his taunting. SILENCE!
As long as Snow White lives, you will NEVER be the fairest.
She had stopped her rampage then, a slow smile spreading across her face. And once again, he wished that he had kept his mouth shut. He shuddered slightly, as much as he could anyway, as she dropped the golden paperweight she had been carrying and slowly slithered toward the mirror.
You’re right, she said, slowly stroking the mirror glass. Though he couldn’t feel her touch, her voice had taken on that intoxicating tone that spelled danger, but the one he couldn’t fight against. As long as Snow White lives…
I was just going to imprison her, I never liked her anyway. She acts so innocent and pure but she is NO saint. You’re right Mirror, I have no use for her. Her value to me is the same dead as alive, except I wouldn’t have to see her wretched face every day.
He knew then that he was hopelessly in love with a psychopath
He truly hated her, but he couldn’t escape. If he couldn’t have her, at least he could try to protect her by moving through mirrors and spying. If she couldn’t love him, then at least he could try to be the one she depended on. It was a disgusting relationship, but he couldn’t help it.
Judging by her anguish over killing her own father though, it seems as if the dark curse would work. Maybe in the next world, wherever she was sending them all, he could truly be free.
Or even better yet, dead. It was the only way to escape her spell.
//
Sidney Glass
Love is blind, he thinks, looking into the mirror. Regina has long left but the smell of her perfume lingers in his bed. It’s hypnotizing, just like her.
He frowns as he catches a glimpse of a file sitting on his dresser. It’s the file that he and Regina had compiled on the sheriff, and for a fleeting second, he feels a twinge of guilt. He’s never pretended to be a saint, but he does feel uneasy about Regina’s latest task.
He and the mayor had been friends for as long as he could remember, and he had always had a crush on her. She was attractive, but more importantly, she was powerful. As a reporter, power meant access. He’s always had dreams bigger than this silly town, and if that meant catering to the mayor’s wishes, physical or otherwise, then he would do it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. In reality, it had been harder to use and discard the mayor than he thought. The town feared her, but she opened up to him. Her biggest fear, he knew, was that she would never be a good enough mother. She had come to him, crying, the night Emma Swan had come into town, afraid that she had lost Henry together.
It hadn’t been difficult for her to convince him to spin some not-so-flattering stories about Emma in the paper. And even though Sidney discreetly watched from his window that night as she climbed back into her car, wet a tissue with a water bottle and dabbed it under her eyes before calmly reapplying her lipstick, he still felt sorry for her. He felt sorry that she had to go to such lengths to appear sad to try to invoke sympathy from her son.
Henry was an ungrateful, unappreciative brat anyway.
Though he knew next to nothing about law enforcement, when Regina whispered to him that there was nothing more attractive than a man in uniform, he was game. They spent countless hours together on his campaign, and he fell more and more in love with her. When Emma won, he assumed it had been the end of that.
He had underestimated Regina’s wrath, something that he would never do again.
It should be shocking how easily he was able to deceive and betray the sheriff’s trust but he rationalized that he never liked her anyway. Though whether this was because he was preconditioned by Regina not to or now, he couldn’t tell. Did it matter?
He looked in the mirror again. Truth be told, all these things should bother him. Reporters should have some sense of morality. He was a grown man, ensnared in a web of rather childish deceit. The sheriff should respect some boundaries of her closed adoption, Regina should stop trying to control everyone, and he should be traveling the world, reporting on more important matters.
Instead, he found himself waking up every day with no real intention of leaving Storybrooke. Every time he fancied the thought, he thought of Regina’s face, her body, her lips, and he knew he could never leave her. It was utterly barbaric, but he would fight for her, die for her. And yet, she’s never promised him a future, nothing beyond immediate pleasure. Just enough to keep him hooked.
He poured himself a stiff drink and downed the whole thing while he turned back to his bed. In his first (and last) session with Dr. Hopper, he was asked one question that he hadn’t been able to fully answer.
When you look in the mirror, do you like the person that you see?
If part of his reflection ripples and Regina is standing next to him, then yes. He likes who he is when she’s around even though he shouldn't. But if it’s just him alone...he’s not so sure. He likes to think that if his life weren’t so dependent on this one women’s opinion, things could be different. Things could be better.
He could feel more…free.