(no subject)
Once upon a time, she lived on an island.
It was called Muir. And it wasn’t exactly magical, for all there were fairies, sometimes, and there were sorceress, and witches, even.
But it was close.
It wasn’t paradise. It was cold, and wet, and foggy most the time, and sometimes she would sit on the top of the light house and stare at the water and wonder what the hell she was doing.
But it was, y’know. Home, for a while, when her father was hiding and her mother was working and living a normal life.
And she met someone who was the total opposite of a prince there. And fell in love. And then things went to hell, because there really aren’t happily ever afters. Just one more morning and another night, forever and always.
But sometimes things work out anyway. So sometimes she looks at her photobook, and holds her son on her lap, and softly tells him about an island, and his father, and sorceress and pirates and other worlds.
And most of it’s even true.
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