Chioniphobia

Fairytale

Once upon a time, there was a lady.

This lady smiled and laughed, but she did not live. The world feared her, for things that do not live should not smile and laugh. What they could not see that was her heart was broken. Most things that do not live cannot have broken hearts, for most must have their hearts beating in order for them to break. So the lady was alone, and she stayed so for a long time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Grim danced with Pitch for hours that night, twirling through the silent, bloodstained halls of the abbey. They stepped over and upon the bodies of the prince's cronies, though not on the prince himself- Grim steered their course quite clear of the black room.

Afterwards, they drank, Pitch sipping demurely and Grim gulping from goblets filled to the brim.

"Are you trying to give yourself a hangover worse than all of your previous ones combined, or are you hoping to put yourself into a coma?" the Boogeyman commented dryly.

"And who says I'm not going for both?" the Reaper slurred before taking a hearty swig straight from a bottle.

Pitch chuckled and took another sip from his not-quite-half-emptied cup. "You're going to hate yourself for this in the morning..." He glanced out a window contemplatively. "...or later today, as it were."

Grim laughed hysterically.

"The round Moon rolled behind the hill,

the Sun raised up her head.

She hardly believed her fiery eyes;

though it was day, to her surprise

they all went back to bed!" she belted drunkenly, emphasizing the last verse by sweeping her hand to indicate the bodies scattered across the floor.

"Oh, the sun's far from rising right now, darling. Your sins won't see daylight for a couple hours yet."

Grim wrinkled her nose. "It's not sinning if it's your job, dear," she corrected, wagging a reprimanding finger at her companion before taking another gulp of wine.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Try telling that to your brother. Every time I try to scare a child, he takes issue with it like it's a personal affront."

"Well, maybe getting in your way is his job, hobgoblin. Have you considered that?"

"It's a stupid job," he grumbled with his lips to his goblet. "He's always had a problem with me, but ever since his little 'promotion' from Mim he's been positively insufferable. Can't a specter haunt in peace nowadays?"

Grim stuck out her tongue. "If you can't rest in peace, what's the point of doing anything else in peace?"

"Don't get philosophical now. I'm not drunk yet."

She opened her mouth to retort, her head lolling back, but the only thing that came out was a snore.

Grim woke alone in the dark, with a hangover that, if not worse than, certainly rivalled all her previous hangovers to date. This was not helped by the fact that the first sight greeting her eyes upon her opening them was the moon shining full and bright through the window. She groaned and threw a hand over her face.

"Not now, Mim. Turn it off," she grumbled.

The moon, most disagreeably, did not turn off.

With a resigned sigh, Grim slowly peeled herself off the ground and stumbled her way through to the doors leading outside. Upon opening the door, she immediately regretted her decision, her brow creasing as the moonlight seared her face.