Chapter Text
Chloe was six when she fell down an open rabbit hole.
It was old and forgotten, covered up by grass and thin brambles. The thing was an accident waiting to happen, and Chloe was the unfortunate soul who happened to stumble upon it. She shrieked as she fell, tumbling into the narrow tunnel, hitting roots and rocks on her way down. Thankfully the hole went nowhere; it was just a regular rabbit burrow that had grown treacherous over time.
Looking back, Chloe wished more than anything that it had been a portal to Wonderland.
She hit the bottom hard, her landing softened only by a shallow layer of standing water. Her head cracked against the ground, causing everything to go fuzzy. There wasn’t much she could remember about her time in that hole; it could’ve been minutes or days she was trapped down there. But what Chloe could remember was a stranger. A figure who came out of the darkness like a shadow and sat beside her. The girl—she was most certainly a she—spoke softly in a tongue Chloe didn’t understand. Her whispering tugged the back of her mind, easing her pain and fear of the dark. A cold hand delicately touched her temple, one that oozed blood from a decent sized gash.
It was some sort of hallucination; a vision caused by a head wound. That’s what the doctors said, at least. But the figure with dark black eyes and vibrant red hair seemed so real, the top half of her young face mangled and twisted into scars. Chloe felt she should’ve been scared of such a face, looming over her like a ghoul. But she was a comfort, speaking in her strange language and petting her hair until rescue arrived.
Chad had been with her the day she fell, meaning he’d run all the way back to the palace for help. Chloe was brought out of the hole using ropes, passed to her mother’s arms who wept in panic. The girl who’d been with her down in the pit wasn’t pulled up; she was still there, just a figment of her imagination. Her mother made a royal command right then and there:
“I want all rabbit holes in the kingdom to be found and blocked off immediately! This will not happen again!”
And that was that. A few days in bed and some stitches and she was good as new, but the experience lingered. Not just for her, who dreamed of the strange face down in the dark of a rabbit hole. But also her mother and father, who realized just how easy it was to lose a child. Chad, being a boy, got to do whatever he wanted. But she was suddenly treated like her mothers pair of glass slippers.
“It’s too dangerous for you to go outside, dear,” mother tutted when she asked to return to the woods. “Stay here, where it’s safe.”
She asked her father too, but he just shook his head. Mother’s royal command had grown. Dozens of rabbit holes were blocked off around the kingdom, the creatures removed from their homes and taken elsewhere to live. And she? Well…she was suddenly not allowed to do anything. No more time spent in the forest, no more horse riding or wrestling with Chad, no more promises from father to get her a practice saber. She was fragile, too easy to lose, and she was to do nothing more than remain inside and learn the things mother deemed ‘safe’.
At almost eighteen years old, Chloe wished she’d never fallen into that rabbit hole. Taking a swipe at a burlap mannequin with her makeshift sword, it barely made a scratch with such a dull edge. Groaning in irritation at its inefficiency, Chloe stabbed at the bag, only to wince as the tip failed to penetrate the target, causing her arm to tweak. The blade clattered from her hand, causing her to curse as she looked towards the door. Footsteps. Hurriedly kicking her weapon under a table, the door to the training room opened.
Mother looked splendid as usual in her gown of pale blue silk and neatly trimmed lace. Her face though, normally serene, was pinched unhappily. Chloe tucked both hands behind her back, hiding chafed red palms as the Queen pinned her with a stare.
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?”
“Nothing, mother.”
“This isn’t a safe place for you.” The Queen crossed the room till they were face to face. “Step away.”
Chloe slumped. “Mother, please…”
“Don’t make me ask twice.”
Groaning in unhappiness, Chloe shifted over, revealing the empty tabletop. She hoped mother would just believe her, but she almost never did. Knowingly, the woman bent down to glance into the shadows underneath.
“Someone, please fetch this.” Waving a hand at the abandoned weapon, a steward knelt down to grab the blade, holding it up for the Queen to see. She clucked unhappily, pivoting and holding out her arms. “Hands.”
“It’s not mine.”
“Chloe Guenevere, show me your hands.” Chloe whined but held up her palms, still rubbed raw from a leather wrapped hilt. Mother grabbed one, staring at the blisters. “Oh dear.”
“It’s just chafing,” Chloe drawled, rolling her eyes. “I just wanted to try it.”
“Fighting with swords is not a hobby for young ladies,” her mother complained. “You should be in music lessons. Your teacher is up there waiting. As for this weapon, somebody take it to be destroyed.”
Chloe felt pain ache in her as she lunged for the sword (she’d spent months making it), only to be grabbed by one of her mothers entourage. “Mom, no!”
The Queen made a ‘silence’ motion with her palm. “I want better locks installed on this room immediately.”
“You don’t let me do anything!” Chloe spat, shaking the stewards hand from her arm. “Why do you insist on making me a prisoner?”
“A prisoner?” Mother’s brows went up as she turned, placing an offended hand to her chest. “How dare you imply such a thing. I want nothing more than to protect you, dearest.”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” Chloe complained, frowning as the woman touched her scalp. The scar was still visible from all those years ago, barely hidden under wisps of her blue hair. It was just a painless mark to her. She often forgot it was even there. But it was a permanent reminder to her mother how easy it was to lose her. “Chad got to do whatever he wanted. You didn’t even send me to Auradon Prep! I’m eighteen, mom; I can handle myself.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it, young lady,” the Queen ordered. “Return my daughter to her room. Tell her music instructor she won’t be attending lessons today.”
Chloe blinked in confusion. “What?”
“You’re grounded until I say otherwise.”
“But mom!”
“I’ll send the royal physician to handle these blisters. You’re not to leave your room until dinner.”
“But…I…ugh, you’re the worst.” Scowling as two of her mother’s staff prodded her forward, all that was missing was the shackles and chains. This palace was massive, the ceilings tall and shimmering with crystal chandeliers. Knights in silver armor warped her reflection as she walked by them, while their footsteps echoed on the marble floors. But despite all the space in this castle, it was still suffocating. She couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without permission. A few blisters were enough to send her mother into a panic. Crossing her arms unhappily, Chloe stepped into her room, the doors hastily closed and locked behind her.
She used to have a balcony; that was until she got out using tied linens like an old prison break film. She’d been moved into an interior suite after that, with no way in and no way out besides the door (one that was always well guarded). It was still plenty big with tall windows overlooking the gardens. But glass was as good as bars at this point. She hadn’t been outside in days; she was going stir-crazy. Kicking a rolling ottoman with her foot, it clattered across the room, hitting the edge of a large, ornate mirror.
The thing was gaudy; a family heirloom from her grandfather. Chloe didn’t like how small it made her feel, so she tossed a sheet over it. But there was another reason, to. Sometimes, in the dark and quiet of night, she swore someone was watching her through the glass. It was a silly thought, seeing as she’d spent an entire afternoon pulling, tapping and exploring the thing in its entirety. It was just another mirror, like the dozens of others in the castle. Yet it still unnerved her. Stepping to the sheet wearily, Chloe pulled it away, allowing the fabric to pile at her feet.
As she suspected, only her reflection stared back. She looked like her mom, though she was paler and softer, with kinky curls of blue hair that lightened at the tips. She tilted her face to look at the scar on her head, the mark about an index finger long starting from the edge of her hairline back along her scalp. It was the only scar she’d ever been allowed to have. Mother made sure to lock her up and keep her safe the same way she cherished her glass trinkets. Short of being trapped in a display box, Chloe was just another bobble.
A little blue songbird in a big silver cage.
Scowling, Chloe stared intensely at the glass. It was stupid to be scared of it; she’d hated mirrors ever since having her accident. Seeing as she was six when that fear developed, it was probably just a kid-thing. But being this close to a mirror still spooked her a little. Fearlessly—or as fearlessly as she could—Chloe lifted her hand. It trembled as she placed the tips of her fingers against the glass. It was freezing to the touch.
“…you big baby…” Chloe mumbled under her breath, resting her entire palm against the mirror’s flat surface. “See? Nothing…”
There was a cold breath of wind as a hand—one that wasn’t her own—reached from a void behind the glass. Not expecting it, Chloe shrieked in fear, reeling backwards as she tripped over the ottoman and landed on her back. Staring up at the massive mirror, a faint shadow was lingering inside it, red tinted and staring down at her. Eyes widening in pure horror, the vision disappeared as the door to her room slammed open. Two guards and the royal physician stormed inside.
“Your Highness!”
“The—the mirror! There’s something in the mirror!” Pointing towards the artifact with a shivering hand, Chloe refused to tear her eyes away. She knew what she saw. It was there!
“Now, now, don’t be silly, child. There’s nothing in the mirror.”
“I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes, it was there!”
“You’re overly excited,” the doctor insisted, kneeling by her side as she quaked. The two guards hurriedly used the sheet to cover the glass again, glancing wearily at one another as they did. They thought she was crazy. Maybe she was crazy?
“I know what I saw,” Chloe insisted, taking the physician’s arm and shaking it. “Please believe me, it was there…I-I’m not making it up.”
“It was just a hallucination, my dear. Now, deep breath in, and all will be well.”
Blinking as a tiny glass bottle was shoved under her nose, Chloe didn’t have a choice of whether she inhaled it or not. The scent was pungent, sending her head back suddenly as she sputtered.
“That’s it, just relax.”
“No…no I…” her limbs felt heavy as the arm still pointing to the mirror fell. “…I saw…”
“It was just a delusion, child,” the physician insisted, gently pushing her down to lay on the floor as his relaxants did their work. It certainly wasn’t the first time Chloe had seen things since her accident. At first the professionals thought it was childhood trauma causing her to imagine things that scared her. Then, when she got older and the strange sightings didn’t disappear, it became a side effect of hitting her head. Either way, what she saw—be it figures cloaked in reddish shadows, demonic masked faces in doorways, or hazy ghosts inside mirrors—was always brushed off as her seeing things.
Staring up at the ceiling, Chloe tried to fight the sudden heaviness in her eyelids. She knew something was in the mirror. She’d been right there.
“…send a steward to alert the Queen of this episode,” the physician said. “The Princess is not to leave this room until she’s had proper rest.”
There was a clatter of armor as one of the guards left, running (like always) to tell mother just how fragile she was. Huffing faintly as she laid on the floor, her eyelids became to heavy as they slid shut, casting her into hazy darkness.