Once upon a time, in a land far from here, lived a beautiful Kitten Princess. Her hair was dark as midnight and her eyes were as grey as the winter waves, and her tail and ears were as soft as silk. She was a happy Princess until one day, when she was still young and more than a little naive, she met an Ogre, disguised by magic as a handsome Prince. He told the beautiful Princess that he loved her, and that she was the most wonderful Kitten the world had ever seen. She gave her heart to him and the Ogre Prince took it and put it in a golden box and locked that inside a great iron chest, and he wore the key around his neck always. And now he had her heart the Prince began to let his glamours slip. At first the Princess noticed his voice changing from adoring to derisive, and then his green eyes turned black, until finally she was able to see him for what he was. But still the Princess loved him, for he had her heart.
When the Ogre told her that she was unworthy, she accepted that it must be so. When he told her that her body was flawed and her fur coarse, she knew it must be so, for the man who held her heart was telling her so. And the Princess became sad and lonely living in the Ogre's high tower, imprisoned by her own heart. Each day she walked in the Ogre's tangled garden, tending the wild dog-roses which could not help but bloom under her care. Until one night she could not find the Ogre-Prince she so adored, and she searched high and low for him throughout the tower. Her footsteps echoed up staircases and down hallways and still she could not find him. Her search eventually carried her along one corridor she had never ventured down before: she had reached the door of his private laboratory, marked with sigils and signs she didn't understand. She knew she should not enter, but so driven by her love for him was she that she pressed on and opened the door. Inside, she foundher best beloved seated at a desk, and on the desk were two near-identical boxes: the Princess recognised them at once. One contained her own heart, and the other contained the heart of another. The Princess cried out in shock and the Ogre roared at her presence and with his massive hands ripped apart the box of her heart and, raising it high above his head, cast it down onto the cold stone floor and it shattered into five pieces and the poor, beautiful Princess screamed in agony and despair and, gathering up the shards, ran from the high tower. The rough stones tore her feet and the wild roses she nurtured so carefully tore her gown and she ran blinded by her tears and pain until, exhausted, she could run no more.
The Princess wandered the world. Her lustrous fur dulled and her skin paled and she became even more depressed, lonely and despairing. She found a small cave and curled up in it, guarding the pieces of her shattered heart, taking neither food nor drink. One day her gnawing thirst broke her, and the Kitten Princess left her cave to venture into the nearest town, to see about getting herself some milk. She buried her heart inside the remains of her silken gown at the back of her cave and, with much trepidation, walked away from it.
The poor Kitten who walked into the town could barely be recognised as the same lovely creature who had become the Ogre's lover. Instead of silk and satin she wore rough homespun cloth and her hair was ragged. But the greatest change was in her eyes: instead of joy now they held only fear. She cowered and hunched and when she glanced up and met the eyes of the lad in the dairy she was unprepared. His eyes were the colour of the bluest summer skies and his skin was white as the milk he poured for her. Deep within the Princess something stirred, something carnal and crimson-dark and she felt she could hardly breathe. Each day for a month she returned, and each day he sent her away with her breath caught in her throat and she would creep back to her cave and there she stroked and scratched and gasped until the carnal thing inside her was sated. But soon it was not enough. Leaving her poor, shattered heart buried under a cairn of ocean-polished stones she left her cave, her safe place, one last time.
That night she gave her body to the beautiful man. He took her to heights of pleasure so intense that she sobbed and in return she pleased him, teased him and drew his passion from him again and again. And when they lay entwined in the darkness he told her he would never fully love her, not with all his heart, and would never ask for hers. The Princess sighed with contentment and knew her heart was safe. Years passed and slowly, very slowly, the Princess began to heal.
Each time the Beautiful Man took another woman to his bed she smiled and reminded herself that he did not love her wholly, and could not break her heart. But, unknown to the Princess, the beautiful man had crept, quiet as the grave, to the cave by the sea and there, under the cairn of polished stones he found her heart in its silken shroud. He returned with it to his humble rooms and lay it on her pillow and when she awoke he was there, smiling. The kitten Princess looked at him with horror, but again he smiled and kissed her softly. His nimble fingers unwrapped the shards of her heart and the Princess gasped, for it was almost whole! One shard remained. The Beautiful Man took it in his and and drove it into his own chest and his blood ran scarlet over his white skin to drip onto her heart and they were forever one, joined by something stronger than iron.
Once again the Princess flourished; her hair glistened and the curves of her lush figure filled once more and she was happy but for one thing. Her heart was not whole. The shard taken by the Beautiful Man had left a hole inside her and she felt its absence, burning within her.
But she was at least content: he was a good man. Their life was decent, and there was no doubt that he did care for her, but still something was missing. Some days she went down to the beach and cave which had been her home and bathed in the clear sea, the waves quieting her restive heart. But she was not alone. One day a Handsome Scholar chanced upon the Princess while she bathed, and he saw her beauty and admired her form. When she rose, the water cascading from her like liquid crystal, he felt as though the world had, for a moment, held its breath. She turned, and upon seeing him she was struck still as if she was made of stone. Gathering himself, he approached, slowly, so as not to frighten her away. She did not move. He reached out a hand and stroked her beautiful hair and the Princess felt herself melt under his touch. But she thought of the Beautiful Man and she froze; she would not betray him as she had been betrayed before. She fled from the Handsome Scholar and that night sobbingly confessed to the Beautiful Man. But to her surprise the Beautiful Man simply smiled at her and kissed away her tears and told her that she would always be his, but her love was also her own to give, and that she could give as much as she wished.
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