Disclaimer: I do not own Into the Woods, or any of its amazing characters. I may have mentioned before that I'm not Sondhiem. I own Lars, Blanchette, Rosamond, Liga, and the Witch's mother (sort of).

And here we have (finally) the first chapter in my four-part "Giovanna and Frexspar Series!" I know I said this would be part of my oneshot collection, but it expanded over the years and I decided to make it an actual fic- though hopefully, the chapters will be shorter than my usual ones. I am personally a huge WitchXMysterious Man Shipper and I am of the belief that based on the way they act in the musical, the two of them were once a couple, until something, or rather a bunch of things went wrong. It should be noted that this is a PROLOGUE. Therefore, the same fairy tales that went into Into the Woods haven't happened yet. Furthermore, I ran out fairy tales that I am terribly familiar with, so I have incorporated a few myths and legends that some of you may not have heard of. I felt the need to go for things nobody, as far as I know, has thought of yet. I will explain as I go along.

Oh, and just in case you lovely readers get confused, Giovanna is my name for the Witch. When I use the words "the Witch" in this chapter, I am usually referring to Giovanna's mother (The Witch Sr.). Also featured in this story are Frexspar, the baker who will one day become the delirious, deleterious, but never anything serious Mysterious Man (YES after "Wicked.") and his wife, Rosamond. Rosamond and her twin sister Blanchette, it should be noted, are Snow White and Rose Red, from the story of the same name. I wanted twins to run in Rapunzel's family, to explain how she managed to produce them in the desert. I chose Rose Red as Rapunzel's mother for two reasons: 1. The plant connotation and 2. Seriously, if Gretel hasn't learned her lesson about witches by now she's an even bigger idiot than my younger self thought.

Princes wait there in the world, it's true… Princes yes, but wolves and humans too….

I cannot say how I've tried to forget him. Any fool could tell that with all I've been through and with all that I face today I should forget him, that it's no use dwelling on the past. But then I suppose I've always been one to hold a grudge. The world showed no compassion to me, no forgiveness, no understanding. Never even the slightest twinge of acceptance. Until he came along. I thought he was different. But no. No! Right when I thought he would never leave me, he abandoned me. I wish I could tell you that this was the end of the story. Wishing, however, never got me anywhere. One day he came back into my life and robbed me of my most important possession, altering the course of my life forever. Why should I ever forgive him that? Even what little revenge I managed to exact on him does not bring me much solace. Everywhere I go, in everything I do, I'm reminded of him. When I walk through my garden and pass the beanstalks, one completely stripped of its crop. When I make a passing glance at my wall, his muddy footprints still marring the stones. When the sun glints off of the small polished stone tucked under a tree at the end of my property. When I look in the mirror and cringe in horror at my aged, horrific reflection. When I hold my baby daughter, who looks so much like that other woman who stole him from me…

Frexspar was the love of my life, and the ruin of it. This is our story...