SNOWRED

It’s; splendid.

I don’t remember so much arriving here, since I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion while travelling on Snow’s back when he turned into his large wolf.

I thought we might end up in another den, a small cave, or perhaps make a camp by a river.

I only remember a slight jolt from being put to bed, and now, perhaps 12 hours later, I am staring out the window of the bedroom atop the second floor of a castle, nestled away between forested hills, near a creek.

It’s enclosed, and the glass is centuries old, moss grows on the outside and the brass frames are all stained and scratched but beautiful. The green wallpaper, and the green bed, the green carpet… all a very splendid guest room.

How did I end up in such a splendid place?

I’m too afraid to look in a mirror, lest my face is gone. I’m too afraid to leave the room, lest it’s a trick by the Queen. Perhaps she caught Snow, and this was all an elaborate game. Perhaps I had someone else’s face. Perhaps… but no.

It was too splendid and peaceful to be a nightmare.

Unless I was dead, and this was peace forever after.

I’m sitting on a chair by a desk. I read through some books on Royal Ascension. The print date didn’t exist. It was hand written and very old.

It’s almost noon when I glance out the window to see some workers around the Castle. Those who maintained it. One is outside by the stables, near a few goats.

There.

I gulp when I see Snow leaning against a stable door, speaking to a stable-hand.

A small girl washes down a horse with a bucket, while Snow talks to her. This is definitely real as he wears his old leather pants and only a grey tunic.

I also spot a gardener pulling out weeds in a flower garden, and I see one woman walking back from the forest with a basket full of freshly hand picked strawberries.

Still, I wonder if this is pleasant trick, and if all this splendour is a lie.

I guess I need to explore to find out.

I open the drawers in the room and while some are empty, there is one full of shifts, and one wardrobe is full of sparkling red, blue and yellow dresses.

I close the door to that one pretty quickly, gulping, feeling rather overwhelmed.

Where the hell were we?

I had to wear something before I explored… so I open the door one more time and I flick through the dresses with a trembling hand.

I had never touched such fine and delicate dresses. I didn’t want to dirty them so I rub as much dirt from my hand onto my old coat.

It almost never ends. I flick through every colour of the rainbow, and nothing really feels right until I settle my hand on a white dress at the very end, seemingly hidden.

I take it out and it’s a fine white lace stitched into some kind of perfect white dress. Not a stain.

Who would wear such a dress? Wouldn’t it get dirty?

I’m too curious. I had never seen a garment of such a brilliant white; ever.

I slyly put it on and I decide I shall just appreciate its beauty, and then I will choose another.

By the time it’s settled in place, I glance in the mirror in the corner of the room and I’m a little shocked.

I’m only staring past an inch of the frame, peeking in the mirror… and now I take one side step in front of it and stare at myself properly.

Was this me?

I’m beautiful.

I had never worn anything like this and now I looked like… like this.

I never realised I had a small waist and my breasts were… they were kind of huge. This dress pushed them above an inbuilt corset’s edge, and they spill over the top, straining at the white silk. Was it silk? I had no idea.

But it’s comfortable... yes.

And my face is a dirty mess but at least it’s -

I hear Snow laughing robustly and I stumble back to the window in a rush, feeling awkward with my movements in such a gorgeous dress.

I look down and see Snow, mounted on the top of a black horse with perfect plaits and large hoofs. He strokes the side of it’s neck and he looks magnificent. Both of them do.

The stable hand is smiling sweetly, she looked after this horse, I assume.

Snow taps his heels into the horse’s flank and takes off on a ride.

It’s in this strange moment that I panic.

In a fluster, I find myself running out of the bedroom and finding the nearest set of stairs.

Everything is a splendour here. Everything is polished and preened. I can’t handle it.

I feel I cannot touch anything, so I awkwardly hop down the stairs without touching the railing and I see the front doors in plain sight.

It’s a small castle, perhaps a retreat, but it’s still daunting.

I head for the door and end up spotting a tall man in a black suit, eating a strawberry and holding a polishing cloth in one hand, while walking down an adjacent hallway.

He spots me and I blush like mad.

The handsome young man opens his mouth and I’m already running for the front door.

“Excuse me!” he calls out.

I feel like a stowaway, or that I am positively about to find out the whole thing is a trick of some kind. It had to be. This was so strange.

It – I mean – this – all of this, is, is i-impossible, this whole thing –

I heave open the front doors and run along the path, looking around, trying to gage my location.

Was this a dream… a trick… a –a…

I spin in circles; it looks real to me.

“Are you dancing?” the stable-hand calls out – the girl.

I stop spinning to look at her smiling brightly at me.

I don’t smile back, lest she is a trick.

This was all a lie.

I stumble bare foot along a path, absentmindedly pulling up the dress from the dirt, while my feet scrape along rocks but I barely feel the pain from tough skin.

I’m taking more due care of the dress than myself, but I – I don’t understand what’s going on.

“ELLIE!”

Snow.

I spin to see him galloping back towards me, grinning, his eyepatch still in place despite his rush with the wind.

He’s coming down the path so fast, the stable-hand is laughing giddily, excited for me, I think.

I find myself turning and running for the nearest magnificent tree just off the path.

It’s probably centuries old, with a truck three times my arms outstretched; it’s also a good place to hide temporarily to gather myself.

I disappear behind it, out of sight, and hug one side. I hear Snow slow the horse on the compacted dirt road, right on the other end.

I listen to him dismount, aware that everyone from the castle was watching Snow come after me. Which made me really embarrassed, honestly, I just –

Snow rounds the tree with an amused yet warm smile, while I back up into the trunk and I’m sure the blood rushes out of my head when my heart skips a beat.

“Snow. Tell me… tell me that I am not dead,” I beg him, “Am I dead?”

“Ellie,” Snow slowly shakes his head, stepping back to admire my new look, “You’re wearing a wedding dress… you realise?” he almost snorts at my confusion but then pretends to cough in his closed palm instead to play it off.

I close my mouth and breathe through my nose heavily, while Snow awaits my reply… but I am speechless.

I am still in shock about this.

Snow tries to calm me, “I haven’t been back to this retreat in over two centuries,” he speaks slow and steady, “It’s a long story but… I was never going to come back unless I decided to… return.”

“What?” I whisper, because that didn’t make any sense, kind of.

Snow loses his thought, as his eye blinks a couple of more times upon my face and then drastically turns south to my spillage – before he pretends that he didn’t just openly stare and he gulps and looks at my neck instead.

“We’re going to kill the Queen, Ellie, you and I,” Snow almost takes a step towards me with a hand out reaching for my face, but then he spins and coughs to clear his throat again, before spinning around another time… and facing me… then kneeling… and not tying a loose string on a shining boot. More like, I don’t know, just kneeling on one kn – “You’ve changed my life, Ellie –” he stares at the dirt.

“Is your leg sore?” I interrupt him, genuinely concerned, “Are you injured? Do I need to tend to something?”

A long pause.

Snow loses all humour and stares at me like I’m daft, “No, Ellie. I’m proposing,” he says.

I don’t understand what he means.

And why he’s on his knee still, maybe he felt more steady on one knee with one eye… that didn’t make any sense either.

“Oh. You are proposing a plan to kill the Queen?” I ask.

Snow blinks, and blinks again before – “Right, you don’t…” he trails off, trying not to laugh, “You don’t know what this means,” he waves his hand around, “Of course, no one taught you, that –” Snow jumps back up and I almost see a blush on his cheeks.

I’m going crazy.

“Are you alright?” I ask him, genuinely worried.

“Yes,” Snow stares at the forest, he can’t look at me… what did I do… but, he looks both sad and amused so… I don’t know. He holds out a hand, turns to me and asks, “Come for a walk with me. You don’t have shoes –”

“I can get some –”

“I’ll carry you,” Snow shakes his head, walks forward and scoops me up.

I’m used to this with him, so I hold him around the neck and he strolls off out of my cover, past the tree, towards the forest.

By the time everyone else can see us, the stable-hand is screaming out, “DID SHE SAY YES!? WOOHOO!”

And now more of them are yelling congratulations in the form of whistling and claps...

“Is it your birthday?” I ask, “What did I say yes to? A walk?”

“It’s not my birthday,” Snow whispers, his one eye unable to look down at me as he holds me and stalks off deeper into the forest along the path, “Let me show you this place. It’s beautiful. Enchanted with the strongest magic to stay hidden. It’s built like a fortress through nature. An old Royal Family retreat. My last piece of property the Queen has no idea still exists.”

“Oh. I see. So, you burnt down my house because you had a bigger house?” I ask, raising a brow, accusing him, “And a bigger bath, perhaps?”

Snow finally glances down at me and he opens his mouth to speak, but he closes those fine lips and stares ahead to the narrow path instead, smirking.

“It is splendid, you know, Snow,” I add, speaking a bit louder, “I’m glad you returned. With me. I don’t deserve a change like this. I’ll make sure to do my part. I can mend some clothes. I can cook my best stews. Or chop wood. In fact, I can shovel horse shit if I need to, to help, and I will –”

Snow promptly throws his head back and starts laughing his head off.

And he doesn’t stop.

“What is so funny?” I even yell at him, genuinely offended.

“Nothing, Ellie,” Snow looks at me finally, he really looks at me, his one ice-blue eye boring into mine, penetrating me, making me feel like a well loved – friend, I guess – but then he is suddenly leaning down to place a kiss upon my forehead as well, very briefly, speaking against my face, growling, satisfied and deeply amused, suggesting otherwise when he attempts to reaffirm, “Nothing at all.”

Fine.

Although I can’t help but feel I am missing the point.