Leaned against the shed where the carcasses hung to dry, Gurr found even the sharpening of a saw blade too difficult a task. Movements jerky, he succeeded
only in making the edge more jagged, and, finally tossing the work aside, wondered when he would heal, if he would ever heal after what he had done.
He should have been put to death for Snow White's disappearance, for failing to protect the girl as was his duty. When he took her to the woods, his only
job of value was to see her safely home. Instead, he had sent her off, most likely to her death, feigning the story of an attack any true huntsman should
have seen coming.
The king had thought to punish him. Gurr could see it in the man's eyes when he had stood before him to confess his failure. Until that moment, King Kardon
had always been a merciful ruler, but his daughter's life the price for Gurr's mistake, he wanted Gurr to pay, and, standing there, unable to look the king
in the eye, Gurr wanted what he deserved.
It was the queen who demanded mercy, who advised the king to spare Gurr the harshest punishment, and, though Gurr was certain it was due only to his
knowledge of her sin and the whereabouts of the yield she had requested, he was nonetheless grateful to be alive to care for his little Angelina.
Despite her testimony on his behalf, when Gurr looked up to see the queen coming for him, intention in each footstep, he was struck by a suitable feeling
of dread. Every sin the queen had committed, he had committed and then some, for he had sinned against her. As a castle servant, when ordered to a task,
silence and obedience were the expected responses. Gurr had succeeded only in silence.
"Gurr." The queen practically purred his name, and the men at the hunting shed came to attention. They all knew better than to speak their observations,
but there was not one amongst them who did not notice the queen when she passed. "I need protection to walk the grounds," she said. "Prove to me I did wise
in sparing your life."
Tone so honey-sweet, he knew the other huntsmen would never hear past the seduction, Gurr could hear only the threat in it. "Aye," was all he could manage
as he grabbed a hatchet from the shed wall and shoved it into a loop on his belt. Trailing the queen off, he felt the eyes of the others upon them, too
blind not to envy his position.
Beyond the view of the castle servants, Gurr took the lead without being told, directing Queen Ino into the densest trees within the castle grounds, snow
crunching beneath his boots as they walked. At the unmarked spot where he left it, he sank to his knees, and could feel her over him, watching impatiently
as he dug into the solid cover of snow, whisking it away to reveal the disturbed ground beneath. Careful with the hatchet's blade, he chipped frozen earth
away a chunk at a time until he could pull the leather pouch from the ground, and handed it to the queen, his only offering to appease her.
"Is this all?" she demanded as she took it.
"I could not bring it all," Gurr said, knowing the answer would not be to her liking.
"I suppose it will do," the queen returned, seeming to realize she could not expect more as she pulled the cap off and lifted the pouch to her nose.
An unexpected growl passing her lips, Queen Ino launched the offering away, and it landed before Gurr, the red blood spilling into the snow at his knees,
and he knew his mistake had been great.
Watching the queen's hand rip from her glove and dip into the colored snow, Gurr flinched as the sickly-sweet stench hit him cold in the face. With a
strength unmatched to her small form, the queen pulled him up by the throat, the sharp tips of her fingers digging into his skin, choking the will to fight
from him. Not that he could fight much against the brute strength of her grip. Both hands going to the queen's, it felt like an iron vise around his neck.
"Do you think I cannot tell the blood of a human from the blood of a deer?" she asked, face warping into something Gurr did not recognize. "Do you think I
do not know Snow White's blood, that I do not know its smell, that I have not tasted it?"
"What are you?" Gurr breathed, looking on the queen with new eyes. Seeing the sinister face beneath the beautiful exterior, he realized her beauty was like
a snake's, cold-blooded, thick-skinned and ready to strike.
"What I am is your queen," Queen Ino stated, and even her voice sounded like a serpent. Her hand around his throat squeezing, Gurr felt it everywhere,
imagining she felt as a serpent must feel, crushing his ribs and squashing his innards. "And when I give you a command, I expect it to be followed."
"Please, Your Majesty, please," Gurr forced from his depleted lungs, throat raw with the effort. "Take pity on me. Snow White -"
"Do not say her name." The queen squeezed tighter, and Gurr struggled for the air to finish.
"She pleaded for her life. And I was not strong enough to do it," he husked. "She said she will never return, and there is no way she will. She does not
know these woods well enough. She could not survive alone."
"Where did you leave her?" Queen Ino questioned, grip loosening enough to allow Gurr to answer.
"More than half a league out," he replied. "She ran away from the village. She will not come back."
He did not expect the queen to take him at his word, but released suddenly, Gurr fell to his knees, so weak before her she could have slain him with the
point of a finger.
"You disobeyed me," Queen Ino stated.
"I know, My Queen," he returned. "I had to. I could not..." He remembered the surprise on Snow White's face, the look of betrayal in her eyes. "I could
not."
Glancing up when the queen gave no immediate response, Gurr went numb at the almost pleased look on her face, at the small smile that curved her lips.
"Bring me your daughter," she said.
"No." Gurr felt the cold seize him. "No. Please, Your Majesty, I beg you, not my little girl."
"I did promise to take her if you failed me," Queen Ino returned.
"Snow White is not coming back," he declared, tears falling down his face. "She is dead. I am sure of it."
"If you had brought me her blood as I asked, I would be sure of it," Queen Ino responded. "Bring me your daughter, or I will kill you and enslave her
anyway." Stepping forward, the queen's hand on his chin drew Gurr's eyes up. "Do not worry," she smiled. "She will not die. Not the first time."
Releasing him, Queen Ino walked off, and Gurr sobbed at her back. Knowing she would keep her promise, that she would do as she wanted, he could not
comprehend how he had not seen it in her a hundred times before.
Doubled over the blood spilled before him, Gurr screamed into the quiet landscape, wishing he had used his own two hands to send Snow White to her grave.
T
here were natural ways to enter a world, and those most unnatural. Cinderella had experienced each, the first from her mother's womb into Troyale, the
second from a warm bath, born of nothing and surrounded by strangers, into Naxos.
Then, there were those ways of entering a world that were both of nature and not of nature, like two fully-grown maidens, clothed and disoriented, birthed
in the after-fluids of a newborn calf. Cinderella was the first born, skidding into the slush like the second calf the cow undoubtedly believed her to be,
and she sat stupefied at cow's end until Rapunzel slid out after her into the snowy field.
Eyes moving rapidly, Rapunzel launched onto her at once, and Cinderella fell back as slimy arms closed around her neck. "You are all right," Rapunzel
declared in an anxious rush.
"You are all right," Cinderella whispered, relieved at the sensation of Rapunzel real and solid against her, even as she glanced past her as the cow gave a
grunt to find a watchful, displeased eye upon them.
"Your wound..."
"It is fine," Cinderella assured her, flexing the muscles at her waist with surprising ease. "You fixed me perfectly. I scarcely even feel it."
Sitting back on her heels, Rapunzel glanced into Cinderella's eyes for certainty, before letting her attention fall to her dress, her fingers running
through the fluid upon the fabric.
"Did we just..." Rapunzel's face blanched as she looked to where the cow pawed the ground.
"Yes," Cinderella replied off-handedly.
"From the beast's..."
"Indeed," Cinderella quietly returned, rising to her feet and grabbing the dagger that had fallen at her side, before hauling a bewildered Rapunzel off the
ground.
"I think I am going to retch," Rapunzel uttered.
"All right," Cinderella said. "On the other side of the fence."
"What?" Rapunzel's face crinkled in confusion.
"Run," Cinderella ordered. "Run!"
Whirling with impressive agility, considering the triple birth it had just endured, the cow charged them, and Cinderella yanked Rapunzel with more force
than she would have liked, thrusting her across the fence and letting the momentum carry her over behind her. As the cow crashed into the fence behind
them, the top tie splintered, nearly giving way to its fury, and Cinderella watched it shake its head in disapproval, before returning to its true baby.
The protective instinct of the mother turning to a loving caress as she licked her newborn clean, Cinderella wished both a long life, until she was
distracted by the sound of Rapunzel doing exactly that which she said she would.
Getting shakily to her knees, Cinderella crawled to Rapunzel's side, holding back the blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, though some pieces,
chopped shorter than the others in her haste, tumbled free as Rapunzel emptied the contents of her stomach.
"That... that is a cow, right?" Rapunzel questioned as she sat back.
"Yes," Cinderella replied, wiping a drop of something she chose not to identify from above her eye, before placing a hand carefully on Rapunzel's back.
"Are you all right?"
Looking at the surrounding landscape, Rapunzel did not seem to hear the question. A look of pure wonder setting in on her face, it was as if she forgot all
about their birth and the queasiness of her stomach in an instant. "And this?" she questioned, scooping a handful of white powder from the ground. "It is
snow?"
"Yes." Cinderella's lip twitched into a smile. "It is snow."
"It is so beautiful," Rapunzel stated, and Cinderella nodded her agreement, though, she thought, it did not compare to Rapunzel. Seeing her in sunlight for
the first time, set against the snowy field, she looked like everything beautiful in the world. Even covered in cow.
Dropping the handful of snow quite suddenly, Rapunzel brushed her hands together. "It is cold, though, isn't it?"
"Yes," Cinderella replied, glancing around. It was worryingly cold. Chilled air biting her skin, snow in no short supply, she returned her gaze to
Rapunzel's thin attire, realizing how ill-equipped they were for such unexpected weather. In Troyale, winter had not yet come, Naxos knew nothing of
winter, and this one was as deep of one as Cinderella had ever seen.
Feeling the jelly-like covering turning to ice on her skin, she knew they would not survive long on Rapunzel's fascination alone.
"We need to get cleaned up," she said, dipping her hands into the snow and sweeping them over her face to wash the birthing fluids away, smiling as
Rapunzel mimicked her every movement. Hands and face clean, Cinderella found an untouched patch of snow and offered it to Rapunzel. "It is all right," she
said, and Rapunzel took the snow into her mouth. "Better?"
"Better," Rapunzel smiled softly. "Thank you."
Taking a firm grip on her hand, Cinderella tugged Rapunzel to her feet, and Rapunzel stepped close, her arms wrapping around Cinderella's own for warmth,
but she still gave a painful shiver when the frigid wind blew.
No owner in Troyale would have dared let a fertile cow out of sight, but, scanning the landscape, Cinderella saw nothing beyond the pasture except calm,
white forest. No house. No barn. No farmer. So, she simply walked, heading toward the trees, trusting that such a healthy grove had to draw water from
somewhere.
"Is this your kingdom?" Rapunzel asked suddenly, voice rhythmic against the cold.
"No," Cinderella replied. "I do not know where we are."
Whatever Rapunzel thought about that was left to Cinderella's concern, and she found, without knowing, her concerns were great. It was easy to believe
Rapunzel must wish she had chosen to stay in Naxos, that she still had the comforts, even if the captivity, of her tower, that Cinderella had never come to
her kingdom and disturbed her relative peace.
"Cinderella," Rapunzel whispered, and Cinderella swung her gaze to blue eyes that looked even more like gems against winter than they had in summer. With a
strange grin, Rapunzel ran her fingers down Cinderella's cheek, before dropping her eyes to their joined arms. "We are disgusting."
The statement pulling a shocked laugh from her, Cinderella felt the frightening thoughts fracture, and when Rapunzel kissed her softly, lips lingering upon
hers for a single perfect moment, they faded completely.
Walking a few beats more into the rolling hills of the foreign kingdom, Cinderella spotted the carved opening in a hillside and determined Rapunzel's kiss
good luck, making a vow to seek them as often as possible.
"A cave." Rapunzel sounded pleased to recognize the feature.
"Yes, it is," Cinderella replied, leading the way down the sloping field into the gully where the cave was situated. Carefully guiding Rapunzel across the
iced-over stream that cut the gully in two, Cinderella wondered how quickly the water had frozen, how quickly they might. "Let me check it," Cinderella
said at the cave's entrance, but Rapunzel only held more tightly to her. "All right," Cinderella relented. "We will go together."
Rapunzel's responding nod gave Cinderella the feeling she would be going nowhere alone for some time, and the realization brought a smile to her face,
despite the unwelcoming environment. Dagger clutched tightly in one hand, Rapunzel clinging to the other, she was relieved to find the cave empty, and the
air inside a good deal warmer than that beyond its opening.