Evermore: Snow Falls

by Caroline Metzlaff

  ~*~

  Tomorrow was Snow’s birthday, and she hadn’t even planned a party yet. sometimes she felt like she was losing it. The thought crept up unbidden, she cringed, and tried to refocus on her protection spell.

  Much had changed for Rosalyn of Rylak, and not all of it for good. Yes, there had been many good times following her marriage to King Roland, a whirlwind of celebration, years of what should have been unforgettable happiness with her new husband and beautiful stepdaughter, but for some reason those memories seemed so distant now. As if they had happened to someone else, or they had been simply a dream. Even though Rosalyn knew they had in fact happened to her, it grew harder and harder to believe it. Sometimes it was even hard to recognise her own face in the mirror. She regarded her large dark eyes, her sleek black hair with its prominent widows peak, her dark brows and her strong cheekbones, placed so perfectly in her face; the same face she had regarded her entire life, yet utterly unrecognisable at times. Sometimes it frightened her. Rubbing her temples in exhaustion she thought back to the day she had received her favorite mirror. Life had seemed so simple then.

  She had been informed that she had a visitor, exhausted from weeks of celebrating with her vibrant husband and the Lonstasian royal family, such close friends of her husband, she had been looking forward to nothing more than a long luxurious bubble bath followed by some much needed, deep, uninterrupted sleep in her personal chambers. Still, she was curious as to who would demand a private meeting with her immediately upon her arrival home, so she told the Page that she would receive her guest in her private sitting room.

  Her guest was already awaiting her. Surprised and slightly put out, the young queen of Rylak, made her way down the corridor and in to her private room.

  Heavy, red velvet curtains framed floor length windows that looked out onto one of the splendid gardens that filled one Castle White’s many courtyards. Deep, cushiony velvet couches arranged themselves across from the small fireplace that warmed the room in the cool winter evenings.

  Standing by the centre window, gazing out at the summer garden was Maleficent.

  Maleficent was an extremely powerful rogue fairy from the Republic of Sarrilia; she was also Rosalyn’s peer, and sometimes...her friend. Rosalyn wasn’t sure if this visit should be welcomed...or if she should run. A thousand different thoughts raced through her head in the space of a minute, a thousand different emotions, ranging from happiness at being reunited with her one friend, and fear...cold, loathsome fear. Having served under the same Master, the women often regarded each other as irritating siblings, so as such, Rosalyn knew she had to acknowledge the fairy. Maleficent had been known to enact...peculiar and dreadful punishments upon those that offended her. It was something to be avoided.

  Maleficent hadn’t bothered to respond to the wedding invitation Rosalyn had sent her, and that still stung somewhat. But Rosalyn was wise enough to put such petty accusations behind her when dealing with the capricious fairy.

  As the heavy door closed behind Rosalyn, Queen of Rylak, the famous rogue fairy Maleficent swirled around, causing her satiny purple and black gown to float around her tall and beautiful form. Her thick, long, blonde hair trailed down her back, and her large and beautiful violet eyes glowed spectacularly from her classically perfect face. She pursed glossy lips and regarded the tall dark haired queen with one carefully arched eyebrow.

  Rosalyn looked deep in to those deep purple eyes and held one hand up, as if to ward off all evil.

  “I am done with magic.” Rosalyn had asserted before the fairy could say a word. “I am Queen of a vast and prosperous land, I have a handsome and loving husband, and a beautiful stepdaughter. Soon, I hope, I shall have a child of my own, I have no more need for magic; I have everything I want. I am done.”

  “Honey, it doesn’t work like that. You might think you are done with magic, but magic is far from done with you.” The fairy laughed heartily. “Once a sorceress, always a sorceress, love. I have never known you to be so naive; ‘done with magic’ indeed.” She laughed again. “Really, wherever did he find you.”

  “Mal, I’m serious. I’m out. I just want to be happy with my family. I have done everything asked of me, I have been hardworking and loyal, and now I am finished.”

  “Oh sweetie, not one of us gets away that easy. Don’t waste your time fighting the inevitable...you belong to him.”

  “I belong to my husband, my stepdaughter and my country now.” Rosalyn’s chest tightened as she fought to speak evenly.

  “Silly girl.”

  “Shhhh.” Rosalyn begged. “My husband doesn’t need to know everything about my past...there are things I... I only want to be his wife now. Can’t you understand? I don’t want that life anymore, I don’t need power, I don’t need revenge, I am happy now, there is nothing you can offer me. Please, just go away.”

  She looked anxiously over her shoulder, as the soft tread of footsteps sounded through the hallway, she hands fluttered helplessly to her slender throat.

  “You really do love him, don’t you.” Maleficent realised, with a tinge of sadness and surprise in her seductive voice.

  “Yes, I do.” Rosalyn replied honestly. “ But listen Mal, Rylak isn’t Sarrilia; humans don’t associate with fairies or creatures here, non-humans are expected to register at the city gates. Although it would be disastrous for me if you did...the questions.” Rosalyn shook her head and began to nervously rub her temples.

  “Don’t give it another thought, I materialised at the castle gate...I hate paperwork.” The fairy yawned slightly in to her perfectly manicured hand, before running her hand down the thick and opulent curtain. “You must give me the address of your decorator...I’m getting bored with the current decor in my lair.” She smiled devilishly at the nervous young Queen.

  “Your lair?” Rosalyn responded, somewhat sarcastically.

  “It’s hidden, secret and protected by a dragon...it’s a lair.” Snapped the fairy. “Oh, don’t look so worried. It annoys me. I don’t understand why you’re always so uptight. Really. You’re hurting my feelings.”

  “Well, you have done a terrible job of impersonating a human!” Rosalyn snapped back, irritated by her friend’s lack of concern.

  “Whatever gave you the impression that I was trying?” Maleficent answered smugly as she plopped a fresh chocolate covered strawberry in to her mouth. “Why on earth would I even want to.” She shuddered for effect, suppressing a small smile.

  “You’re in Rylak now. Here, humans are at the top.” Rosalyn reminded.

  “Hmmm. For now.” Quickly Maleficent spun around causing her purple and black gown to float around her again and she caught both of Rosalyn’s hands in her own. “But let’s not spoil this little reunion with such unpleasantness. I have been sent here with a wedding gift for you.”

  Rosalyn eyed her friend warily. “I got married over two years ago, Mal. You didn’t come.” She couldn’t help but get just one little dig in.

  “I know, I was just so terribly busy. Where does the time go? Forgive me? Congratulations on that though.” She chuckled throatily to herself before turning serious and releasing her friend’s hands. “This gift isn’t from me...it’s from him.”

  Instantly Rosalyn stood up straighter. Shivers, equal parts exhilaration and apprehension with a healthy dose of fear, rippled down her spine.

  Maleficent snapped long elegant fingers and two Pages walked in carrying a large oval shaped object, wrapped in black velvet between them. The fairy pointed to a spot, and the terrified Pages obediently placed it against the wall before scurrying in terror out of the room. Rosalyn wondered what Maleficent could have done in such a short span of time to elicit such a reaction, she dreaded finding out.

  Waving her hand, Maleficent sent the door crashing shut behind them, a small smile playing across her lips.

  Curiously Rosalyn approached the velvet wrapped gift, her heart pounded out a riotous beat. Maleficent studied the young queen inten
tly.

  “It can’t be, he would never....” She whispered to herself as she cautiously began to remove the velvet wrapping. Slowly she unwound the sheets of velvet that protected a large beautiful mirror. She gasped, her hands fluttering to her throat again. This was the mirror.

  The mirror, his mirror.

  Her fingers carefully and reverently skimmed over the engravings that decorated the opulent frame. Ornate and beautiful, the mirror seemed to pulse with a life of its own. She forced herself to breathe evenly as she gazed upon it.

  “He did.” She whispered in awe, unable to take neither her eyes nor her trembling hands off the magic mirror.

  “Hmmm.” Maleficent said with a tight, somewhat fake smile which didn’t quite make it to her large violet eyes.

  “What an extraordinary gift!” Rosalyn breathed, falling under the spell of the mirror as she gazed at her reflection in its depths. It hummed softly back at her.

  “Everything comes with a price Roz, ask yourself what you are willing to pay; you can still refuse to accept this. Don’t use the mirror! Never open your door to me again.” Maleficent advised in an unusually urgent voice. “Do you understand what the price is?”

  “Sour grapes! You’re just jealous that our Master chose to give his prize mirror to me, a human, and not to you!” Rosalyn snapped with genuine irritation as the mirror whispered sweet assurances to her. Yes, it was she, she was the one, this mirror had always been meant for her.

  The rogue fairy had sighed, it wasn’t really any of her business anyway, she was merely the messenger. “Perhaps you’re right sweetie, you just go on and enjoy yourself now; I can find my own way out. Or better yet, maybe one of those delicious guards I noticed in your foyer would...help me. Hmmm?” Maleficent smiled her most predatory smile as she tossed her shiny blonde tresses over her shoulder.

  Rosalyn had hardly even heard her leave, and she certainly hadn’t noticed the last pitying look the beautiful purple fairy had given her before slinking out of the room.

  She hadn’t laid eyes on Maleficent since.

  But the mirror, the mirror was addictive. Bound to the truth it would answer any question put to it...but there was one small catch. It would answer in rhyme or riddle only, and sometimes those riddles could be difficult to decipher. Rosalyn found herself relying on the mirror more and more each day, and with it, the magic she had tried so hard to run from.

  As her beloved husband Roland fell prey to a mysterious illness, the young queen found herself seeking assistance from darker, more powerful magic, so determined was she to acquire a cure for him. And as she trafficked with this powerful, dark and malevolent magic, it consumed more and more of the desperate queen, and still she watched helplessly as her love withered away.

  ~*~

  Snow looked up sharply as the sound of boots marching down the hall startled her out of her thoughts. The sound of military boots, marching purposefully down any hallway was a sound Snow found particularly disturbing. She supposed it was due to the lingering nightmares about the rebellion that still plagued her from time to time....

  It started during the spring just before Snow’s twelfth year. A faction of dissatisfied people on the far west coast of Rylak, upon hearing of Roland’s debilitating illness, had began to question the White’s right to rule. It had started as a dissatisfied rumble, fairly harmless and mostly talk, but by the time it made it upland, it was a full blown rebellion.

  These ale emboldened rebels, more accurately labeled ‘thugs’, systematically marched through every town across Rylak, preaching their propaganda, and beating and threatening all those still loyal to King Roland and the White’s. With growing numbers, they made their way to the to the capital city of Lyra, intent on storming Castle White nestled deep within.

  Snow would always remember that day. Rumors of the rebel’s march had finally met Snow’s young ears, fearsome, gruesome stories of what was to befall the royal family had frightened the young girl to her very core, and she headed straight for Rosalyn. Bravely, she tried to keep her fear in check as she hurried across the castle to the Throne room.

  She stopped short as she neared the Throne room’s gold inlaid doors, her stepmother and the White family Royal Advisor’s voices wafted out from the partially closed doors. She stood silently in the doorway; no one noticed her, her stepmother was slumped on her tall jeweled throne, holding her head, while the Royal Advisor, Theodore paced agitatedly in front of her.

  Suddenly Snow was afraid.

  “What would Roland do in this situation? He always knew what to do.” Rosalyn asked quietly.

  “King Roland would have met with them and began the necessary negotiations, months ago.” Theodore replied simply as he adjusted the lace on his fancy cuffs.

  “Roland has not uttered a single word for two months!” Rosalyn snapped, despair heavily coloring her voice and she quickly covered her mouth with her own hand. She had not meant to snap at this kind man. Roland’s loss of speech was a blow she was still reeling from, although his body had betrayed him early on, he had until recently, still possessed a sharp and witty mind, a mind which which Rosalyn desperately loved and relied on heavily.

  “Perhaps if I met with them...” She trailed off, shaking her lovely head in silent bewilderment, her eyes wide and hopeful. For anyone to threaten such violence against Roland, against Snow...against herself, it seemed unimaginable. Roland had always been a warm, and caring sovereign, his reign was among the most prosperous and happy in recorded history. There was not, and had never been a cruel bone in his body. She didn’t know what to do.

  “Begging your pardon, your Highness, they do not want to meet with you.” The Advisor gently replied.

  “Well then what do they want?” The queen asked in confusion.

  “Your head.” He said simply, with a defeated shrug of his shoulders.

  “My head.” She repeated dully. Suddenly she felt cold all over.

  “Your Highness, if we leave now, we may have just enough time to get King Roland, Princess Snow and yourself safely across the border. I can send our fastest horse to Crystallise and ask for asylum from the Charming family, they will not deny you.” He pleaded, placing his hands on the arm of her Royal Throne.

  The queen slowly got up from her chair and crossed the room to gaze out of her window down at the courtyard, her dark gold gown rustling with each step, the diamonds in her simple crown glistening in the morning sun. Dozens of people scurried about, going about their daily business in the gleaming city of Lyra, completely unaware that the rebel army was at that very moment, marching steadily towards them.

  Mothers chased after happy tots, and teens scampered through the streets playing tag. A meat vendor chased a mischievous puppy away from his hanging sausages, and two young girls giggled nervously, fluttering their fans as a handsome young man passed them by. Lyra was a happy city, it always had been, even the sun shone proudly in the morning sky, as if in direct defiance to the evil awaiting this glorious city. Rosalyn watched through her window as the day to day life of Lyra played out.

  “Your Majesty, they will tear this city apart to get to you and your family. They will leave no trace of you, of any of you...”

  Rosalyn swallowed hard.

  “What if we formally abdicate, will that spare Lyra and her people?” She asked tonelessly.

  “I don’t know your Majesty; they will claim the throne whether they have to slice through you or not, but if we are going to leave, I suggest we leave quickly. They are but a few hours from the gate.”

  She took a deep breath, taking one last look at the scene playing out below her, she turned to Theodore. “Ready the King and Princess Snow. Take them to Crystallise immediately. I want to speak to the people of Lyra myself.”

  “What could you possibly say?” He asked.

  “I’m not sure Theodore, but I feel we must say something. Roland would never have left with them thinking he had simply abandoned them, that he ran awa
y. I can’t leave cowardice as Roland’s legacy. They have to understand, they have to know we love them, they have to be brave.” She turned back to the window, signifying that the meeting was now over. “I am so sorry Roland....” She whispered, barely audible, as she rubbed her forearms quickly, as if impossibly chilled.

  But Snow had heard, and she had understood. She understood now, that the rumors were true. The rebels were on their way to her city. And once they got here, they were going to kill her father, Rosalyn and herself...in very nasty ways, the rumours had been much, much too descriptive. So they were going into exile, or they were going to die.

  Theodore slowly walked out of the throne room, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low, Rosalyn collapsed back on to her chair and covered her beautiful face with her hands. Neither of them had even noticed the terrified young girl standing in the doorway. Snow silently came up behind him.

  “You attend to my father’s packing, I will get the assistance of one of my maids. Fear not as you are coming with us. My father would not leave you behind. Nor would he leave Gregor. Gregor! I must find him!” Snow quickly embraced the heart broken advisor before running off to save her friend.

  ~*~

  Out of the castle she ran, the two guards that stood sentry at the tall and imposing black iron gates that served as the main entrance to the famous castle, leapt into action as their young Crown Princess raced past them, her long black hair flowing behind her, her royal blue dress with the intricate lace flapping in the breeze as she ran.

  Immediately they caught up to her. Strong arms enveloped her, and she struggled vainly against them, before she realised how shocking and crazed her actions must appear.

  “There now, Princess, you are safe.” One of the guards whispered in to her ear, as the other unsheathed his sword, awaiting her unseen assailant.

  “That’s right, your Highness, no one will touch you on our watch!” The other whispered fiercely.

  “You don’t understand, I must find Gregor!” She whispered back equally fiercely.

  “The huntsman?” The first guard questioned, still holding carefully to Snow’s small arm, his partner scanned the area, alert for any threat, his sword still drawn..

  “Yes, Gregor the huntsman. Can you tell me where I will find him?”

  The guards exchanged sad looks. The dark haired guard that had been holding Snow’s arm so carefully knelt down beside her, while the other looked sadly away. Dark times had fallen upon their city.

  “Princess Snow,” He began haltingly. “There has been some trouble outside the city gates, and Huntsman Gregor has volunteered to help secure the city.”

  “The rebellion. I know. I must find him, immediately. Please let me go.” She pleaded quietly.

  The guards exchanged unsure looks.

  “I can’t let you run through the streets, your Highness, it is unsafe. There are those who would....” his voice trailed away in disgust.

  “Then take me to him.”

  He looked at his partner, who nodded simply in return.

  Quickly he helped the small princess back to her feet and began leading her through the crowded streets of Lyra with haste. Her stepmother’s words playing through her mind as she raced by. “What if we formally abdicate, will that spare Lyra and her people?” and Theodore’s less than satisfactory response. “I don’t know your Majesty; they will claim the throne whether they have to slice through you or not, but if we are going to leave, I suggest we leave quickly. They are but a few hours from the gate.”

  But she was far too young to comprehend such ugliness, she looked up at the guard who swiftly led her through the streets, over to the young woman with a small child opening a door, who watched them pass with large sad eyes. She wanted to save them all, she couldn’t imagine anyone hurting them, she couldn’t imagine why anyone would. It made her angry.

  The Outer Gates of Lyra were alive with activity, men, both civilians and soldiers alike, men of all ages from old, old grandfathers to young men just barely starting to shave. They had armed themselves with whatever weapon was available, and they all wore the same look of fear and disbelief. With half of the royal soldiers scouting the country for these insidious rebels...they had timed their assault perfectly. By the time the soldiers doubled back to Lyra, the city would be taken, the family destroyed. The air was thick with apprehension.

  And then she spotted him. Gregor, beloved huntsman of Castle White. Wearing a dark work shirt and trousers, his sword and bow strapped to his strong back, how the rough assembly of brave men, deferred to him as he outlined his plan, his face set in grim lines.

  “Gregor!” Snow shouted as she saw the familiar strong shoulders of the White’s huntsman.

  Running up to him full speed, she catapulted herself in to his strong arms; something she hadn’t done since she was a child, and he caught her...as he always had. With concern, the huntsman carefully cradled the frightened princess.

  “Sweetheart! What are you still doing here!” He held her close, alarm settling in across his rugged features, the shadow of a beard just about to appear, dark circles outlined his tired eyes.

  Snow wiped a stray tear from her face, she hadn’t realised when they started flowing and pulled back slightly to speak.

  “Gregor, you have to hurry and pack, the rebels are headed for the castle. We are fleeing to Lonstas within the hour, you have to come with us!” She whispered intensely.

  He closed his eyes soft blue eyes and hugged her close again.

  “Sweet child, the rebels already have us surrounded. I have stationed myself here, to stand with the citizens of our fair city of Lyra. I am, and always will be loyal to Castle White. Princess Snow, it is far too dangerous for you to be here.”

  He swept her up in his arms and headed back towards the castle, taking long, strong strides. The guard that had accompanied her stepped in behind.

  “They should have taken the family away hours ago. I don’t understand...I sent the message myself.” He muttered. “You were to have left immediately, we were wrong, Gads we were so wrong...the rebels were much closer than we had assumed.”

  The guard paled. “We received no such message, huntsman.”

  Snow lost all colour. “Gregor, what will happen?” She asked breathlessly, her eyes wide as she searched his face for answers.

  The kind huntsman stopped short and looked down at the trembling child. “We will hide you. That is what, we will hide you and we will tell the rebels that you had already left. Don’t be afraid child, I will fight for you. We all will.” He said, the guard beside them nodded solemnly.

  “But I don’t want you to fight! Any of you!” She felt the tears streak down her face again, but this time she didn’t care.

  “War has little to do with what most people want, dear.” He took her hand again. “Now hurry, we must warn your parents...they will need to hide too.”

  ~*~

  “How could this have happened?” Rosalyn asked incredulously, her eyes wide with disbelief as Gregor outlined the situation.

  “I do not know your Majesty.” Gregor answered, his head hung low. “I fear we may have traitors within the gates. The rebels have surrounded the city.”

  “If Snow hadn’t found you, we would have left the security of Lyra, began our journey to Crystallise, and been set upon immediately.” She realised with growing horror. “Murdered not a hundred yards from the city walls.”

  He nodded unhappily. He hated to think that any of his men, or any of the many guards within the city could have betrayed the family so bitterly. But betrayed they had been. How many pieces of gold, jewels, promises of preference, how much had it taken to sell the lives of their king, his queen and this little princess. The rebel army lay just outside the city walls, laying in wait for cover of darkness, then they would storm the city, leaving a trail of blood behind them as they slaughtered their way to the castle. The odds were against anyone’s survival.

  Snow looked around the roo
m, Theodore in his fancy silk robes, trembling ever so slightly, his graying hair perfectly coiffed, his only thought was to get them to safety. Gregor, in his dusty black shirt and trousers, shadows around his eyes, a calm and steady resignation radiating from him as he related the heartbreaking news. And Rosalyn, so beautiful and slender in her dark gold satin dress, her hands and neck bejeweled with diamonds and topaz, her hair pulled softly back by her delicate crown, her eyes so dark and lost.

  “Come your Majesty, if the huntsman has a secure hiding place, I suggest we take it immediately.” Theodore interjected urgently, his hands moving nervously. “The city is lost.”

  The queen shook her head slowly, a deep anger began to play across her beautiful features and blaze from her eyes. “Hide Roland and Snow, I will find out who betrayed us in this fashion, and I will extract payment. No one is to know their location, save yourself and Gregor. Tell the army...tell the army that we are going to meet these rebels at the gate. Tell them that this city shall fight.”