My first Snow White fic. My first fic about a fairy tale actually. It's inspired by the classic tale and the Disney movie as well. I just wanted to give it a darker edge (not that it doesn't already have it). Ahh! Here it goes…
Disclaimer: This tale doth not belongeth to me. :P
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Prologue
Long, long ago, in the winter-time, when the snowflakes were falling like little white feathers from the sky, a beautiful Queen sat beside her window, which was framed in black ebony, and stitched. As she worked, she looked sometimes at the falling snow, and so it happened that she pricked her finger with her needle, so that three drops of blood fell upon the snow. How pretty the red blood looked upon the dazzling white! The Queen said to herself as she saw it, "Ah me! If only I had a dear little child as white as the snow, as rosy as the blood, and with hair as black as the ebony window-frame." Soon afterwards a little daughter came to her, who was white as snow, rosy as the blood, and whose hair was as black as ebony--so she was called "Little Snow-White."
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She was small and white, like the little rabbit she held cradled against her chest, murmurirng sweet conforts into it's ear. Her raven hair fell in soft waves against her shoulder, tied back with a loose string. She wore the simplest of clothes; a blue shirt with a black skirt that reached her knees and yellow ballet flats. It wasn't her choice of wardrobe, but she didn't mind. As long as she was free to roam the gardens, she never complained.
"Blanche!"
The girl raised her head to see Mrs. Linn, the housekeeper standing with her hands on her hips. "You're supposed to be inside studying. "
Blanche rose to her feet and brushed the grass from her skirt. "I know. I'm sorry, Mrs. Linn. I'll go now."
Mrs. Linn sighed as the girl said good-bye to the rabbit and let it go back into the gardens. "Don't worry, I'm not angry. You only missed fifteen minutes. It's not a crime, Miss White."
"Still, I shouldn't disobey Mrs. White." Blanche said quietly, walking back with Mrs. Linn to the large house, a Gothic mansion built some centuries back. Mrs. White had added some new touches. A tall, iron gate surrounding the estate. Overgrown trees and bushes. Something to fend off the local paparazzi, she had claimed. Overall, it made the house feel more like an enchanted castle.
"Mrs. White will be out shopping all day today, anyway." Mrs. Linn announced as they made their way through the parlor and into Blanche's private study. "Ms. Smith will be here shortly."
Blanche sat and contented herself to wait for her tutor. It was a great deal more silent with Mrs. Linn gone. The empty room was filled with books and papers, but no life. It was the same as any other day. Finally Ms. Smith entered, unsmiling.
"Let's get to work." She said, settling down into a table. "So, the French Revolution."
Blanche picked up her history book and started reading silently, wondering how long this session would take. It seemed that her lessons were getting longer than usual. She never used to sit all day studying far off places and things she would never see. Before…
She stopped. Before papa died. The memory was still fresh in her mind. The doctors, the hospitable. That short but painful conversation with the surgeon. "I'm sorry, Blanche. There was nothing anyone could do." No, there wasn't. She didn't blame the doctors for what happened to her father. They had done all they could. But when you're thirteen and scared, you don't have much sense. She had told the doctor he hadn't tried hard enough, cried until he had to walk away and her new step-mother had to take her back to the car. There were flashes of cameras everywhere as they tried to get in the black SUV. Her step-mother held a hand to Blanche's eyes, shielding her. There were loud voices and "We're sorry for your loss" all around. Blanche didn't know why they were sorry. They didn't know her papa.
"Did you start chapter five, Blanche?"
She looked up, hoping the tears didn't show. "Well, I was almost-"
"Hurry, Blanche. I've no time to waste on a girl who doesn't want to learn."
"Yes, Ms. Smith."
"Learning is an adventure, Blanche. Think of all those people and events that had once been. Just think. There really was a Cleopatra who walked and talked and got bit by an asp. Thinking of people like they were actual humans and not just names on paper helps."
Blanche turned the page, the words of her father still imprinted in her mind. She looked at the picture of a lady with big, powdered hair and rosy cheeks. Her head was raised proudly, as if she knew just how pretty she was.
Like Mrs. White. Blanche thought, cocking her head to one side and studying the woman more. Marie Antionette, the caption said. Queen of France. Yes, just like her. Except of course, Mrs. White was much more beautiful. And she was still alive.
"Okay, Blanche. Time for your quiz on yesterday's assignment. I hope you rememeber about the Treaty of Versialles."
Blanche smiled slightly. "I do remember, Ms. Smith. I studied until I couldn't see any more."
Ms. Smith looked back at her without any emotion. "Is that supposed to be funny, Miss White?"
Blanche flushed, her eyes doe-wide. "No! No, Ms. Smith. I was just…well, I suppose I was trying to be funny…."
"If you please, Miss White." Ms. Smith continued, nonplussed. "I would like to get on with my lesson plan without any more smart-aleck interruptions."
Blanche lowered her eyes. "Yes, Ms."
"Cheer up, sweetheart". She heard her father's far off voice comforting her, remembering when her kitty had died. "It always gets better when you think it can't get any worse."
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Well, that's it folks. Next chapter is being completed, but I still have about three other freakin fics to do. I'm so unorganized it actually is funny. Time to get to work. *goes off hunching over computer like Quasimodo* Quasimodo? Hm. I smell another story coming on. Or maybe it's just my muffins burning. *goes off to check* No, nevermind. Enough of my chatter. Criticism and suggestions welcome. :)