A/N: I wrote this a few years ago, and I decided to type it up and post it here. My writing has changed a lot since I wrote this and while I changed some grammar and syntax when I was typing it, I kept most everything else the same.

This is where I would usually put a disclaimer, but Snow White is in the public domain so...

Internal Love

A Snow White Story

"You have such beautiful hair Bianca."

"As beautiful as yours Mommy?"

"Almost."

I wait for mother outside of the throne room. She's not due to leave for another hour now, but I finished the embroidery of the castle I've been making her and I can't wait for her to see it. It's not as good as the tapestries of the castle in the dining hall, and a lot smaller, but I got the windows of her tower right. The longer I wait the more I worry that she won't like it, but it's better than the butterfly I made for her a few months ago, and she liked that one. Maybe I should have spent more time on the gate, it's crooked.

Mother steps out of the throne room, looking especially regal in her new dress and robes. There are guards and advisors surrounding her, so I hang back anxiously until they've dispersed and mother starts towards her tower. I walk up beside her holding the embroidery, eagerly awaiting her opinion.

"I made this embroidery for you."

"Oh, it's very good," she tells me. "I shall have it displayed in the grand theater."

"But it's so dark in there, no one will see it,"

She doesn't seem to hear me. Maybe she doesn't remember I made it.

Mother never puts sugar in her tea, I wonder how she can drink it that way. It's so bitter. Tea with her went as usual, we talked about things that are happening around the castle, she told me I'm too young to wear makeup, I reminded her that I'm thirteen. Just like always, the tea was delicious and the sandwiches were cucumber. Mother had to leave early, but she suggested I take a walk in the forest. Let Mr. Henderson show me around.

Mr. Henderson was sitting outside his cabin when I went to look for him, he seemed very happy to show me around the woods. He started by showing me the resting clearing, which I've seen before. But now he seems awfully rushed and we just keep going deeper into the woods. I ask him to slow down but he keeps a quick pace. Eventually we stop in a tiny clearing.

"Stay here," he instructs. "Your mother has ordered me to kill you, but I'll bring her the heart of a deer instead. You stay here and I'll come get you in a few hours."

"There must be some kind of mistake, my mother would never have me killed."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. You see your mother-"

"You're lying! You're trying to kidnap me! Or – or something."

I'm yelling now but he already ran off. I can't find my way through the woods on my own, so I wait.

Several hours must have passed by now, since the sky is starting to grow dark. The woods have only gotten more daunting in the time I've been waiting. My face has surely turned red by now from me scratching it. It's been itchy and irritable ever since I started using the face cream mother gave me. The pain puts me in a bad mood and I'm relatively certain that he intends to leave me here to die.

Seeing a lack of alternatives, I decide to walk back to the castle on my own. The only problem is I can't remember which direction we came from; it's been so long since Mr. Henderson left. I take a guess and set off. Not twenty minutes later and I don't even know how to get back to the clearing; it's impossible to walk in a straight line with all these trees blocking my way. Another twenty minutes pass and I'm certain I'm not heading in the right direction.

Have I been veering left? Mr. Henderson came from the right. I think.

I'll head right to make up for it.

Just as the last traces of daylight are fading from the sky, I notice that the trees are thinning. I start to run, nearly colliding with some trees in my haste. I can see the castle so clearly in my mind that for a second as I come into the clearing, I think it's really there. After that, though, the image fades away to be replaced by a cottage and my own terror.

The cottage is two stories, with a thatched room and stucco walls. There's a woman leaning on the porch railing, a tight tension in her shoulders.

"What's your name?" she calls.

"Bianca."

"Oh thank goodness," she sighs, shoulders relaxing. "We were getting worried. Where's Mr. Henderson?"

"He left me in the woods. Said my mother wanted me dead."

"Sweetie. Honey. Your mother does want you dead, you need to understand that. You're in danger."

She steps towards me.

"No I'm not! My mother loves me, and I don't understand why you and Mr. Henderson hate her so much!"

She hesitates, her previously outstretching hand drawing back as though she realized what she was about to touch could burn her.

"Uh… Come inside will you sweetie? It's getting dark."

I'm in no position to refuse.

The woman's name is April Grimm. She lives in the cottage with Mike, her husband, and their children. April is beautiful in a way that would make mother purse her lips and narrow her eyes. She has long chestnut brown hair that none of her seven kids inherited, all of them bearing the same black hair as their father. Except for one boy, whose hair is bleached an unnatural white.

I'm brought to the table and given a dinner that I assume is standard for peasants. It's plain, but I couldn't enjoy even the finest of banquets with the children staring at me as they are. They're all finished dinner, which leaves them free to introduce themselves enthusiastically and ask me endless questions. Even the one who's older than me won't leave me alone. It's altogether very overwhelming, since I'm used to the protective isolation of the castle.

I eat quickly in order to avoid answering their questions. As soon as I'm done April takes me to a small room with a cot. My exhaustion overpowers my discomfort and I fall asleep almost instantly, my fading consciousness barely registering the sound of the door locking.

In the morning no one speaks at all during breakfast. If anything, it makes it more awkward. I don't speak until April is washing the dishes.

"How long do you expect me to stay here? I have to get back to the castle, my mother will be worried."

"Honey-"

"You're mom's a psycho!" a shout interrupts.

"Jeremy Grimm! You apologize this instant!"

The paper spread across the table means very little to me. Everyone else seems very invested, moving their little blocks along the lines drawn on the paper and rolling small cubes. I let Jane take all my turns for me. As they all laugh and shout, my mind drifts away.

Inevitably I think of the castle. The longer I stay here the longer I cause my mother grief. The urgency to return buzzes under my skin, I want to run, but I can't. I've tried escaping; they're too prepared. They know me well enough by now that they expect me to run yet remain determined to keep me here. There's nothing for it but to wait for my chance.

The children play sticks by the fireplace and I help Ariel with the dishes. It doesn't feel like work because it's the only time I get to think, spending almost every waking moment with the other children.

"Don't you want to play sticks with them?" April suggests.

"No, Jessica and Jen always win."

April is quiet, but she always tries to fill the silence with small talk and innocent questions. What's my favourite colour? Favourite game, dessert, colour. Finished washing the dishes, we sit at the table. She doesn't ask me any questions, just tells me that I look tired and should go to bed. I feel tired down to my bones; the instinct to run dormant for the first time in a long time.

I shuffle to my little room, closing the door behind me. Sleep reaches me as soon as I feel the pillow under my head.

After a month, the Grimms finally trust me enough to take me to the market with them. April waves goodbye as the rest of us set off for town with our baskets. When we get to the market it's full of people bustling around a labyrinth of tables and tents. We split up to gather different groceries from different market sectors. I'm in charge of getting apples and I see a tent near the edge of the market advertising them.

I step inside the tent, working through the crush of people. I only stay a few minutes before leaving both the tent and the market, heading off along the westbound road out of town. While I try to look calm and casual, I know I'm breathing too fast and walking more briskly than normal because the buzz under my skin is too strong to completely ignore. It's not urgency so much anymore, more anxiety. I'm terrified that one of the Grimms will see me.

I could just go back, pretend this never happened, that I never did this. April's face appears in my mind's eye, she's so happy to see me, hugging me tightly with that warm light in her eyes. Then, it's heartbroken. She's realized I'm gone and the devastation shows on her face with tears and in her throat with broken, sobbing hiccups. Could I really do that to her?

The face changes again though, into my mother's. She's already so devastated and every second I doubt myself is another second she spends in that horrible state.

I leave my basket on the side of the road.

The fear of discovery presses down on me and clouds my head. I want to run, but I know it will only make me obvious. It's not difficult to pick a girl out of the crowd if she's running amongst idlers. Eventually an old lady offers to let me ride in her wagon the rest of the way to the castle, where she's delivering her harvest.

Among the fruit in the back of her wagon I'm finally able to relax.

Mother throws a feast to celebrate my return.

It's on par with the ones thrown for my birthday, but not quite so grand as the Christmas feasts. It's that much more impressive on such short notice. I've only been back a couple of days and mother has already executed such a marvelous event. Rather than the usual guests from neighbouring kingdoms, the ones here consist mainly of lower royalty from our own. It's certainly a different atmosphere, but the lack of diplomatic responsibility is nice.

After so long with plain meals, the feast is heavenly. I eat as much as I can, the spices and herbs addictively decadent. Mother doesn't eat very much, presumably on another one of her diets.

Usually she would glance at me distastefully for eating so tactlessly, but I suppose the event calls for some lenience. She beams at me. I don't know how I went a month without seeing her, but I'm back now and her happiness upon my return is contagious.

As the night draws on, I grow tired at a remarkable rate. Mother notices immediately and asks me if I want to retire for the night. It's proof of how grateful she is for me coming back that she even permits it, but the knowledge that she'll only treat me like this for so long makes me not want to cut my time with her short.

I can't ignore my body much longer though. I start to feel a bit nauseous and agree to mother's demands that I be escorted to my rooms by one of the servants.

"My lovely daughter is departing early, I fear she may have eaten badly," mother announces to our guests.

I don't think I ate too much, but mother says a lot of strange things, so I don't comment on it. Instead I lower myself carefully into bed, careful not to agitate my stomach any further. If I didn't feel nauseous when mother sent me away from dinner, I sure do now.

I wake up feeling a lot better; yet, my eyes won't open. I stop trying to see and focus on the voices coming from my doorway.

"-not dead," I catch mother saying. Which is certainly true.

I fall back into sleep.

I wake up freezing. I can tell I'm not in my bed any longer, I'm lying on a cold, hard surface that chills me completely. I try to reach out with a hand to feel the material, but I can't move my body. I try moving different parts of my body, none of them respond. The only movement my body is capable of is slight shivers that wrack my frame, useless against the frigid temperature.

I know it will be a long time before I fall asleep again.