Title: Treason
Author: scarlettandgold
Ship: Snow White and Eric the Huntsman
Rating: M
Summary: King William cannot bear the thought of losing the love of his life again. So he turns to the one man he knows he can trust to keep her safe. The one man whom he would trust with his life.
Disclaimer: The main characters and world of Snow White and the Huntsman do not belong to me, this is a work of fan fiction. The story and some of the characters and settings are mine.
Warnings: Infidelity
Chapter One
It is a grey and windswept Tuesday when William makes his first grave mistake as King.
"Now I must ask, my Queen, that you do not allow that temper of yours to let you forget your manners…" He casts me a lopsided grin over his shoulder and winks before turning to open an imposing steel door. I frown in response but take the hand he offers. He gives my fingers a reassuring squeeze and leads me in to a tall room.
I hadn't been paying attention to where he was taking me but I immediately recognise the high ceilings of Ravenna's old throne room. It is the room where I nearly lost William – where Ravenna's black glass guards fought my soldiers while I confronted the Queen in the mirror room beyond.
All remains of that battle were swept away months ago and now we had all but abandoned this wing of the castle – favoring instead to use the large dining room in the west wing with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. Being back in here brings back memories that tighten my gut but I follow William forward, trusting he wouldn't bring me here but for a good reason.
"Snow, my love. I know it is important to you to visit all our subjects personally, even though I have voiced my concerns for your safety travelling so far outside the castle walls."
I am barely following his words – looking at the columns still standing like war-weary soldiers holding up the dark ceiling. The murky corners feel like they might hold a dozen ghosts and I screw my nose up at the acrid smell – there is a lingering scent of charred wood and leather.
"And so if you are going to insist on travelling with me into the unknown," he continues, "I must insist that you know how to defend yourself."
He stops and I turn to look at him. He waits with an expectant smile on this face – gesturing towards the steps I walked up to face Ravenna here so long ago.
There is a man sitting there and the breadth of his shoulders give him away instantly. He unfolds long legs to stand and my stomach reacts with a long slow flip.
"Eric." The name comes out of me on a breath, without my permission.
He begins to walk towards us.
"Your Highnesses," he says in his low brogue. His direct gaze drops only for the second it takes him to dip his head with a nod of respect.
"Eric." I nod back. William takes my elbow.
"Now, my love – please do not be angry." He turns me to him and I find it hard to focus on his face – this face I've come to love and trust. He smiles his warm smile. "I cannot bear the thought of you ever being taken from me again. So I want us to prepare for any risk and I need you to be able to take care of yourself if I'm not there to do it."
A mounting dread sends a chill through me and I open my mouth to speak but he holds a hand up. "Hear me out first. I know you are far from helpless. But I need you to be good – very good. Eric is the best fighter I've seen. I've asked him to teach you to wield a sword as well as he does."
"William, I…" I glance at Eric who is watching our exchange. "You have already given me plenty of tuition in archery – I do not need to…"
"You need to know hand to hand combat, Snow. I wish that were not the case but this land is still a dangerous place. I will have my Queen able to protect herself at all times – one day even protect our children."
He takes my hands, gently pulling me closer. "Please, allow me this peace. I trust Eric with my life and you are my life." William takes a finger and draws it softly down my jaw. Out of the corner of my vision I see Eric turn his head discretely towards the wall of windows.
I try and focus on breathing evenly, although my heart is speeding in my chest. I'd thought I had buried these feelings - feelings I had barely acknowledged let alone voiced.
After I returned to my kingdom many months ago, Eric had left, moving out to become part of the Hunting village just beyond the castle's walls. I saw him only rarely and each time I was left confused by the overwhelming feelings each left me with. Soon after, William began courting me and the whole castle appeared to approve. So I decided to avoid Eric and the confusion his presence caused me. But now he was here, his physical appearance causing a hitch in my throat as it always has. I turn away from him, and to William.
"Very well, my King," I sigh. He smiles and tilts my face forward, kissing my forehead.
"Thank you. And thank you, Eric. I appreciate your service - and your discretion." William takes Eric's firm handshake. "You have the sword we discussed?"
"Aye." Eric draws a fabric wrapped parcel from under his arm, holding it out. Despite my irritation at this whole arrangement, I cannot fool myself that I am not intrigued. At William's nod, Eric begins to unravel the thick brown material to reveal a shining silver broadsword. It is slim and long, with an intricate basket of fine gold arranged over the hilt for a hand cover. I cannot resist reaching for it and Eric guides it naturally into my hand. When my fingers close around the hilt I nearly gasp at the weight – it is no heavier than a small wooden play sword. I turn the magnificent piece easily and stare at it in my hand, marveling at the intricate workings on the basket hilt.
"Is it as you specified?" I glance up, realizing William is addressing Eric.
The Huntsman nods. "Aye, m'lord." He takes one long stride and he is there, filling the space around me. I look up at him but he is focused on the sword in my hand.
"Beautifully lightweight and balanced," Eric says as he places his fingertips under the blade. I banish an errant thought of how, this close, his low voice seems to vibrate through my own chest. He tilts the sword and the light from the slit windows catches the blade and runs down the length of it. William steps forward, engrossed.
"And the grip?"
"Aye, as we discussed-" Eric takes my wrist with one of his huge hands and I fight to keep my breathing even. "- it is no' the traditional handshake grip."
"When a man makes a fist, his knuckles are straight – so the handshake grip is ideal. But when a woman makes a fist, her knuckles are curved." He runs a finger over the arc of my knuckles. I succeed in not flinching but I know my breathing is shallow and too quick. I risk a glance at William and he has not noticed, he is still marveling at the sword. Eric drops my hand.
"It is truly exquisite. My thanks and compliments to the sword smith," William says with awe.
Eric nods.
I stand there, sword in hand between my husband and Eric. These two men who in this very room, came to my aid when I was facing my greatest foe – Ravenna. The last time I was in this room it was still full of debris from our battle. Looking around now, I can see it has been cleaned thoroughly – the flagstone floor is well swept although the strip of red carpet is no longer here. Eric sees me looking around.
"We will train in the Mirror Room, Pri… Your highness," he says.
A cold dread grips me at that; this is where I killed Ravenna. And though it had been justified and the only option – I still took no delight in the memory of it. I was not designed to kill.
And then there is another dread... that of being alone with Eric. I glance at him and he is watching me. He makes me nervous but I think he is oblivious to it - has always been oblivious to the effect he has on me. I grudgingly admit to myself that he would be the perfect tutor to teach me how to fight, and that he would likely just show me a few things and be gone by the time I turned back around. One thing Eric never does is overstay his welcome.
"Please, Eric – just Snow," I mutter.
"Very well, Snow."
"Well, I will leave you two to it."
"What?" I whip around to see William walking backwards. "Where are you going?"
He grins. "I would only be a distraction, my love. You are in good hands with Eric."
I watch him walk back to the tall double doors, my handsome, good William. I want to yell at him that he is making a mistake.
But before long the sound of the door closing echoes against the cavernous ceiling and I am alone, with Eric. We both stand in silence for a while and I try and think of something to say. Then he turns and heads back towards the Mirror Room.
"Let's get started."
The room is smaller than I remember it; my bitter memories must have overblown the dimensions. The mirror still hangs on the far wall but it is covered with thick cloth. The magic in it seemed to have died with Ravenna but no one was willing to test that.
I circle the fire pit in the middle of the floor, focused on the ashes there, trying to block out the image of Ravenna standing in the centre of the flames, screaming and melting. I force myself to look around at the circular walls with their stone vines climbing and over to the steps where Ravenna finally met her end. I can picture her there too, gasping at me with fear in her dying eyes.
"Snow?"
Eric has removed his leather tunic and stands on the other side of the fire pit in just his shirtsleeves and fitted breeches. He has my sword in one large hand and two padded sticks in the other. He frowns as he walks slowly around the fire towards me.
"Are ye ok? We don't have to have to train here if you don't want to."
I attempt to stifle a rising panic as he gets closer but it threatens to swell up and choke me. I can't honestly decide if it is brought on by being in this room or by being alone with this man.
"I'm fine," I mutter, but I continue to circle the pit, staring into the dead ashes and keeping the distance between us constant.
"I know ye didna want to do this. And I know it's less than necessary; if I remember rightly, you already have a fairly lethal right hook."
I glance across at him and he wears a slight smile, rubbing his jaw as if he can still feel the impact of that punch I landed there in the Dark Forest so long ago. Despite myself, I feel my lips tug into a smile too.
"There it is. Finally, a smile." He says this as if to himself. Then he weighs my sword in one hand for a moment before spinning it absently yet effortlessly, wrist fluid. Without moving his body, he swivels the sword a few times, each move finishing with a strike that would cut to the heart of an opponent. Again I find my curiosity piqued without consciously permitting it and I realize I may be being unreasonable. If anyone is going to teach me survival skills to help me be a better Queen for my kingdom, it is he.
He grins and I find myself smiling back.
"I'll just teach you a little more of what I know. I remember you took my first lesson to heart exceptionally well."
I glance at the steps where I drove the dagger into Ravenna's heart, just as Eric had taught me to in the Dark Forest. He was right then and he is probably right now. I look back at him and he is watching me, his expression serious.
Even across the room I can feel the connection again, the knowledge we have of each other just from shared moments that no one else knows of. Despite the distance between us of late, it still appears to be like a cipher between us – only he and I know all those details of our journey from the Dark Forest that was the beginning of the kingdom as it stands today.
I trusted him with my life then, and I trust him with it now. Even though I barely see him anymore, I realize nothing has changed. I square my shoulders to face him.
"Very well, Huntsman. Show me what I need to know."
He smiles. "Very well, your Highness - Snow. Let us begin."
My footsteps echo in the passageway that leads to my chambers. I have dismissed the guards that escorted me to my wing as my ladies maids are in my room, waiting with a drawn bath. This short walk down the corridor is my only moment to be alone since I left the training session with Eric. I slow to a stop and place one hand on the tapestry hung wall and the other on my ribs. Unbidden, a smile comes to my lips.
My thoughts race disobediently over the last hour. At first, I attempted to keep a respectable distance as Eric began to teach me how to block blows. But it became apparent that my reticence would just hinder my learning. Eric didn't seem to notice that I avoided his touch – true to his nature he grabbed me when and how he saw fit, blithely inappropriate with my personal space.
It became a blur of his physical presence, his towering height and broad shoulders over shadowing me, his strength filling my every sense and making it hard to make sense of his instruction. Every incidental touch - his fingers around my wrists, his hands grasping my ribs in the very spot where my own palm is now. At one point his thumb accidentally grazed the underside of my breast and I flinched before I could stop myself. I don't know if he noticed.
I take a deep breath in, trying to calm my blood. I can still smell him on me.
A tiny thrill assaults my stomach and I push myself away from the wall.
Muttering a curse under my breath, I continue to walk towards my bedroom and the welcome bath that awaits.
William is waiting to escort me to dinner as soon as I leave my chambers. I am freshly bathed and scented and yet when he goes to kiss my hand, I have a moment of panic that I may still carry Eric's scent. It is an odd thing to think and I dismiss it immediately.
"Please tell me you don't hate me for that," he says, squinting at me.
I smile as I take his arm and we begin to stroll towards the dining hall. I wait a moment before answering with a small shake of my head.
"If I did, I will soon have the means by which to make you pay."
He grins and I do too. He lowers his head to speak near my ear. "I will accept any physical punishment the lady sees fit."
I nod and squeeze his arm and I hope he knows that means I would like him to visit me tonight. I look up to share a moment of eye contact but he is already looking ahead, nodding to the guards on the door of the dining hall.
We enter to a full hall on their feet behind their place sittings at the long wooden tables, waiting for their King and Queen. This is one of my favorite rooms of the palace; it is large and airy with tall, beautiful colored glass windows set near the ceiling that cast a peaceful warm glow over the proceedings of an early evening. I nod to Beith and the other dwarves as we pass and they bow back, smiling. Ladies curtsey as we pass also which I have never felt comfortable with but William has helped me get used to it. The dinner protocol is as informal as I could manage but there is still a certain amount of spectacle that William says I must retain.
We approach the few steps that will lead us to our seats at the head table and it is then that I see him. Standing at the place to the side of my chair is Eric. He dips in a bow but not before I notice his eyes flicker from my feet up to my blue and silver-flecked bodice, over the swell of my breasts and finally to my face. I nearly stumble up the stairs but William rights me and leads me to sit down. I feel disorientated for a second, so much so I startle as the assembled subjects shout 'Long live the King and Queen!' – even though that happens every night we dine. I sit, still stunned and those around us sit too. William does not notice my agitation and is talking to his father who sits at his side.
"Evening, Your Highness." Eric's deep voice rumbles through me and I fix a convincing smile on my face before looking up at him. He folds down into his seat and reaches for his napkin; I watch his hands as they move.
"Good evening, Eric."
"How's the body feeling?"
I flush at his question, grasping my own cloth napkin and fussing with it.
"Fine, thank you."
"You might be a bit sore tomorrow."
I nod, somehow mortified. William finally turns to us.
"I asked Eric to dine here at the castle with us- for the few weeks while you train, and stay whenever he desires to." William leans forward to talk to Eric directly. "You mustn't think you need come to formal dining if you don't care to though; I realize you may want to eat informally or travel home to check on your lodgings."
Eric nods graciously. "Thank you, Your Highness."
"Please, Eric – William here."
"Aye, William."
I sit stock still as the men talk across me, trying to make sense of what has happened today. I have gone from seeing Eric rarely, perhaps once a fortnight at most, to having him dominate my every waking hour. I glance at him as he talks. There was a time when I missed him, where I felt sad that he chose to live on the outskirts of town with the royal Hunters but once William and I started courting I had that and the wedding to concentrate on. Now I realize I didn't ever get to say a proper goodbye to him after the coronation, after all that we shared. I suppose that it is natural that I would have odd feelings concerning him.
"And how did our student fare today?" William asks with a smile in his voice that grates on my nerves.
"Aye, she was very good." Eric leans back to be served his plate. The buxom serving girl leans needlessly close to him and tries to catch his eye but he doesn't notice.
"Well again, I must thank you for agreeing to this, Eric. I would trust no other with the task."
Eric nods and William turns back to his father. I try and suppress the irritation I feel at being spoken about as if I'm some filly to be broken but I stay silent, and set about eating my meal. I am famished and the food is delicious. Eric doesn't say much, and before long we are finished our meals and it is time to leave.
I'm about to excuse myself when William turns, places a hand on my forearm and addresses Eric. "Same time tomorrow?"
Eric gives me a small and quick, almost sympathetic smile.
"Aye, if that suits you, Snow."
I give a falsely obliging nod. "Certainly. Of course."
William claps his hands, pleased with himself and missing my sarcastic tone entirely. "Well then. We bid you all good night."
He stands and offers me his arm. I stand and take it though I feel a profound annoyance with my husband right now. I do not bid good night to Eric or even look in his direction.
But by the time William is dropping me at the corridor to my quarters I have calmed myself again. In fact as I turn to him and let him take me in his arms I am filled with a surge of relief and – perhaps strangely – another equal surge of desire. He kisses me and I open my mouth just a little to deepen the kiss. He makes a noise against my lips, grasping my arms and extracting himself gently.
"Snow, not here…" He glances at the guards standing to attention at the stone archway leading to my quarters. They stare steadfastly ahead, doing a very good job of feigning inattention.
"Will you visit me later?" I whisper, surprising myself with my boldness.
William smiles and strokes my cheek. "Yes, my love." I smile back. "If our gentlemen's discussions don't go on too long."
He plants a kiss on my forehead and misses seeing the smile dropping from my face.
Back in my room, the waiting maids take out my hair and loosen my stays before quietly leaving. When they are gone I change into the more intricate of my nightgowns, enjoying the soft folds of fabric and lace and how they feel against my bare skin. I spend a long time brushing my hair straight with the bone hairbrush that once belonged to my mother. Then I pull the curtains to the solitary window wide and extinguish all the lamps before getting into my large four-poster bed.
I lie there on my back with my hair spread out on the pillow, staring at the canopy above. It's a while before I throw off the suffocating covers. I pull my knees up and the silky material of the nightgown slides down my thighs. My hands go from resting on my stomach to trailing down over my hips and on to caress the tops of my legs. I close my eyes.
An image comes into my mind of being found here like this. I picture him entering my chamber and sitting quietly on the edge of the bed. In my mind's eye I see him place a hand over one of mine as I stroke my thighs. Then he leans down to kiss me, not my lips but my throat, and the dip between my collarbones. I move my hands to his arms, running my fingers over hard muscles under a rough calico shirt, and on to grasp his broad shoulders. His hand trails higher, fingers brushing between my legs. I bury my face in his neck, lifting my hips to him.
My eyes fly open. My imagination had filled in the distinctive smell of the man I was picturing. I feel my face heat in the dark room. I had not been picturing the spiced, clean scent of my husband, but rather the heady mix of musk and leather that belongs solely to Eric. I draw the covers over me and turn on to my side, shutting my eyes to the thoughts.
I wake early to the light streaming through the open curtains and the realization that my husband did not visit in the night.