The Snow Queen
By Lt. Noin (imnutz@hotmail.com)

Status: complete
Category: romance, AU, fairy tale rewrite
Spoilers: none
Season: none
Rating: G
Content Warnings: none.
Summary: A rewrite of "The Snow Queen" with Noin as Gerda
and Zechs as Kay. It can be read as a sort of companion
piece to my At the Last.
Disclaimer: the people aren't mine, the show isn't mine,
the original storyline isn't mine; nothing here is mine
but the prose. Be nice and don't sue?
Author's Notes: Please just ask me for permission if you
want to archive this? I'm usually very nice about this; I
just like knowing where my stuff is. Other fics of mine
can be found at http://www.geocities.com/tmtestosterone
in the library. And C&C is always greatly appreciated!!
^_^ Also, the version of "The Snow Queen" (Hans Christian
Anderson's) that I read as a kid and vaguely remembered
while I wrote this is at http://hca.gilead.org.il/snow_que.html.
Thanks to Eddie for finding it!
==========================================================

In a land that had known naught but peace for centuries on
end, there lived a girl and her best friend in all the
world. And though he was a prince and she of a family that
worked the land, they had each grown up knowing the
other's secrets as their own. Some swore that they could
not tell where the prince began and the girl ended, though
he was as bright as summer's joy and she as dark as the
starry night's calm.

As the prince came of age, he was taken away from the girl
at odd hours to learn the deep secrets of statecraft. And
the girl grew lonely in their times apart, but the prince
would always return to her, his face a beacon as he spoke
to her of how great his father was to manufacture such an
ever-lasting peace. It was the joy of the country, he told
her, and he wanted to keep that piece of sunlight in their
hearts even in the bitterest days of winter. For that
peace was what made their land the summer land through all
seasons. And she would tell him of her own dreams of the
stars, and their joys were greater for the sharing. They
shared and dreamt wherever they could, but there were some
dreams too deep and too precious to be overheard by
anything, save the roses.

The prince and the girl had planted the garden in a time
before their memories had coalesced from the mists of
dreams, but still, they had done so with only the help of
their own clumsy fingers. They fed the roses with laughter
and watered them with their childhood sorrows, and the
roses that grew were imbued with their most secret of
hearts. There were roses of milky white, of thickest
cream, and of golden butter. There were roses of delicate
spring green, roses the color of a maiden's first blush,
and even a few roses the color of the girl's night-dark
hair. But though the girl loved the garden above all her
possessions, she felt an absence in it, and the lack
pierced her heart.

They were in the garden when the Snow Queen's mirror
broke, for their roses bloomed even in the deathly chill
of winter. And when the girl heard the glass shatter, she
was afraid.

"Let's go inside," she urged the prince, although they
still had secrets to share. "The Snow Queen's mirror has
broken, and if we are not careful, a shard may pierce us
in the eye and worm its way to our heart. And then, it
will take away all that is beautiful."

"No," said the prince. "Why are you afraid of the old
fairy stories? This is my father's kingdom, and peace has
reigned here through many winters. Besides, perhaps the
Snow Queen herself is beautiful, and her mirror will
reflect that."

But, the girl thought, her winter, bright though it may
be, is a season of death, except for the roses and the
summer in the people's hearts. Still, she stayed with the
prince, though the sweetness in their shared secrets was
suddenly tinged with bitterness.

The prince had felt a sharpness in his eye when he heard
the mirror crack, but for fear and for curiosity, he did
not tell the girl. Thus, when they met in the garden again
the next day, he sneered at their roses.

"How can you care for them so?" he asked the girl. "Look
at them. They are ugly and worm-eaten."

"But," she replied, "even if it were so, we planted them
together and gave all our secrets to them for safe
keeping."

The prince laughed, and the girl shivered, the warmth of
the garden evaporating.

"Not so. For I have kept a secret to myself. I am the Snow
Queen's warrior and consort, and you are nothing in her
brilliance."

With those words, he left on a chill wind for the Snow
Queen's palace, to return what was rightfully hers.

In terror and alarm, the girl turned to their roses for
comfort, only to see the roses wither as she laid eye on
them, their dying petals falling to the ground in a
whirlwind of color.

* * *

It was winter, and there was nothing alive, not even the
roses. The girl was sitting in the garden, sifting through
the faded petals, when the king of the land came for her.

"Where is my son?" he asked her, for all in the land knew
the two were as inseparable as sun and shadow.

"He has gone to the Snow Queen, for a shard of her mirror
is trapped in his heart," she said, and the king despaired.

"He is my son, and the land is in need of him, for he
embodies the summer in the people's hearts," the king said.

"Then I shall bring him back to you," the girl said as she
shook off the dead petals, "and I hope I shall be enough."

"But the Snow Queen's palace lies above the stars and
below the earth," said the king of the land.

"I shall find him," the girl promised.


She was given sturdy boots made of the finest leather, a
thick coat made of the warmest furs, and a sack filled
with food for her journey. And with her, she took a
handful of dried rose petals, to remind herself of the
summer. She walked north where the frost winds whistled,
and she walked for days and days, until the wind stole her
very breath and dulled her memory. But always, it would
carry the faint scent of roses, and she would remember her
purpose and journey on. When at last she could walk no
further, she came across a reindeer lying in the snow.

"Reindeer," the girl said, "do you know where the Snow
Queen's palace lies?"

"Why must you know?" asked the reindeer. "The Snow Queen
would freeze your limbs and numb your body."

"The prince of my land is there," she replied, "and my
country is in need of him."

"Ah," said the reindeer. "I do not know, but perhaps the
polar bear will."

"I thank you," said the girl, and she gave the reindeer
her leather boots, for she saw his hooves were worn from
outrunning hunters.

She trekked further, with only the rose petals for
comfort, until she could again go no more. And there, at
her feet, lay a great polar bear on his side, shivering.

"Polar bear," asked the girl, "can you tell me where the
Snow Queen lives?"

"Why?" asked the polar bear gruffly. "She would only turn
your warm blood cold if you approached."

"Please," she said, "the son of my king is there, and my
king is in need of him."

"I see. I am sorry, then, for I do not know. But the Old
Lady may."

"I thank you," said the girl, and she laid her fur coat
on the bear, for she saw his own was thin against the ice.

She walked further than she thought she could, and when
she finally ran out of strength, the scent of rose petals
brought back the summer and gave her enough warmth to go
forward. Finally, beyond all the boundaries of the earth,
she came across a small shack in the snow. She knocked on
the door and was greeted by a woman who looked older than
even Father Time, who was as old as birth of the world.

"Grandmother," the girl asked, "can you show me the way to
the Snow Queen's land?"

"Why for, dear heart?" the old lady asked. "The Snow Queen
will chill your heart until there is no love left and turn
it into an icy dead thing."

"Perhaps so," said the girl with a mouthful of fear, but
she went on, knowing the old lady would accept naught but
the true reason for her long journey, "but she holds my
best friend in all the world there, and I am desperate to
have him by my side again."

"Well spoken, child. I will show you the land that lies
above the stars and below the earth, but the journey is
long and hard, and you must win your friend back without
my help."

"I thank you, Grandmother," said the girl as she left her
sack of food in the shack, for she could see that the
pantries were bare and the shelves were unstocked.

But her knees shook when she turned back. The shack had
disappeared, and with it, the old lady she now knew to be
Grandmother Death. Despite her fear, she walked on, past
even the boundaries of the eternal, until she stumbled
across a hole in the ground. Remembering the whispered
words of Grandmother Death, she climbed into the hole and
fell into an underground cavern that sparkled with the
light of hidden gems. She continued to walk, ignoring the
precious stones in her path and the silvery ores at her
sides. At last, she stopped before a magnificent palace
carved entirely of ice. It glittered and sparkled in the
captive light of the gemstones, and it shone with the
reflected glow of the cavern's metals. It was grander than
anything the girl had ever imagined, and in front of it
was a lake that reflected its lights and looked as though
all the stars in the sky had been drowned within.
Together, the lake and the palace lit up the dark cavern
with an otherworldly brilliance, and the girl wondered how
anyone could say that the Snow Queen left only ugliness in
her wake. The girl stood still in awe, unaware of the
numbness in her fingers or the sluggish flow of her blood.
For the briefest moment, the wisp of a golden day in a
garden shone through the ice, only to be buried once more
by the relentless cold. But it was enough to make her
remember the beauty of the roses, and to her, their warm
glow was more beautiful than anything the Snow Queen could
ever make. So the girl awoke and found the prince in front
of her, staring at her handful of dried petals.

"Who are you?" he asked. "You are not welcome here. Why do
you bar my way to the Snow Queen's palace?"

The girl looked at him in shock, for a silver mask covered
his face, and his hair, rather then being the color of
sunlight through a windowpane, was the empty shade of ice,
and his eyes, once summer-sky bright, were a frosty,
lifeless blue.

"Don't you know me?" she asked. "You don't belong here.
You are the prince of the land. Your people need you. Your
father the king wants you back. And I -- I cannot live
without you."

He looked past her, toward the palace, as he said, "I am
the Snow Queen's consort and no man's son. And as the heat
of war keeps me alive, I have need of no one. Not even
you."

Cut to the core by his betrayal, she felt the threadbare
hope that had kept her alive tear apart, and she collapsed
at his feet, too shattered to stand.

"How could you have forgotten?" the girl keened, partly to
herself. "How could you have forsaken your dreams so
easily?"

But she dared not ask how he could have forgotten their
roses, for fear he might answer and crush the remainder of
her heart.

And in a voice even colder than his eyes, he told her to
move aside, or he would command the frost winds to cut her
down where she lay.

But she refused, and she watched in silent horror as he
prepared to call the frost winds of the north, unable to
believe that even now he could raise a hand against what
they once had.

Still he continued.

In desperation and in sick despair, she threw the petals
at him, for without hope of him, they were useless to her,
and she cared not what might happen to her.

As they engulfed him, their scent filled the air, reviving
memories he thought were long dead. His spell stopped, and
the silver mask cracked to reveal eyes wet with regret and
shame. The girl, not yet daring to hope, reached
cautiously for him and held him as the melting of the ice
washed away the shard lodged in his heart.

"I remember," he whispered to the girl. "I remember."

Against the snow, the petals were as red as the heart's
deepest blood.

With that, the Snow Queen knew she had lost her consort,
and her anger swelled within her, fierce as a storm in the
dead of winter. But before she could lift a hand against
the two, Grandmother Death barred her way.

"Go," she said to the girl. "Your loving heart has won you
a way back to your homeland."

The girl turned to find the polar bear and the reindeer
waiting behind her, and she and the prince mounted the two
as the Snow Queen screamed her rage to the winds. That
day, as the two flew swiftly away, the world wondered at
the malicious voice in the cold north wind.

They soon escaped the icy clutches of the Snow Queen's
country and were met with great festivity in their own
land. And even though she was pleased in her most secret
of hearts, the girl nearly fled when she found all the
celebration was in honor of her deed. For she had returned
summer to the land, and its people were grateful.

However, even in the midst of all the people, the prince
and the girl managed to slip away in the twilight when day
embraces night. They stole into their rose garden, for
each had a secret singing in the heart that longed to be
shared with the other. Upon entering, they looked at each
other and rejoiced. The roses that had died were reborn,
more glorious and more fragrant than ever before. And the
girl felt a strange peace in her heart, for the absence
that had hurt her so before was now gone, and in its place
was a thing more beautiful than even the Snow Queen's
palace had been.

A crimson cluster of roses grew in the very heart of the
garden, and the girl and the prince walked toward it of
one accord, knowing that only these roses could possibly
endure a secret as sweet as the ones beating against their
hearts.

"I thank you," said the prince as he knelt at her feet and
kissed her hand, "for giving my people back the summer.
But I thank you most for returning it to me."

"No," said the girl with a gentle smile as she knelt down
beside him. "I did nothing, for you are the summer. And -- "

She broke off and shyly looked down, afraid that if she
let her secret out of her heart, it would lose its value
and be mocked.

"And?" asked the prince, for he too was afraid, afraid
that the Snow Queen's shard had tainted him so that the
girl would not tell him the secrets of her heart.

"And," she continued in a voice barely above a whisper,
sensing his fear and overcoming her own, "I love you."

He touched her night-dark hair, smiling. "And I you," he
said, giving his own secret away as he kissed her beneath
the red, red roses.

The End