The stars were whispering to each other about the lost child below them. They twinkled and glimmered in the sky, carefree and endless, though they lighted her way as they did so. The young girl was on the brink of womanhood, and she did not remember from whence she came, nor why. All that remained in her mind was that she had to continue running. Her breathing came more rapidly as she fled deeper and deeper into the forest. The light of the stars grew faint and she became enveloped in dim leaves and branches so that the tops of the trees threatened to encompass her in darkness. She had forgotten why she couldn't stop; she had forgotten everything except for that very moment. Her pale dress billowed behind her as her dainty bare feet leapt across the undergrowth and twigs like a deer. The only sounds were her loud pants and the leaves shuffling as she passed. Not a creature stirred in the still night, as if they did not wish to disturb her passage or hinder her journey.
Finally, when she felt as if her legs would not carry her any further, she saw a small radiance, blinking through the foliage. She longed to hurry to it, as if it were a haven, but she could run no faster, and slowly she began to stumble, inching undaunted towards the little light.
As she neared it, the illumination became a window, which was attached to a large cottage built into a great oak tree. She was too exhausted to be in awe of the design, which was quite intricate. Instead she painstakingly staggered to the door and fell upon the front steps, her small white hand turning the doorknob as she collapsed. This motion caused the door to open noisily and she crumbled into the warm room. Everything was as silent as before and she looked up, curious and afraid. No one was there.
Presently, she regained enough strength to get up and close the door, which apparently had been unlocked. Perhaps the owners of the little house did not receive too many visitors so that they felt safe to leave the door such. Or perhaps it was that no one lived in the little house, for she could see no signs that it had been occupied for quite some time. Everything was so dusty, yet it had a homely smell to it, which she found that she liked, although it was not a familiar aroma. She only had time to scan the room quickly before realizing that she would soon have to find a bed or collapse again on the floor. There were dark, winding stairs directly to her left and slowly, she began to climb, her exhausted limbs refusing to carry her with further speed.
Upon reaching the top, she found seven rooms, each uniquely numbered with multiples of seven. It was strange, yet her eyes would not let her register anything more and she stumbled blindly into the room marked 21, falling gently into the bed.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
The girl had been dreaming, but she did not remember what it was about. All she could hear were voices, murmuring and a bright light to her right. Slowly she began to open her eyes only to stare at another pair of them. She gasped soundly and sat up immediately, pulling the covers up to her neck.
Around her were several little men, seven to be exact. They ranged from young boy to old man, all standing in age order, surrounding her bed. The youngest looked to be about seven, and the eldest, fifty. She was afraid they were robbers or bandits, but then she remembered the seven rooms and realized that this was probably their home. It occurred to her that it wouldn't be proper for her to speak first, so she closed her mouth solemnly for it had been standing agape until then.
It was the oldest looking man who addressed her first. "Dear child, what are you doing in our humble home? Are you an angel come to take us away?" She did not understand his meaning and merely shook her head while staring at him. "Tell me," he spoke again, breathlessly, "what is your name?" She opened her mouth for a moment, out of habit for responding to such a simple question, yet she closed it immediately, realizing with dread that she could not answer. Instead she said, "I-I'm sorry, I don't remember." The other men shuffled uncomfortably and hovered further, though they never took their eyes from her.
"How did you get in here young angel?" The oldest man prompted again.
"The door, the door was unlocked and I just stumbled in," she said hurriedly. The gazes of the seven men were terribly unsettling and she looked at her hands to find something to focus on. "I'm sorry, I don't remember anything much before that. Only that I was running away from something."
"Ah, my poor dear. Whatever it was that you have forgotten must have been very painful for you to bear. Perhaps your mind has now caused you forget such a horrid memory," said the eldest. His eyes looked kindly upon her now, as if he were looking at his own daughter. "You look tired and worn my child. Please, stay here until you regain your strength and we will care for you, beautiful child," he said soothingly.
She finally looked up at all of their faces, so close to her own. It was difficult to utter words this time, but she managed to murmur them, "Please, if it is not too much trouble, I would like to stay here longer than that. I, I have nowhere else to go. If I could just, if I could just stay here with you, kind masters, I would not be a hindrance! I would cook and clean, I would-"
"Enough, small beauty, enough. Say nothing more. We shall consider this action when we can all talk in privacy, but for now, you may stay. If you are to remain in our home, we must have a name to call you by." He looked at her for a moment and then said softly, " Your skin, it is as white as a pearl, as the clouds and the foam of the sea. Your blue eyes seem to hold winter in them. We shall call you Snow White. Such a beautiful child with such snowy white skin, blood-red lips, and ebony hair."
"If all of it is true, why do you not name me "Blood Red" or "Ebony Black"? She asked suddenly.
"Because you are pure as the snow my child. A delicate snowflake lost of all prior memories, a blank sky of innocence. Rest now, Snow White. We shall entertain your stay."
Several days passed in succession, each one as uneventful as the last. Snow White quickly regained her strength after drinking a medicinal soup that one of the young dwarves made for her. He was the one whose room she had stumbled inside the first night of her stay; he was the one with '21' above his chamber. When she asked them why they had such numbers painted on their doors they told her that each number indicated the exact age of each brother. At this, Snow White said, "Then I suppose you must repaint your doors each year."
"Why would we do a thing like that?" the youngest, 7, said incredulously. 14 seemed to be just as surprised, yet the rest of them, from 21 up seemed to shift uneasily, not daring to look Snow White in the eyes. She could tell then that these were no ordinary brothers. "We…do not change our door numbers," 42 said finally, "it is not our way." The poor girl was quite confused at this answer, though she decided it was best to pursue her questions at a later time, when she felt more at ease around her new companions, so she put the thought aside and smiled sweetly at them. At her expression, the dwarves breathed a sigh of relief that she had not inquired any further upon their queer habits and proceeded to file out of the room, which was to be hers until her stay was finished. 7 was built a temporary bed in 14's room.
Snow White learned to call them by their numerical titles, though she found it uncomfortable, as if they were mere livestock to be named as such. 49 told her that they had real names, but they did not wish her to know them until they trusted her. The dwarves were particularly secretive and protective of their birth-names. Snow White also learned that the brothers were all miners, and every day before sunrise they would head out towards the tall mountains that could be seen just above the tops of the nearest trees. The young girl ached to see them go, for it was very lonely in the little cottage without seven men to grace it with their presence. Even the youngest, 7, had to go with them, he and 14 carried the jewels that had been mined to the storage carts.
They mined for the young King of a nearby kingdom because they were indebted to him, and because they loved their work. Snow White was curious to know why such odd little men would be indebted to a king, but she said nothing once more and tucked the thought into her memory to pull out later for asking when the time was appropriate.
After one month had passed since her entry into their lives, the dwarves were surprised to find that Snow White did not go upstairs to her little bed one evening, but instead, sat herself near the fire and told them to do so as well. They clustered around the girl, comfortable with her presence now, and curious at her sudden request. She looked at each one, granting them individual smiles, smirks and grins until she finally gave a huge sigh and breathed, "It has been one month now since we first met and I have come to love you all so much." The little men were speechless, yet they all smiled in return, for each, secretly and in his own way, had grown to love Snow White as well. "I wanted to thank you all for taking me in when I was but a fledging dropped upon your doorstep one evening. I wish to show my gratitude so I have made you all sweaters for the coming winter. They are in your rooms on your beds," she said with a bright smile.
35's eyes lighted up at the mention of sweaters, for he was the largest of the seven brothers and could scarcely find comfortable clothes to suit him. Getting new clothes was not an everyday occurrence, and so the little men bowed their heads slightly towards the girl in thanks and proceeded up to their rooms to find the little treasures she had left them.
42 and 28 had stayed behind though, and turning towards Snow White, 42 said, "We would also like to bestow you with a gift, but my dear girl, we have known you for but a month and have lived amongst each other all our lives. We know not what lies in a woman's heart or what she desires. Please, ask of us anything you wish to have and we shall find it and bring it to you."
The girl did not know what to say at this sudden response. She was still pondering when the rest of the brothers came downstairs wearing their new sweaters. 7 was the first to speak, "Thank you Miss Snow White," he grinned happily and ran up to hug her slim waist. The spring green sweater matched his eyes and his bright personality. She laughed and hugged him back, though he was significantly smaller than she was. The others stayed well behind, afraid to approach the girl. It was not appropriate to show their gratitude in such a way, and instead they verbally gave their thanks, some venturing to shake her small white hand. It had only been a month, after all.
Snow White soon turned to 49, and felt a bit nervous. Though she was still a very young woman, and he, a grown man, she was a few inches taller than him. She felt like lowering herself, but thought that it would be insulting because she would have been acknowledging the height difference. Instead, she smiled slightly and looked shyly at him. "Actually, I have been wanting something," she began, and he beamed at her, "What is it, dear child?"
"If it's not too much trouble, I could you find me some paint, and brushes and a canvas?" At this request, some of the brothers looked confused, and others looked delighted. 35 said, "Do you like to paint then, Snow White?" Her red lips curved warmly, "I'm not sure, I still don't remember much from before I met you all, but I have this need to paint something, perhaps it's what I used to do. I won't know until I try, I suppose," and her soft voice seemed to trail off as she began to ponder about it. 14 said a bit shyly, "Well don't worry, we'll certainly get those things for you," and then he blushed a bit, "you deserve whatever makes you happy."
Only two days had passed and already, Snow White received her painting materials. 42 had gone off to town to buy her a canvas and paints, but the brushes had been made by 28, a skilled craftsman. The handle was made of light birch wood, and the soft hairs were from the wild stallions in the meadows near the forest. She later found out that it had been 21 who had tamed them enough to let 28 grasp some hairs. Snow White was ever so grateful, and the brothers told her she didn't have to do chores the entire day, just so she could sit down and paint. She felt a loving peace settle over her just then, even if she was only granted one day, it was more than enough.
It was midmorning when she began, sitting near the window of 21's room, her long silken hair tied back with a ribbon she had made from the hem of an old shirt she found. As she dipped the light brush into the paint and began to make the first stroke, she suddenly felt a pain in her head. It was slight, and not enough to discomfort her, but it still hurt a bit, like something was pulling her, a memory trying to burst out. It was then that she knew she had painted before, that it was a part of her old life. She was curious, wondering if she had any talent.
Her face was expressionless and calm as she began to paint the forest outside the window. She used dark greens for the shading, expertly winding the brush in her fingers to bring out the full potentials of the strokes and getting the right outcome, bushy, smooth, thin, and thick. Soon she began on the mountains beyond the canopy of the trees, the pale mountains that the dwarves traveled to each morning before sunrise to mine in.
Snow White was painting so intently that she did not notice two dark eyes watching her from the doorway. It was 21. He had walked towards the room to get some of his old belongings that he had forgotten to move to 7's room, but had stopped short of the threshold upon seeing the girl there, painting. She was finishing up a scene of the forest and mountains and he marveled at how perfectly she had captured the view he had seen every morning he woke up. He watched her with sad eyes, completely enraptured by her movements. She was beautiful, sitting there with the sunlight radiating off her pale skin, a slight blush on her cheeks from the excitement of finding her hidden talent. She looked so happy, the happiest he had ever seen her.
She began taking down the finished painting, and set it on the edge of the bed, leaning in the sun so that it would dry. By now it was lunchtime, and she was hungry, but for some reason, she wanted to keep painting. 21 could not tear his eyes from her, as if he were under an enchantment. He could not have known that it could not be helped. She was one of the most beautiful women in the entire kingdom, a beauty that was cursed. It was the cause of her pain; her lost memories and the hatred of a woman who was suppose to replace her mother. It was natural to become entranced by such a beauty, but he merely thought that he had no self-control.
He continued to watch as she took out some charcoal from her pocket and began to sketch something on the canvas. It became a face, and he watched with curiosity, wondering whom she was sketching. Someone from her past, perhaps? He found himself constantly wondering about her past and her mannerisms. Everything about the girl was elegant, the way she spoke, her movements and…and her form. She must have been someone of importance, he reasoned. He knew that she was a quiet girl by nature. She didn't like to speak, though she enjoyed company. It was much like the way he was, silent and peaceful.
He gazed, fascinated as the face began to take form. It was, familiar. He stared at it again, more intently and realized that it was he! Snow White was sketching him! 21 felt his heart leap in his chest, and a great happiness bubbled inside. She had almost finished when suddenly, her hand stopped, and she put the charcoal down. Her eyes, which had previously been wide with concentration and enthusiasm, lowered, her long lashes sweeping downwards. She sighed softly and began wiping away at the charcoal with an old rag. Soon it became a large gray blur on the page, his face gone. 21 frowned, wondering why she had erased such beautiful work. It was not that he thought himself handsome in any sense of the word, but it had been beautiful because she had drawn it, and because it looked just like him, the accuracy was amazing.
Snow White took up her brush again, and began painting something else. After half an hour, it was apparent that she was painting all the brothers, in their living room, standing in a row, with herself in the center. It was midday and 21 realized he had been standing there for most of the morning. None of the brothers had come looking for him because they probably though he was working in his garden. Quietly, 21 edged out of the doorway, silently walking downstairs.
The next day, Snow White presented the painting to the brothers, shyly unraveling it at dinner. They all sat still, in shock and silence at the perfect miniatures of them in the painting. Presently, 7 began to clap, and they each followed, 35 whooping excitedly and 49 beaming at her in his usual manner. "What a beautiful rendition," said 42, lowering his spectacles to examine it closer. "We shall hang it above the fireplace," 49 announced happily, and 28 immediately walked off to build a frame for the work. Snow White blushed, her rosy cheeks making her look like a doll, "Do, do you really like it then?" she asked no one in particular. 7 jumped up and down, "Oh yes Miss Snow White, it's wonderful!"
The next morning, Snow White awoke to find the painting hanging up above the fireplace, and it looked as if it had always been there. 28 had made a beautiful mahogany frame, carved intricately with floral designs. It took her breath away at how beautiful the framework was, and how quickly he had done it. He must have stayed up all night!
She was in a good mood, and so after dusting a bit, Snow White decided to make some apple pie for the brothers. It was a treat that they always enjoyed. She had just begun to cut some green apples she had finished washing when a shadow fell over the window near the sink she was standing behind. "Good morning Snow White," said a kind voice.
Without lifting her head, Snow White replied, "Good morning to you, dear 21. Are you hungry?" It wasn't surprising that sometimes one of the dwarves walked back to the house to grab a snack. "No, no. I was wondering, could you do me a favor?" he sounded a bit shy now, and Snow White looked up at him, questioningly. "Of course. Anything you want," she said without hesitation. He suddenly looked her in the eyes, unafraid and almost begging, then he said casually, "Please, walk with me. Accompany me into the forest."
It never crossed her mind to question him, and so she said, "Alright," again without hesitation. She trusted him, he had always been so polite and gentle. She cleaned her hands on her apron and walked towards the door, hanging her apron on the hook near the end of the kitchen. He met her at the doorway, smiling softly, and she smiled back at him.
They walked in silence, though it was a comfortable silence. Snow White had never quite gone far from the cottage after deciding to stay. She had never known where she had come from, and the forest was unfamiliar to her, an alien world. They walked down the same path the other dwarves took to get to the mountain, but suddenly, 21 turned to walk down a hidden pathway, slightly illuminated by the thin foliage surrounding it. Snow White followed without question, glancing at the trees and flowers around her. The forest was not silent; it was very much alive with the busy chattering of birds and scurrying of little animals going about their day.
The entire time, 21 looked straight ahead of him, not daring to so much as glance in Snow White's direction. He was nervous and very shy. He knew she was next to him, behind him, near him. He could feel her slight presence and hear her soft footsteps trekking lightly over the beaten path they walked.
After a long while, they began to see a clearing ahead of them. It was very bright, and there was movement. "Here we are," 21 suddenly announced, "isn't it a sight?" Snow White murmured, "Hmm," and stared at the open meadow in front of them. It was filled with dozens of different wildflowers, mainly blue and white. She was dazzled by the array of butterflies fluttering about, and a soft breeze lifter her dark hair as she stepped forward a little. Suddenly, 21 pointed, "Sit there," he commanded, "Right there in the center." She obeyed and sat herself down as he stood where he was, watching her. She looked around a bit and said, "Are we waiting for something?"
"No, I just…wanted you to sit there," he answered.
"Why?" she asked suddenly, curious.
"Because you are the most beautiful woman I know, and this is the most beautiful place I know. I just wanted to see both of them together, and together it is perfect," he said softly.
"Are you happy?" she asked, looking at him calmly.
"Yes, very much so," he answered, smiling at her. He came and sat next to her in the grass. She looked at him and grinned shyly and he began to move closer. When his face was next to her ear he whispered, "Do you love me, Snow White?" as if he were telling her a secret. She closed her eyes and breathed sweetly. Then she moved away a bit, to look at him. "Yes, very much. I love you all, you are my family," and she gave him a bright smile, innocent in her youth.
21 was undeterred and said patiently, "Indeed, we each love you as well. Some love you as a mother, as a sister, and a daughter," he stated matter-of-factly. " What are we to you?" he suddenly asked. She gazed at the ground and said slowly, "I love you all as family, as friends." She paused for a moment and then said, "21, how do you love me?"
"Not as a mother, sister, daughter, or friend," he began, "I love you as you. I love Snow White. Do you love me as such?" and he stared into her dark eyes again, hunting for the answer as if he could read them in her gaze. She began twiddling a flower in her fingers, "I, I don't understand. I do not know how," she said, frowning. 21 sighed a bit and turned to look at the meadow, "No one does. It is not something you learn," then he turned to her, "You either feel it or you don't." She looked confused, her perfect eyebrows furrowing together. He grinned at her and said, "You are too young to know. Too pure. That is why I love you," and then he got up, "Let us return, Snow White." He reached out and she took his hand to help herself up. Then he said, "Everyday I will bring you here, to this very meadow, and everyday I will ask you the same question. When and if you say you love me, I will teach you more," and with that, he began walking towards the cottage, still holding her hand.
With her other free hand, Snow White grabbed her skirt and followed him silently.