So this is what I work on when I'm not properly inspired to write true fanfiction. I actually have a good bit written, but I'm posting it here piece by piece in hopes that I'll keep a buffer of written stuff. I know there're some plot inconsistencies, and I'm working on it. But if you see any, please let me know!
It's slash, and the pairing(s) are pretty easy to figure out. Also, it's not "shoutacon" at all. I realize the prince Snow White is a little kid in this part, but he will not be receiving any adult kisses until he is at least 17 (the age of consent where I live, by the way...but I'm not sure if he's actually gonna have sex in the fic or not...).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my story of Snow White, Slashed! I tried to base it more on Grimm than on Disney, by the way. If you haven't read the Grimm version, I highly recommend it. The only creepy part is that Snow White really is 7 when the story starts...I just imagine that a lot of years passed with the dwarves and when she was sleeping.
Finnian tried very hard not to giggle from his hiding place in the palace garden. For an almost-seven year old, his efforts were quite impressive. However, he didn't stand a chance of hiding from Wylie, who, at the age of sixteen, was well on his way to becoming one of the King's huntsmen.
"Gotcha!" Wylie tickled Finnian's ribs, making him double over with laughter.
"Wylie! Stop it, I can't," the rest of his sentence was interrupted with his own laughter.
He let out a delighted shriek as Wylie easily hefted him up by his pale ankles, swinging him back and forth, knowing that he could never drop the tiny prince.
All playfulness vanished the instant Wylie caught sight of the perfect golden coif of the queen approaching. He grabbed Finnian around the waist, set him gently behind a rosebush, and hid the bush from the queen as she passed.
"Majesty," he murmured, sweeping a common bow. He stole a glance at her through his messy chestnut curls. She barely nodded at him as she passed, intent only on the mirror in her hand. Wylie thought she was the most horrible woman he'd ever seen, despite how beautiful she was. The only thing that could hold her attention was her own reflection; all else, including husband and step-son, were for amusing her in the moments she found herself between mirrors.
Once she was out of hearing-range, he turned to Finnian. A frown made its way to Wylie's face when he saw how terrified his tiny companion was. Finnian's lips trembled the smallest amount, brown eyes large and overly moist, as he stared into the garden path the queen disappeared down.
Wylie dropped to his knee, not caring how dirty the garden soil made his pants, and wrapped Finnian into a tight hug. He was glad Finnian couldn't see the anger in his face. No one should make such a sweet boy so scared.
"Wylie," Finnian began, "What was my mother like?" The only time Finnian asked about his mother was after seeing the queen.
"She was the most amazing woman I've ever seen," Wylie told him warmly. "Her eyes were the blue of the dark part of the sky at sunset. Even though her voice was soft, every time she spoke everyone would be quiet so they could hear her, it was so beautiful. And she wanted more than anything to have a baby just like you—you were the answer to her deepest wish."
"Really?" Finnian always doubted that.
"Really. Everyone says so. Just ask your Papa." Wylie smoothed the blue-black hair on Finnian's head. He wasn't exactly happy with the King, either. The man did tell Finnian that he loved him, but he was constantly making and breaking promises to spend time with him.
"Your highness! Prince Finnian! Where are you?" A round middle-aged woman yelled from the entrance to the garden.
"You'd better go, or your nurse will be angry with you."
"I know," Finnian drew his brows together in an adult expression that looked ridiculous on the face of a child. "Will you come to my party tomorrow?"
"Don't you want to play with friends your own age tomorrow? Surely you don't want a hunter twice your age there."
"I don't care about them," Finnian said frankly, "I just care about you. Please come?"
"I'll be there no matter what," Wylie assured him. He knew he'd feel horribly out of place, but he wasn't going to deny the prince his birthday wish.
The smile Finnian gave him warmed his heart pleasantly. Finnian made an impatient motion for Wylie to bend down and, when he did so, planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you Wylie. I look forward to seeing you." Pale cheeks flushed bright pink.
Then Finnian ran to meet his nurse, who was beginning to sound upset with him.
Wylie smiled to himself before trekking the opposite direction, towards the forest where he lived with his uncle and teacher.
"Uncle! I'm back," Wylie yelled as he opened the door, kicking off his boots as he did so.
"'Bout time, brat," a forty-something grouched from the main room, sharpening his favorite knife.
Garret had been hunting since he was old enough to hold a bow. He'd joined the King's hunters at a young age and had long been a favorite of His Majesty's. His gray eyes, even now, with wrinkles forming at their corners, could still see movement beyond what should be possible and tell what creature happened to be moving there. Wylie was his sister's son, her third, and when she couldn't afford to feed him, Garret had taken the boy in.
He often acted like Wylie was a burden, but lately he forgot how he managed without the teen there to help him. Nimble fingers and quick feet often made themselves useful, especially after several hours in the woods when Garret's own fingers and feet weren't wanting to cooperate. It wouldn't be long before Wylie would be recognized by the King. Garret wanted to be jealous, but he couldn't manage it over the pride he felt.
The two had dinner in a comfortable quiet, with no need for conversation between them. When they finished, Wylie took the dishes to wash. He didn't mind, really, washing the dishes and keeping the house clean. They were actions of gratitude, a way for him to express it without the words that would just embarrass his kind uncle.
"Tomorrow I'm going into the forest with the King. Will you join us?" He hoped that Wylie would catch the King's eye soon, so that he didn't have to worry about the boy when he stopped being able to hunt.
Wylie looked up quickly, surprise quickly followed by anger. Garret raised an eyebrow at his reaction.
"The King hunts tomorrow? But it's Prince Finnian's birthday! The prince will be so disappointed." He scrubbed with angry energy, gray eyes, much like his uncle's, narrowed in his tanned face.
"Ah," Garret knew Wylie had a soft spot for the young prince, "I'll remind the king before we set out, then. Perhaps he'll delay the hunt." They both knew that was unlikely, considering how much he enjoyed hunting.
Wisely, Wylie refrained from saying anything negative about their king. Both thought that the man should pay more attention to his family than he did, but to say something derogatory was treason. Instead of focusing on his disappointment in his ruler, Wylie wondered if he had anything suitable to wear to a prince's birthday party.