Also, have Archive Of Our Own now. I'm AllTheNamesIWantedWereUsed
Edmond has done much dirty work in preparing for his revenge. Being a simple wine steward is a life of luxury compared to some of the things he's done.
He's on his way to the cellar to fetch wine for Snow White and Prince Charming, mentally preparing himself for a strategy on how to slip the Agrabah viper's venom into the prince and princess's drinks.
Then Charlotte, Snow White's handmaiden, comes round the corner, and it's a miracle he doesn't knock her over.
They both stop short of running into each other just outside the kitchens, the smell of the next meal cooking.
Snow White and Prince Charming had better enjoy their last suppers.
It's hard to focus on that thought, though, because a rather flustered looking Charlotte stumbles, and the only thing keeping her from meeting the stone floor is his arms, instinctively wrapping around her and settling her upright.
"Are you alright?" he asks.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you-"
"My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you," he says, bowing slightly.
"No, no, it's fine, really," she assures him, a tinge of pink blooming in her cheeks. He wonders if anyone has ever treated her with this kind of respect, bowing as if she is royalty.
Awkwardly, he nods, and begins to be on his way, when she lays a hand on his arm.
"I never mentioned...I'm sorry about your village," she says softly.
He remembers now, he has a mission, and a part to play. He cannot disappoint the Queen if he wants his revenge.
"I've lost others before," he says quietly. "Loss is not new to me."
That definitely is not what he should have said. He should have weaved a web of lies, not admitted a small but painful truth.
Charlotte's expression grows sympathetic, and her fingers reach up to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face, her fingertips skimming the raised skin of the scar above his eyebrow, her other soft hand taking his burned one.
Her gaze hesitantly meets his, and once more, he is captivated by her eyes, the light and purity within them.
She is the girl with the golden sun in her hair and the silver, mysterious moon in her eyes.
Something passes between them a sort of quiet, unspoken moment of comfort.
It's unceremoniously interrupted as a servant in the nearby kitchen drops a platter, and the cacophony of metal snaps them both out of their reverie.
Her fingers pull back, and he's disappointed by the loss of warmth.
"Take care, Edmond," she murmurs in her dulcet tones, then presses a kiss to his cheek, her lips gentle and warm, before sweeping by him.
He can't help but look back at her, only to see that she too is glancing over her shoulder.
He watches her hurry away for a moment, the feel of her lips on his cheek still tingling on his skin.
He swallows hard and continues on his way, albeit with much less enthusiasm.
Edmond wonders if Charlotte will grieve for Snow White once she has fallen to the poison, and he is also curious as to what will happen to the young handmaiden once her employers are gone and dearly departed.
The weight of the vial filled with venom seems heavier as he weaves through the castle and down into the wine cellar.
He can't help but question what he is about to do.
He has never questioned himself, not like this.
It must've been that kiss.