Warnings: Femmeslash. Major big spoilers.
Pairing: Robber Girl/Gerda
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Snow Queen the tale is by Hans Christian Andersen. Snow Queen the tv-movie is by Hallmark.
Notes: The Robber Girl is ranting to herself, hence the disjointed thoughts.
She Took Me By Surprise
by Annie D
the_80s_chick@lycos.com
There isn't anyone I respect more than my mother, who is, without a doubt, the most intelligent person I know. She always has these words of wisdom, although not in a "fortune cookie" sort of way, because she's not vague or subject to misinterpretation because my mother always gets straight to the point. Take for example these various little one-sentence lessons she's passed on to me throughout the years. "Never go to sleep without a knife under your pillow." This has saved my life quite a number of times. "Stay away from the northern mountains." Like, duh, that white witchy lady with delusions of grandeur lives there. "The Summer Princess is evil." Huh. Do I need to explain this?
But the one lesson that I draw from the most is, "If you ever see anything you want, just take it."
This sentence describes my life, actually. I am the Robber Girl, second-in-command of the Autumn Gypsies, unrivalled by knife or skill or spunk, feared by anyone with half a brain and/or half a bag of coins who dares venture through my woods (armed or unarmed, doesn't really matter). If I see something I want, I just take it. It's not like I actually have to actively think about it or anything. It's just what I do.
So anyway, my life until a point had been that simple. See something I want? Take it. No fuss, no muss.
Then came Gerda.
Admittedly, the first time I laid eyes on Gerda, I didn't see her. Well of course I saw her, seeing that I was the one who ambushed her just as she was fumbling her way out of the mudbank, but I didn't see her. All I saw at the time was a girl wearing a gown.
It was one of those hideous pink-purple colours that can't quite decide how yucky a shade they are because they want to confuse whoever's stupid enough to buy such a piece of clothing. And they had these awful frills and flowery bits attached – I remember there was a pink-purple-whatever flower thingee in her hair too, though it only made her hair look like it ought to be a table centrepiece or something. I mean, that outfit was just BAD. Like, Summer Princess BAD. And like all the Summer Princess outfits, it made it impossible for its wearer to make any decent running time, which was why it truck me as hilarious that that particular wearer was trying to run in it.
Jumping her was way too easy, and she fell like twig just as I had suspected her to at the time. Summer Princess prize to Autumn Gypsy fodder just by crossing a river.
Well, anyway, the first time I really saw Gerda was after she changed out of that horrible outfit. I had given her some dirty servants' clothes I'd stolen off a merchant while she gave the pink-purple-whatever outfit to Michel, who immediately draped it over himself (that guy has issues, I tell you). My men weren't even looking at her, of course, they were too busy being drunken gypsies. Lucky thing, too.
Gerda was – is beautiful. I didn't realise it at the time, but the reason her beauty shone when she was in rags instead of the silly gown was because she's an autumn beauty, a wild beauty. If it weren't for her slightly fairer skin, she could have easily passed for a gypsy goddess. Without the fake trappings holding her back, she was… was…
Her eyes – burning sizzling capturing – her hair – restless free tumbling – her mouth – plush pert alluring – her skin – warm silken enticing –
Ahem. Point, she's beautiful.
I've seen loads of beautiful people in my time. Robbed loads of them, too. Most of them from the Summer Princess' kingdom or there whereabouts, but none of them remarkable. Gerda was not like them. Not like them at all. She had a damn brain for one thing. Guts, for another. And courage. And inner strength. And… and… and… She wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. In fact, the burn of her eyes was one I could recognise because I saw it in the mirror every day. Kindred spirit!
The realisation must have smacked me upside the head around the time my mother was circling her while doing that "entertain me, prey, or I'll eat you up" (quite literally, but that's my mom for you). Maybe it was the heat of late evening fires, or the heavy smell of moonshine and incense in the air, or the way her eyelashes fluttered when she finally realised that my mother would never let her leave camp alive.
So I staked my claim. Beat up some of my own men to get the point across, too. Hey, I'm the Robber Girl. I get what I goddamn want!
Yeah, I want Gerda. Note usage of present tense.
I guess it never occurred to me that the pull of her outside agenda would be so damn strong. It never crossed my mind that Gerda could so easily turn away from I'd offered her. Her betrayal hurt not because turned me down, but because she turned me down after I gave her what I did.
I'd taken things and possessions with finger-click ease throughout my entire life, but I'd never once assumed that that it would be just as easy to take a person. Especially not someone like Gerda, who burned with an ill-concealed fire that I doubt even I would be able to tame. So I opened myself to her. It was so obvious that she understood the pain and loneliness I kept close to my heart, because I saw it in her eyes, and there was no fricking way she could have hid that from me. I told her so, and she didn't deny it.
I offered her… everything. Everything I had, everything I was. I told her about my life, about what it meant to be the daughter of the Autumn Gypsy. How it was like to grow up alone and among people who always looked at you a certain way because of who your parent was. How I could feel the emptiness crushing me from the inside out because everyone judged me on face value. How I hated myself and loved myself and hated my mother and loved my mother and hated my life and loved my life. And she understood. She just looked at me, and though she didn't say anything, I swear that she could see the darkness of my life reflected in her own.
That one look was all it took, really. I held her to me and in that moment I just decided that Gerda would be part of me. I'd finally found the one who could make the madness go away. She just held on to me, and we fell asleep like that. Sorry, I fell asleep like that.
I had never hated anyone more than I hated Gerda the moment I woke up and found my bed empty.
Those few days I soaked myself in the betrayal, condemning Gerda and my mother and myself. I don't really remember much of what happened in that time, but it must've involved quite a bit of blood and savage robberies, although I can't be too sure. No one will tell me.
What I do remember of that time were the random moments when I'd run to Gerda's cell and spit at her.
"Hate you, Gerda. You betrayed me. Betrayed ME! I trusted you! Do you have any idea how many people I've allowed myself to trust?!"
And she'd look up at me. Sometimes in anger, sometimes in sorrow. I could take the anger, but not the sadness, because every time she looked at me that way I'd get so scared that I might do something stupid that I wouldn't be able to take back.
I knew she understood the depth of her betrayal to me, but I couldn't figure why she'd done it anyway. Why why dammit all to hell why? What could possibly be so damn important that she'd risk everything – her life and her sanity – for it? She must've gone through the Spring Gardener and the Summer Princess on whatever journey she was on, and that takes nerves of bloody steel.
It was a while before I finally actually got around to asking her.
Huh. It was love. Love was worth risking everything. A guy, to be specific. Well, yeah, sure, that made it all alright then. Not.
My mother is still convinced that I let Gerda escape, although I keep telling her otherwise. Why would I do something as stupid as that? A few more months of living in the cell would have broken her down eventually, and then she'd willing turn to my leash.
Who the hell am I kidding? I want Gerda to be burning and defiant, not docile and stupid. She wouldn't be Gerda if she wasn't be able to turn to look me straight in the eye without a hint of fear and then send me reeling with her right hook. (Although, officially, that never happened. The Robber Girl has never been hit by anyone, and will continue to have an untainted record.)
After Gerda left us (me) I spent day and night praying to whatever gods gypsies believe in that she'd defeat the Snow Queen. My mother told me it would be impossible for a common girl to stand up against the Winter, but Gerda's no common girl. She's Gerda.
And Gerda opened a major can of whoop-ass and took down the Snow Queen a few notches. Yay! She returned to her village safe and sound. Yay! And took her boyfriend back with her. Err, yay? NOT!
Love made her betray me? I can believe that. I can believe that Gerda'd love someone so much she'd sacrifice everything to hold onto that love. She's that passionate. What I don't believe is that that boy would be able to return such love in equal strength. It's laughable, really. She stood up to Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. She defied death more times to count. She recovered from insanity three times. She summoned actual magic most mortals haven't been able to tap into for centuries. The boy? He left her a note. Pa-the-tic. He so does not deserve her.
Am I being presumptuous when I say that I think that I do? Maybe. But Gerda needs to know exactly what she turned down, so she can compare it against what she fought for. She needs to know before she can make a true decision. I can love you, Gerda, but you just never gave me a chance to show you how much. Tell me, does that boy understand even half of what you're capable of? We are children of the mage, Gerda. You could never be happy with a mortal boy. You'd think your mother's death would be hint, unless she never told you the truth. Hmm, come to think of it, I bet she didn't. That would explain a lot.
Hoo – I need to shake myself out of going through all these thoughts if I'm to focus on what I'm about to do.
Oh. Gerda's more beautiful than ever. I'd known she'd be, but the reality sweeps me away all the same. Even if she's wearing a stupid-ass white outfit that spells a big flashing T-A-C-K-Y. Erg. It's almost as bad as the pink-purple-whatever gown, but this one's really pushing the limit because it's got three times the lace. Despite all that nonsense, Gerda's beauty shines perfect and flawless, just as I remember.
I'm crouched here between leaves and dirt, and there's twigs in my hair and pebbles down my shirt, but I'm the happiest I've been in months. All this just by setting eyes on Gerda.
"If you ever see anything you want, just take it."
Well, mother, I see something I want, and I'm sure gonna take it, or my name's not the Robber Girl.
I turn to my men. "Ready, boys? We've got a wedding to crash."
FIN