After Snow White became queen, peace fell over the land. Prosperity swept over the cities and countryside, fed children played in the courtyards, crops grew, artisans got their due for everyone was willing to pay a coin or two for the finer things in life now that there was wealth and peace in the land. There were always things to do and problems to take care of and foreign envoys to entertain, but in general, the land lived peacefully and happily.

Snow always had the affairs of the State to take care of, even when all the wrongs had been righted and settled, she was busy making improvements. She was the untouchable queen, the perfect beauty. In a way she was almost too perfect. Eric – it was becoming harder and harder to think of himself otherwise – couldn't say if he was awed or annoyed by her, or both at the same time. She had made him her Lord of the Peace, which meant that he got to roam the lands and settle any uprisings, of which there were almost none, and put down outlaws and poachers. There was nothing glamorous about this job and the title felt inflated, but it was better than marching in parades.

That's what William was doing. He was Lord Commander of the Battle Forces and looked quite dashing in parade cloak and shinning armor. At first, Eric was resentful – perhaps jealous – that William was put into such a shinning post while he seemed to only get the benefit of a lofty title. Snow seemed to favor William, and that was unpleasant. But in the end, Snow had been right once again. He was much better suited for the forest and the wild fight than for a fancy parade and he was doing a lot more practical good than William, at least in this time of peace.

For many years, since Sarah died, he had been called The Huntsman. It got to the point that he started thinking of himself by that title as well. It was easier, almost, to lose all attachment to life and feeling. Existing was easier than living. Living required feeling and reflecting and he did not want to do any of that. Now, he seemed to have a new purpose in life and slowly his name began to return to his conscious; he began to grasp once more who he was and what it was like to live. Yet, few people called him by name. To most he was either still The Huntsman or My Lord or Lord of the Peace. Snow would sometimes slip into using his name during their more private moments but these were few and far between. She was always busy and she wanted to dedicate her life to her people and to ruling. She took no lovers, as far as he knew, not even William and she sought friendship and council more than love.

The one person who called him Eric consistently was William. The boy could be formal when need be but he did not see it necessary when dealing "with an old comrade in arms" as he called it. William had felt the distancing from Snow as well and he had, at first, blamed Eric for it. Yet, he soon realized that that blame was misplaced. After that, he was warm and friendly, almost affectionate. Eric's first instinct was to brush the boy off, but he needed stable ground in this new life of his. Snow was unattainable and akin to a goddess. She was far above him. And while he was plenty glad to serve her, there was something rewarding and basically human in having a lover who was flesh and blood and warmth.

It didn't happen all at once. At first it was glances and cordial conversation. Then it was drinks and smiles and more personal conversations. Snow had made him feel again but he was still half frozen. It was William who had melted the rest, slithering in like a thin tongue of flame. William made him laugh and William would train with him in the courtyard outside the armory. They put aside their pride and their contempt for long enough to fight that final battle against the old queen and then long enough to forge a friendship. It was too late to build walls after that.

Adrenaline did the rest. Riding and fencing mixed with heat and bright sun broke their barriers. They found themselves, like animals, among the bushes and in the lakes. They never spoke of it, it simply happened. It was so natural that it needed no words to be described or understood. What was there to say? Where they living a dream of Snow White through each other? Unlikely, though she was the one who had brought them together. It was drink and high blood and instinct and sex. William was always soft and charming, pliable and easy-going. Eric found himself enraptured by the feeling of owning and belonging, of his name coming off of William's lips again and again and his own ecstasy as he came with the boy beneath him.

Then, William left for a skirmish at the boarder and was wounded in battle. Eric would never forget the slow hours of his gallop to the battle camp. He should have been there, but he was not part of the outbound troops and Snow had wanted to keep him close with the rest of the household guard. Just in case. When the news of William had come in, even she could not make him stay. He rode at once and did not stop until he reached the camp, his heart pounding in his ears the entire time.

He knew the moment he saw William in one of the medical tents. He had bandages tied criss-cross over his chest and he was pale, but it looked like he would be alright. Eric reached out and swept strands of soft hair from William's face. The boy blinked slowly up at him and attempted a smile. That was the final straw, the final blow to his walls. Even if he tried, Eric could not deny that he loved the boy. With no explanation, with no reason, it simply was.

"You didn't have to come," William said quietly, blinking against the light. "I sent envoys to inform the Queen of all the news."

"She didn't send me. I came myself."

"There's no more battle to fight." The boy closed his eyes and Eric smirked at him fondly.

"I didn't come to fight, Will. I came to take you home."

That was as close to 'I love you' as he could get. For the moment.

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