I only recently learned about the comic series of Snow White that Disney had released in the weeks leading up to the 1937 release of the movie. I found the comic online and thought it was the absolute *cutest* thing. Snow White and her prince (I'm taking one of the more common names I've seen for him floating around – Florian) have such an adorable scene with the whole "Buckethead" thing. And it's interesting to see that Queen Gimhilde had a thing for the prince in the comics, so his love for Snow White added to her jealousy of her stepdaughter.

I was inspired by the comic, and wanted to explore the infamous "prince being captured and escaping the queen's dungeon" scene that was meant to be in the film, but scrapped because of (from what I've read) difficulty animating the prince.

(The comic was uploaded by wonderful filmic-light onto their blogspot website. The page/article the comic is on is titled "1937-38 Hank Porter Comic Strip")

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He hadn't meant to ride so close to the castle grounds. When traveling, Florian usually made an effort to avoid the homes of nobility. Being recognized and persuaded to stay for at least a day or two, so his hosts could show off their hospitality or worse, try to introduce their daughters to him, was not what he wanted when taking these trips. But for some reason, on this particular excursion he found himself wandering alarmingly near the grounds of Queen Grimhilde's castle.

He had never met the queen. His parents had some years ago, but Florian had been elsewhere at the time. His father had been polite enough while describing her, though it was clear he had not enjoyed the encounter. His mother, always more candid then her husband, was not as civil in her depiction of the queen, describing her as a patronizing woman who suffered from far too high opinion of herself. His parents' stories did not differ much from other tales he had heard of the queen. Not many seemed to enjoy her company, despite her supposed beauty.

Apparently, there was a princess living there too. If he remembered correctly she was not Grimhilde's birth daughter, though he lamented the poor fortune of anyone having to live with such a mother, blood or not. No one saw the Princess Snow White much, and as she had matured into her adolescent years she had completely disappeared from the public eye. There were rumors that she was dead, but no one could say for sure.

Florian's kingdom was not exceedingly far from Grimhilde's, but there had never been a need for him to visit. Now though, the shortest route to a town he was traveling to led right past Grimhilde's castle.

He supposed he could have made a bigger effort to avoid it. But after all the rumors he had heard, Florian could not deny that he was curious as to whether the talk surrounding Grimhilde and the princess was true. So when he realized that he had been riding closer to the castle grounds than planned, he didn't make an effort to change course. Maybe he would see something worthwhile.

With a pure blue sky above and the summer sun warming his back, he felt quite relaxed as he nudged his mare, Astor, along. As they neared the castle, Florian raised his gaze to study the wall barring his vision of what he assumed was the courtyard. Vines grew over the stones, snaking through cracks as they twisted over the centuries old barrier. The tops of trees inside the grounds could be seen, their branches blossoming with white and pale lilac flowers.

Florian stilled, tugging on Astor's reins as he strained to listen. Someone was singing. Though only a faint hum at first, the notes were rising in volume, ringing up into the early afternoon.

"I'm wishing…for the one I love…to find me…"

Florian tilted his head in interest. Who was it? He had never heard such a beautiful voice before. A bright purity rang with it, melodious with cheer and laughter. It was intoxicating to listen to.

Curiosity overcame sense, and Florian dismounted Astor. The mare snorted in confusion, stamping her hoof against the grass.

"Don't worry girl, I won't be long," reassured Florian. He patted Astor's mane. "But I've got to find out who that is." Turning to the wall, Florian grasped the vines and began to climb. It did not take him long to reach the top of the wall. He paused, peering cautiously into the courtyard below.

There was a well at the center of the courtyard. Surrounding it were various flowering trees, from which loose petals drifted down to the courtyard's stones. Near the wall Florian was on the stones led into a small garden. At the edge of the garden was a make-shift scarecrow. It was an ugly thing, made from two crossed broom handles and draped in rags. A wooden bucket had been placed over the top of the vertical handle; on its front, eyes and a smiling mouth had been painted. Florian only gave the scarecrow a passing glance, for it was the person standing in front of it that captured his attention.

A girl, maybe only a couple years younger than him, was curtsying to the scarecrow. She was the most beautiful person Florian had ever seen. Skin white as snow, ebony curls brushing the nape of her neck, and lips redder than the most perfect rose. She held herself gracefully, moving with a youthful elegance Florian was enchanted by. She wore a ragged working dress made of dull, earthy colors; the only colorful piece of clothing on her was a pale blue ribbon in her hair.

"It is charming of you, Prince Buckethead, to come all this way just to see me!" exclaimed the girl. She rose from her curtsy, giggling as she brushed a hand against the wooden rod meant to be the scarecrow's shoulders. "Why of course – I'd be delighted to go to the ball with you. So sweet of you to ask me!" She winked at the scarecrow, then raised her hand in a dramatic gesture. "We shall lead the grand march! I'm sure Queen Grimhilde wouldn't mind." There was a hint of sarcasm there, though her tone held no cruelness, only a sly teasing.

Florian could not help the grin spreading across his face. He had never seen such a girl before. Life radiated from her in a happy brilliance he wanted to drown in. He had to speak to her.

The girl twirled around, dancing over to the well to gaze inside it. "My, what a gorgeous gown!" she said, beaming at her reflection. "I do hope it will be alright for the ball." She glanced at her hands, turning them upwards to examine them. Dirt stained the pale skin, and a few blisters had formed on the edges of her palms, brought on by her daily chores. She frowned. "Perhaps I should wear gloves as well."

While the girl gazed into the well, Florian quietly dropped into the courtyard. He hurried to the scarecrow, hiding behind it as the girl approached.

"What do you think, Prince Buckethead?" she asked the scarecrow, tilting her head inquisitively. "Shall I wear gloves to the ball? Perhaps a pair made of silk, with lace trim. That would be quite elegant, don't you think?" She sighed, tugging at her patched skirt. "I'm sorry. I'm not very becoming for a princess. I must be quite the disappointing sight to you."

The words had spilled from Florian before he could stop them. "Disappointing? My lady, you are enchanting!"

The girl gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. "Prince…Buckethead?" She blinked and shook her head at the silliness of the notion. "I must have imagined it. Perhaps I should go inside and have some water…"

"Please, don't leave!" Florian pulled the bucket from the scarecrow, revealing himself behind it.

The girl gave a cry of fear and stumbled backwards. "Oh my! I…who…"

Florian quickly realized the stupidity of his brash actions. "I'm terribly sorry," he said quickly. He set the bucket down. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

The girl stared in shock. Then she turned and dashed towards the steps leading into the castle.

"Please, wait!" exclaimed Florian. He began to run after her but thought better of it, so as not to further alarm her. He stopped beside the well. "I mean you no harm!"

Halfway up the steps, the girl stopped. She turned, eyeing Florian suspiciously. "How did you get in here?" she asked.

Florian blushed in embarrassment. "I climbed the wall. I just…I had heard you singing, and I…I had to see to whom such a beautiful voice belonged."

The girl flushed at the compliment, but the distrust in her eyes did not wane.

"I suppose my tactic for introducing myself wasn't very well thought-out," admitted Florian with a grin. His brow furrowed in curiosity. "Who are you? Are you a maid in the castle?"

A flash of humor twinkled in the girl's eyes, but she did not confirm nor deny the guess.

Florian frowned, studying the girl. "No, I don't suppose you are. Something about you is distinctly noble. Or you are the most graceful maid I have ever met." He paused, eyes widening as realization dawned on him. "You…are you Snow White? The hidden princess?"

The girl was quiet. Her gaze flickered to a balcony above them, but it was empty, and she glanced back at him uncertainly. Slowly, her features relaxed. "I did not know people called me that," she said. "The hidden princess."

Snow White. She certainly was different than he had imagined. "It is only because no one has seen you in so long. Some believe you to be dead."

Snow White looked vaguely disturbed at that.

"I am glad you are not," said Florian earnestly. He frowned. "But why do you dress so? I mean no offense, but I would expect a princess to wear something not so…" He gestured to the patched dress, looking sheepish.

"I have better dresses," she admitted. "But my daily duties require more…suitable attire for the tasks."

"What duties?"

"Oh," Snow White waved her hand in the air. "Little things. Sweeping, washing the courtyard steps, hemming, dusting."

Florian stared. "But you're a princess! Why would you…" His words trailed off, and anger filtered into tone. "This is the queen's doing, isn't it?"

Snow White did not answer, but the trepidation in her eyes was confirmation enough.

Florian's hands tightened into fists. "She is forcing you to do these things? What else has she done to you?"

"She does not harm me, if that is your concern," said Snow White. She smiled sadly. "It matters not. I am not permitted to leave the castle grounds, so the chores give me something to do. Though I do prefer the duties that need to be done outside. The sunshine and fresh air are so welcoming after being inside the dreary chambers of the castle."

"But I don't understand," pressed Florian. "Why does she do this? Surely you must know how odd this is for her to ask of you."

Snow White shrugged. "Whatever her reasoning, she will not explain it to me. But she provides for me, so I try not to anger her with questions." She tapped a finger against the side of her chin. "Now you must explain yourself. Who are you? A man who climbs castle walls with such frivolous motivations must be interesting indeed." She smiled teasingly. "Or mad."

Though still upset by Snow White's treatment, Florian could not help grinning at the playful words. "My father certainly would think so. But I assure you, it is not a common habit of mine." He swept his hat from his head, pressing it to his chest as he bowed. "I am Florian."

Snow White studied him curiously. "Could you be the same Florian as the prince from our neighboring kingdom? If not, then you are an exceptionally well-dressed peasant."

Florian cringed. He had been hoping…that what? A princess would not know the names of nearby nobility? It was an expected part of their education. He sighed, wishing he had been able to keep his royal identity secret for a bit longer, if only so she would continue to talk to him as freely as she had been. "I suppose I should have dressed less conspicuously," he admitted with a smile. "But I would rather you not address me as prince at all. Or if you do, perhaps you would prefer to call me Prince Buckethead?"

Snow White laughed. "Perhaps not the most flattering nickname. But I suppose there is a certain charm to it."

Florian was relieved, as Snow White did not seem to care much that he was a prince. Maybe when one who is a princess spends the days scrubbing castle steps, the novelty of royalty wears off fairly quickly. He chuckled at her joke, then glanced up at the balcony above them. He thought he had seen the curtains in the doorway flutter, as though someone had just slipped out of sight. But there was no one there now. He shrugged and returned his attention to Snow White.

Snow White had followed Florian's gaze, and she continued to stare at the balcony with unease. She looked at Florian, the brightness in her eyes gone. "You should go."

Florian frowned. "Why?"

Snow White twisted her hands nervously. "I…I still have much to do…the chores…and the queen…she…" The words trailed off. "Please, just go."

Florian pressed his lips together, disturbed by the change in Snow White's demeanor. Something was very wrong with this place. Leaving Snow White here felt like a mistake. "Are you sure?"

"Please," repeated Snow White, the word tight with tension.

Florian ran his fingers over the brim of his hat. "Very well," he said slowly. "If you wish me to leave, I shall. But if I were to call upon you in a less…intrusive manner, would the queen allow me to visit? Surely your chores do not take up the entirety of the day."

Snow White seemed taken aback by the suggestion. "I…I do not think so. No, you had better go."

Florian's frown deepened at Snow White's behavior. "Snow White," he said, his voice low. "Are you in danger here?"

Snow White's eyebrows twitched together, as though she had not considered such a notion before. "No, of course not," she said hesitantly. "But I fear for you if my stepmother were to see you here. You must go."

Fine. He would leave, only because she wanted him to do so. But he had every intention of returning. "Alright," he said. "I'll go." He stepped forward and reached out, taking Snow White's hand. Gently, he pressed a kiss to it. "But I promise that we shall meet again, fair princess."

Snow White blushed, her lips curving into a shy smile.

Florian gave her one last bow, then placed his hat on his head and sprinted back to the wall. He climbed it with ease, pausing at the top to look back at Snow White. She was still standing on the steps, and when their gazes locked she gave him a small wave. He returned the gesture and, grinning, dropped back onto the other side.

Astor neighed in surprise at his sudden appearance, though when she recognized Florian she moved forward to nuzzle her nose against his cheek. Florian chuckled, stroking her. "Oh Astor, she is the most wonderful person I've ever met!" He frowned. "But there is something unsettling about the whole affair between her and her stepmother. I must see Snow White again. Certainly the queen would allow a neighboring prince to visit…but will she permit me to see Snow White?" He ran a finger over his chin as he thought. "Perhaps I should tell father about this. He might have a better chance at persuading the queen than me."

The sound of heavy footsteps caught Florian's attention, and he spun around to see five castle guards approaching him.

"Afternoon," greeted Florian. Unease pricked the edges of his nerves, and he stepped closer to Astor to take hold of her bridle. "May I be of assistance to you?"

"The queen has ordered your arrest," the leading guard said shortly. He drew his sword and pointed it at Florian.

Florian stiffened. "Pardon me?"

The guard's hard expression did not change. "Come quietly, and we will not harm you."

"What charges have I been accused of?"

"Trespassing and assaulting the princess."

Florian's mouth dropped open. "Assaulting the…?" he sputtered. "That is a lie!"

"You wish to defy the queen?" threatened the guard.

"She is not my queen," snarled Florian.

The remaining guards drew their swords.

"Do not make us use unnecessary force," the leader warned.

Florian glanced at Astor's saddle, from which hung his sheathed sword. He only had his dagger on him, and he doubted he'd reach it in time before being attacked by the guard closest to him. "There has been a mistake," he said. "I am Prince Florian. Queen Grimhilde is acquainted with my parents. I am simply traveling through your kingdom."

"Nevertheless, the queen will speak with you," said the guard. He gestured with his sword. "Come. She will not be kept waiting."

Florian set his jaw in frustration. It seemed that reasoning with the queen was his only option at the moment. Unhooking his hand from Astor's bridle, he walked forward. The lead guard snatched out his hand, grabbing Florian's arm and spinning him about. Astor rushed forward angrily, but two of the guards lunged for her reins to hold her back. Florian's arms were wrenched behind him, and the next moment cold shackles were snapped around his wrists.

"Hey!" exclaimed Florian. He twisted in the guard's grip, but the guard only tightened his hands in warning. Without another word, the guards dragged him away, leaving Astor standing alone outside the castle walls.