Dear Mr Gandalf

I understand you are seeking an adventurer for a trip with some dwarves. I feel I am uniquely placed to assist you being as how for many years I lived with seven of the little blighters. It's a long story but let's just say I had family problems and had to move out of my childhood home.

I take it you are an equal opportunities employer and don't object to a female adventurer? I think you would find it has its advantages particularly if you want your food options to consist of more than red meat, red meat and more red meat (on the bone). It is possible to domesticate dwarves but it takes a lot of hard work ( believe me I know) Soap and water were an alien concept to my lot and that wasn't the worst of it by any means. It seems that I escaped one obsessive compulsive person, (my stepmother had a thing about mirrors), to find I was sharing a house with 7 who had a thing about gold.

Then there was the singing. Take my advice and get a set of earplugs, they only seem to know two songs. There's the Hiho one every day for years and then to break the monotony occasionally you get the silly song, which is extremely silly during which they attempt to yodel. Now dwarves, as you are aware, spend most of their time underground; so why are they adopting a singing style practiced by people who make chocolate and spend most of their time up bloody mountains?

By the way I notice you are attempting to take 13 of them with you. It was almost impossible to remember the names of all 7 so how do you expect to manage that lot?

This is despite the fact that my motley crew had names that matched some personality trait, Grumpy, Dopey Bashful etc ...except for Doc - never did figure that one out or the giant rabbit that appeared from time to time eating a carrot who always asked him what was up.

Can you imagine the confusion in our cottage in the morning when one of us said "someone's woke up grumpy" we never knew if they were talking about him or just our general mood. What are your lot called? I hope it's not based on appearance otherwise you have 13 all called beardy – not very handy.

Anyway I suppose I should tell you more about me. My appearance is somewhat unusual due to my mother's rather odd ideas about beauty. My skin is white, not just pale, I mean white as in the colour of snow before it gets turned to brown slush. My hair is black, proper raven black and my lips without the aid of lippy are blood red. In short I look like a Goth who has gone to extremes. I am of royal blood but these days I don't use my title much but it's useful for getting a table in restaurants. My ex husband is still a king and he and I have joint custody of the children. I divorced him when I found out about his affairs. There was the little blond with a thing for unsuitable footwear (glass slippers I ask you!) and then that princess with severe narcolepsy. He told me she could only be woken up by a kiss from a handsome prince but I'm not buying it.

As to qualifications. I can get birds and various wild animals to help me around the house although it helps if they are house trained otherwise you end up with more mess than you started with. I am difficult to kill having survived various murder attempts and I have learned from bitter experience to be wary of little old ladies attempting to sell me things. So far I have escaped being suffocated by my corset being pulled too tight, a poisoned comb and a very cunningly poisoned apple. I find I have gone off that fruit ever since.

By the way I think you should be warned that I have heard there is a sickeningly cute little girl with a dog accompanied by a scarecrow, a tin man and a lion looking for a wizard. I should lie low for a while if I were you.

Ps Do not take on a mouse as an apprentice or you will come home to find your abode awash with water.

Yours sincerely

S White (princess)