iv.

She waits five days for him. He told her to only wait three, but she can't help it. She stays closer to their campsite, even when it rains. She climbs into a tree and huddles there, wondering why he isn't back yet. Though she's deep in the forest, it should have taken him no more than two days to go to the castle and come back to her.

Madge remembers he never promised her that he would, before promptly pushing that thought away. She knows he would come back for her.

She holds out a couple extra days because she knows he wouldn't abandon her there, that he would do whatever he could to come back to her—for him not to return means the worst. Madge lets herself cry that night in a way she hadn't before; she cried for her parents, the villagers, her kingdom, and for Gale.

It's strange, she thinks, as she goes deeper into the woods, how even more lost she is now without him. She's been used to being on her own, mentally, emotionally, and physically, since her parents died, but in the 24 hours when she was with Gale, hopes and dreams she never thought she'd have again built themselves up. But now she's alone again… and it's scary to think how dependent she became upon him, so quickly.

I have to be strong, she tells herself as rain starts to fall again. This is clearly how it's going to be.

It's hard to keep telling herself that when the rain seems to get stronger. Even worse, there's thunder and she sees a strike of lightning in the distance. It scares her off from climbing any trees, so she quickly becomes soaked to the bone.

The lightning strikes again, and Madge stops, perplexed. Lightning isn't supposed to strike in the same place twice… and yet, from what she can see, it did just that.

As much as she knows that she should stay away, something propels her forward towards where the lightning struck, and after almost mechanically following it, Madge decides not to resist. She can feel her Magic guiding her there, and yes, it makes her heart ache a little bit, remembering her Magic's reaction to Gale, but maybe, if her Magic is really coming back, she can figure out a way to find him.

By the time Madge stumbles out of the forest into what appears to be a small clearing, she's exhausted. She can't remember the last time she ate, she hasn't slept properly since Gale left, and she's completely soaked. Using her Magic, even just a little bit, has drained her, and she wonders when she sees the charming thatched cottage if it's a dream.

Sobbing, she drags herself to the door and knocks, fainting just as the door opens and she can see golden light flooding in from the figure behind it.

000

Alma's eyes sparkle with glee as she takes in the heart presented to her. "It's a gorgeous red color," she breathes, bloodlust in her eyes as she takes the heart Gale presents to her with reverence.

Gale holds himself very still, trying not to make eye contact. He isn't sure what, exactly, Magic entails, but he really hopes it's not reading minds. He tries to keep his mind blank; he tries not to recall Madge's face.

"Tell me, Huntsman," Alma says, taking the heart and placing it in a small, wooden box. "How did you kill her?"

Sticking to as close to the truth as possible is best, Gale thinks. "I shot her with an arrow," he says, trying not to recall the doe who he shot instead.

Alma steps closer to Gale, her eyes taking on a predatory gleam. "Was it difficult for you?" She purrs, stepping delicately behind Gale. She runs her fingers lightly across the backs of his shoulders. "Did you think her beautiful?"

For a brief moment, Gale indulges in the question, thinks of curling gold hair, glinting in the morning sun; bright blue eyes that twinkle when she laughs; and pink cheeks flushed from the campfire. "She was as you said," he replies dully, keeping his voice flat.

"You're enchanted with her," Alma accuses calmly, pivoting in front of him suddenly. Her eyes—cat-like—bore into his with a fierce intensity. "Aren't you? She's more beautiful than I am, isn't she? More powerful?"

Gale quirks an eyebrow at her coolly. "I'll admit she was beautiful," he says, "but she's certainly not more powerful than you now, is she?"

Alma gives him a pleased smile. "You would make a fantastic noble," she praises, "you certainly understand how to play the game, don't you?"

"I'm not a man for games, Your Majesty," Gale says politely. "I'm just a simple huntsman."

Alma gives him an appraising glance. "Simple, perhaps," she says, "but certainly something to look at."

Gale stiffens. He's encountered some women before—women who have looked at him like how the queen is now. They've always made him uncomfortable though—like the prey he hunts. It's part of the reason why he prefers the forest, why he stays away from people. They tend to play games he has no interest in playing.

Perhaps that's why he reacted so strongly to Madge—she had no pretenses, no hopes, seemingly no fears. She was raw—she had grown up in a dungeon with only her own wits about her and no training in political intrigue. She's only herself, and to him that's the most appealing thing of all.

"Have I embarrassed you, Huntsman?" She says, amused. "I forget how young you were when you were separated by your family, how little you've been around people since."

Gale's fists curl. His family. How had he forgotten? The very family she had killed, mercilessly, years before. He knows he should keep silent, but he can't. Since his family was killed there's been a fire in his veins, a fire that started with them but grows within him, and he can't forget them. He can't keep quiet, he can't keep letting himself get played like this.

A small part of him thinks of Madge, thinks of her waiting for him, but he can't stop, he's burning, he feels his cheeks flush and he snaps, "Perhaps it wouldn't have been that way if you hadn't have burned them to death years ago."

Alma tenses, her shoulders arching like a cat's. "What was that, Huntsman?" She says calmly. Too calmly. "What, exactly, are you accusing me of?"

"You say you act for the good of the people," Gale says, chin out proudly, back straight and proud. "But you're a tyrant. A monster. You want nothing but blind adoration and complete submission by your people. You don't want to do right by anyone but yourself."

"You better be careful with what you say, Huntsman," the queen hisses, eyes flashing like bolts of lightning. "You are speaking treasonous words."

Gale stands like stone, deciding on what to do. Every fiber of his being cries out for vengeance, but he knows realistically he can't. He thinks of Madge again. As easy as defiance would be, as fearless and uncaring of death he is, he thinks of her. There's someone dependent upon him, now. Someone who's waiting for him.

"I apologize, my lady," he grits out. "That was out of line. I don't know what's come over me."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Huntsman,' she says, her eyes probing his intently. "I am most displeased by it. But, as you have rid me of that pesky Snow White, I shall forgive you – this once. And if it ever happens again, I will not hesitate to kill you."

Gale mutters, "Yes, my lady."

"I think it only fitting," the queen continues, "that you witness the fruits of your labor, hmm?" The queen takes the heart out of the box and holds it in one hand, gazing at it admiringly. A red light begins to emanate from her palm, causing the heart itself to glow and begin to pulsate. Alma's gaze grows hungry and desperate. "Mine," she murmurs. "All that Magic, mine."

Gale begins to edge away slowly, breaking out into a cold sweat. He knows where that heart really came from, and he'd prefer not to be around when Alma finds out, as well.

Before he can escape, she bites into it viciously. The Magic immediately dies.

Blood dripping from her chin, she turns to him, eyes flashing. "What is this?" She hisses. "What did you bring me?"

Gale blinks innocently. "I don't understand," he says. "Is it not working?"

Alma throws the heart on the ground. "It should work instantly!" Alma howls. "I should be feeling Snow White's Magic flowing through me!" She advances towards him menacingly, back arched, teeth bared, like a feral cat. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Gale says, before realizing that was the worst thing to say.

Alma freezes. "Nothing?" She breathes. "You didn't kill her! You fell under her spell, too!" She snarls at him. "Where is she?"

Gale tenses. "You'll never find her," he says. "The Forest will hide her from you. It is loyal to her and her alone."

"Oh, I don't need the Forest, boy," Alma says. "I have you. Guards!" They advance on him and bind his arms. Gale goes willingly.

Alma goes to the wall and takes down a whip. "We'll soon uncover where Snow White is," she promises. "It won't be long at all."