Alright, hopefully I'm not the only one who thinks this one is really cute. It's a 'Snowing' one - all fluffy and pretty, as promised - so here's hoping you guys like it. And for my Castle fans, I posted Chapter 30 of Glass Slipper this morning - but it's not too late to start reading it, the chapters are fairly short - so please go and review that.

I know people are reading this story and not reviewing but you see guys, reviews are how we as a writing know what's going on - whether or not you like it, what you think should or will happen. If we don't hear from you, we assume no one is reading and eventually we'll stop writing - and then where would we be? So please guys, if you hated it, if you loved it, if you like ducks, let us know in the reviews. Thanks for listening to that mini rant there.

You can follow me on twitter at vatrask for updates on this story and my other ones.

Enjoy 3


Jonquil

She loved horseback riding through the country-side – what eight year old girl didn't? – the wind wiping through her hair, the freedom of being herself rather than just a princess. The sympathetic looks and expectations only grew after her mother died. People looked at her like a little lost girl but at the same time looked to her as a leader – or would-be leader – and all she was was a girl who lost her mother and had no idea who to be. But when she was riding, she was whoever she wanted to be and that type of freedom was intoxicating to her; so much so that she didn't pay attention to where she was riding exactly until her horse was turning sharply to avoid a wooden fence. She'd nearly run into a small farm out into the middle of nowhere – not particularly odd – and more importantly, a little boy who dove into the mud to avoid being trampled. "Hey!" He scolded, wiping the grime off his face, still sitting there as she got off her horse.

"I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She quickly tied her horse to the fence and knelt beside the boy to help brush him off.

He flicked her away "obviously; you should watch where you're going little girl."

She flushed red at his words "I said I was sorry for almost trampling you, there is no reason to be rude."

"I have every reason to be rude to a girl who can't concentrate on where she's going."

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying her best to keep calm and not lose her temper – her mother had always taught her that a princess was gracious and calm under any circumstance. But then she remembered that she wasn't a princess today. So she pushed him and he flopped back into the mud with a thud "that's for being rude."

"Oh yeah?" he rose to he knees, slipping in the mud, about to pounce on her when he jumped back at his mother's voice.

"Heaven's child, what do you think you're doing?"

He quickly rose to his feet, hands behind his back to seem as innocent as possible. "Nothing mother, I was just saying hello to…" he turned to her. Eyes wide, searching for her help in saving him from his mother's impending wrath. But she smirked at him.

"My name is Snow White and your son was being very rude to me." His mother's eyes widened.

"Princess," she lowered her head "how good of you to visit our humble home" the little boy looked at his mother like she was crazy before turning back to the little girl who was looking uneasily at the woman.

"What kind of a name is Snow White?" He hadn't realized how close his mother was until she was smacking him upside the head.

"Where are your manners, boy?"

"What's wrong with my name; what's your name?" She bit back, doing her best to ignore the woman.

"It doesn't matter what my name is," he crossed his arms "and I don't care if you're royalty; if I were a royal, I would be nice to my subjects."

Frustrated by boy's words she glared at him a moment, her chest puffing in anger, before storming off on foot, completely forgetting her horse. She'd only gotten a few feet when she realized her mistake but pride made her keep walking; she'd have a servant come and get the horse later – and maybe teach the boy a lesson.

"Wait," she paused when she heard him calling to her but kept moving "Snow White, wait" this time she did stop if only because he said her name without snickering.

"What do you want?" She snapped, turning on her heel to come face to face with the mud-soaked boy holding up a handful of white and yellow flowers to her face. "What are these?" She eyed the flowers uncertainly; they were pretty but…why would a boy give a girl flowers?

"They're jonquil; my mother says they mean 'love returned'."

"Love returned?" She wrinkled her nose at him – and it wasn't from that smell of mud that covered him "Why would you give me these?"

He shyly shrugged, smiling a little sweetly, hoping to soften the blow "can they mean 'I'm sorry' instead?"

She pursed her lips, looking at him, covered in mud and smiling at her hopefully "I suppose." His real smile was so sweet – and yes, her heart may have skipped a few beats there – and she took them, admiring them up close with a matching smile.

"Would you like your horse back Snow White?" She flushed – in embarrassment first but also because he didn't call her princess – and nodded slowly, waiting for him to run eagerly down the hill and return a moment later with her horse.

"Thank you," she avoided eye contact, suddenly feeling very shy around him.

"Anytime."

"I really should get going; my father will be looking for me." She released a nervous giggle and instantly berated herself – at least she was acting like a normal little girl.

"You can come back and visit if you want." He gave her a half smile which she retuned as she mounted her horse again.

"Maybe, if there's no mud around." They both giggled anxiously and she held the flowers to her chest "thank you for the flowers, they're really nice." Again he shrugged and she was certain he blushed a little so she smiled a toothy, sweet grin as she began to ride away. Once she was riding again, the wind in her hair, free of all titles, she soon forgot her brief adventure with the little boy – as did the little boy – but she kept the flowers in a jar by her bed until they withered and died, a memento of her brief moment of freedom.