(A/N: I'm sorry for the delay! My mind was elsewhere…oh, look, a butterfly!

And yeah, this story is beginning to stop sounding like Snow White. I think I should change the title...but then again, the dwarves were a bit of minor characters as well...maybe.)

It was evening when the king returned to the palace, the moon brightly lighting his way. Caiaphas fingered the two vials in his pocket. One had the power to change, and the other had the power to destroy.

It was evening when the princess too returned to the palace. Its walls were cold and threatening, as if ready to say, "Once you come in, you're never coming back out!" Amata shuddered and pulled her cloak closer to herself, trying to will away the fear.

Not wanting to be seen by anyone, she climbed over the walls, ran through the garden, and went in through an open window. She was home free until she reached the hall leading to her chambers.

"Amata? Is that you?" a voice asked. She froze and turned around. Only one person called her by that name, without a title.

"Oh, there you are, Father," Amata quickly put on a fake smile. "I was wondering where you were off to this morning."

"Well, ahem, my daughter, I have been off taking care of something." He pulled his hand out of his pocket awkwardly, and though Amata suspiciously glanced at it, she continued smiling.

Something was off, and the two of them knew it.

"And what were you doing out in the palace gardens, Amata?"

She tried not to show her fear. "I was clearing my head by taking a walk around the garden," she quickly explained.

He looked her up and down. "Why are you wearing a cloak?"

"I-It is because I get cold," Amata lied plainly (though if you felt how the wind was in the Kingdom of Israel, you could see her point).

The king raised an eyebrow, but questioned her no further.

"Your Majesty," a servant announced, running up to them. "Your supper is ready."

King Caiaphas nodded, "Alright, I will go," then turned to his daughter again. "And you, wash up for dinner."

"Yes, Father," Amata said as she hurried up the stairs. She sighed tiredly as she did.

But then again, what else did she have to do?

In the town of Capernaum, a certain young man was having the same dilemma as the princess.

Yeshuah wished he had something better to do than hide. And it wasn't getting any better with the people who kept him company.

There were indeed a few more people who knew about his true identity, but luckily they also knew how to keep quiet, unlike a certain youth who led them to Yeshuah in the first place. And so over time, the number of people who knew about the fugitive in the house of Peter outside of Peter's house grew from 4 to 10.

This number included John, James, Mary (who was from the town of Magdala, to differentiate her from Peter's wife), the other James, Andrew, Philip, Nathanael (I believe you've met them already), Matthew the tax collector, Thomas – who was an architect* – and an ordinary townsfolk named Jude Thaddeus.

Yeshuah sighed as he rolled over on his bed. It was like having 11 babysitters for him, Peter included. (Sure, Mary – Peter's wife – did know he was Yahweh's son, but she didn't baby him as much as the others did. She was just doing what she could so he could survive.)

"Maybe they are trying to make a messianic cult to overthrow the king and give me back 'my rightful throne'," the carpenter contemplated.

Whatever.

A knocking on the door roused him from his thoughts. Hearing no one get it (the knocking was rather quiet), Yeshuah decided to answer it himself, though he took a cloak just to be safe. He lowered the hood over his face so the person outside wouldn't be able to see his eyes, and opened the door.

"Good evening, sir," a young guard greeted him. "I come here by order of the princess. Tell me honestly: is the royal carpenter here? Or have you seen him anywhere?"

Yeshuah was unsure how to answer. At first, he thought it was a trap to lure him in. But when he looked around more closely, he was sure that the young guard was really on his own.

"And besides, Amata, not the king, ordered him to find me," Yeshuah reasoned. "I can trust her."

"Um…yes, he is here," the carpenter half-muttered.

The soldier nodded, looking almost relieved and tired, unfitting for his age. Then after looking around and making sure no one else was watching, like the carpenter had done earlier, he went closer to the aforementioned and declared, "You are the carpenter Yeshuah, are you not?"

"Huh?" Yeshuah stepped back, startled. "P-pardon?"

"The way you hide your face. I can see you are Yeshuah, the son of Yosef." The soldier explained, and the fugitive softened, before pulling back the hood a little.

"Yes, I am," he admitted. "What do I have to do now?"

The soldier looked him in the eye, and said, "I have to report back to Princess Amata. She will tell me what I have to do next." Then he returned to his horse, mounting it.

"My name is Simon," the soldier said. "That way, you will know how to find me."

"Alright, sir," Yeshuah nodded, kind of dazed.

Then Simon rode off, information of the carpenter's whereabouts in tow.

Yeshuah closed the door behind him. He wasn't surprised to see Peter standing by, waiting for him.

"Who was that?" the fisherman asked. The young man sighed tiredly, and then answered plainly.

"I am now sure he is an ally."

* - I've heard this story once about St. Thomas, stating that he was an architect. Something like that.

Sorry if it sucked. But whatever.

Oh, and thanks for 500+ views!