Hi! Sorry for making you wait for an update! Unfortunately, I fear you'll also have to wait a little longer than usual for the next update. School work is piling up and I have a very stressful move to a new apartment coming soon. With some luck, I estimate that I can update in sometime in the beginning of December.

Chapter 14: Caught

Snow could not stop smiling.

The powerful rush of emotion and desire of the night before had gentled, but was no less sweet or intense. The kisses and touches they had exchanged were at the forefront of her memory, threatening to upstage the reality itself; more than once she was so lost in them that whole conversations, not to mention people, passed her by without her noticing. The only exception was of course Eric. He took all her attention, all her thoughts, by merely being in the same space with her.

Snow was fairly certain that all could guess what had happened between her and the huntsman. How could they not, when Snow couldn't help but look at Eric, blushing and smiling, her heart speeding recklessly, when he answered her look and smile with his own. She wanted nothing more than to take hold of his hand and drag him somewhere private and continue the…activities that Gavin had so rudely interrupted. However, she dared not, when there weren't any private spaces to be found in the caves during the day, the people coming and going heedless of anyone's privacy. Although it didn't seem that Gavin had told others of what he had interrupted, Snow could not take the risk of someone else seeing her and Eric together, not when she had yet to tell William.

Her old friend had not been at breakfast, having left to survey the damage the storm had wrought at first light, and Snow had been relieved. She knew she couldn't pretend to be indifferent towards Eric, couldn't conceal her true feelings, and she had been afraid that with one glance William would have known everything. That knowledge, Snow knew, was unavoidable, and the sooner she told William, the better off they would all be, but she didn't want it to happen during breakfast with all the people as their audience. William deserved better than that. He deserved all the happiness the world could offer, but Snow couldn't be the one to give it to him. She could only hope that he would understand.

The upcoming conversation with William made her apprehensive, sad and slightly guilty, but those dark feelings couldn't cling to her long. One look from Eric, his eyes warm and bright, and the happiness filled her up again, threatening to burst her heart. She couldn't help but smile. Snow couldn't remember when she had last felt like this, light with joy, everything precious in the world within her fingertips. The heady desire was a new feeling, the fierceness of her passion startling, a little frightening. She hadn't imagined to ever want another like this; desperately, throughout, to the end of everything.

It would have been absolute agony, if her feelings had been rejected, if they would have been left to burn inside of her, futile, with no hope of acceptance, of consummation. However, from the very first look Eric had given her at breakfast, Snow knew their closeness of the night before had not been an isolated incident, but a current state of affairs and a promise of more things – deeper, fuller – to come. During breakfast, Eric had sat beside her, so close his thigh had almost touched hers. He had been quick to pass first the cup, then the spoon and the porridge bowl to her, his fingers lingering on her hands a moment too long for it to be just a casual, accidental touch. Snow had blushed up to the roots of her hair, certain all could hear her heart thudding, quick and loud.

Snow had scarcely noticed the way Gavin had avoided both her and Eric's eyes, devouring his breakfast as quickly as possible and then vanishing outside. Nor had she followed the conversation around her, Thomas' and the others' words had been just meaningless background noise, as her whole focus was on the man beside her and the warmth that seemed to seep from his body into hers, heating her up. Snow had only come out of her daze, when Beth's worried voice had demanded an answer from her. She had mumbled that she was fine, just a little tired, and had tried hard not to squirm and blush under Beth's sharp gaze. It had not helped that Eric had snorted almost inaudibly and had pinched her thigh quickly. His eyes, when Snow had turned to look at him indignantly, had been alight with mirth, and his mouth had twitched with an impish grin. She had very much wanted to kiss him then.

She did kiss him later, all her good intentions of waiting until they had absolute privacy, until she had told William, vanishing from her mind, when he took hold of her waist and pressed her against the wall of the women's chamber. The sleeping place was momentarily empty, but the central cave was not; the short tunnel between the caves did nothing to silence the people's voices, their animated talking. Snow had a brief moment of anxiety, thinking how anyone could come at any moment and see them there, embracing, but her protest died in her lips as his expert hands caressed her slim waist, his fingers pressing into her skin, his touch burning through the layer of her clothes.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Eric murmured, the want in his eyes making her breath catch. Somehow, despite being nearly incoherent by his nearness, by his wandering, wonderful hands, Snow managed to answer, "Apparently something…that makes you –" One of his hands cupped gently her breast and all her thoughts ground to a halt.

"Yes?" The huntsman asked all too innocently, his hands continuing their pleasurable exploration, unrelenting.

"Something that makes you pinch me in the middle of breakfast!" Snow whispered furiously, trying to sound irritated, but the hitch in her breath, when he drew closer still and mouthed her neck, rather betrayed her. Eric lifted his head and gave a low chuckle, "I could not help it." He kissed the corner of her mouth lightly, sweetly. "It was that, or kiss you silly in front of everyone." She panted and tried to chase his mouth, but his lips teased her, peppering her with light, quick kisses to her cheeks, nose, jaw, around her eyes. "Forgive me, love?"

In that moment, she could have forgiven him anything. He didn't need to know that though. "Maybe…" she sighed, her hands clutching his strong arms, "If you kiss me."

"I thought I was doing just that," Eric said, between kissing the tip of her ear and the side of her face. He sounded amused.

"I meant properly," Snow muttered, distracted by his hot breath, his lips so close to her mouth now, and his clever, devious hands stroking her hips, pulling her tight against him. Eric's smile widened, and he started to answer, but Snow never heard it; his words were lost between them, when at last they came together in a fervent, knee-weakening kiss. All else vanished, and only they remained, so entwined Snow imagined her heart's roots growing deep within him, joining the pulsing line of his life, fusing into one. There would be none that could uproot them from each other now.

Only the need to breathe forced them apart, and as Snow gasped for air, she felt full, suddenly too big for her own skin. How could one hope to contain so much feeling, so much happiness?

Eric drew back a little, so he could watch her face intently. His expression had turned solemn. "I should court you properly," he said as he touched her cheek gently with his thumb, "You deserve gifts and poetry and walks in the moonlight and whatnot – all the bright things in this world." He smiled ruefully, "I am not very good at that."

"I don't care about any of that," Snow declared vehemently.

"Nonetheless…" Eric sighed, sounding remorseful. "I wish I could give you all that you deserve. Your kingdom and your throne. The love and adoration of your people." He swallowed, and his voice turned gravelly with emotion, "I want to give you your home back, but I…I don't know how." Snow could see that it cost him dearly to admit his powerlessness, knew that above all he hated to be helpless. She shook her head, his words striking deep. My home is with you, she thought, knowing it to be true.

"You don't have to," she whispered instead, overcome with the need to ease his heart. She wanted to tell the huntsman that she didn't expect him to solve any of her problems, nor did she think any less of him for it.

"I know," Eric smiled slightly, a distant look in his eyes. He gave her a quick kiss and then reluctantly let go of her. "Someone is bound to come soon. I should go." Snow wanted to protest, wanted to draw him to her and kiss him again, but she knew he was right. And so she watched him leave the chamber, vowing that soon it wouldn't matter how many times they would be caught embracing; soon everyone would know they were together, for better or worse.

She leaned against the rocky wall, breathing deep. It was time to find William.

"So you are caught."

Snow startled violently; Moira had managed to catch her unawares again. The old woman stood at the entrance, her mouth stretched into a wide grin. "Caught you are, tight." Snow saw no point in trying to deny the words, nor did she want to talk with the old woman about anything else.

"I have to go," she said resolutely, ready to push past Moira.

"Yes, he waits for you," Moira's gaze was penetrating and Snow faltered despite her will. The old woman tilted her head slowly, like a curious bird. "You want to be gentle, but that will only hurt him more."

"I…" Snow swallowed painfully, the words impossible to say. She felt very selfish suddenly, wanting her happiness to remain unmarred by the sadness and guilt she felt when thinking of William.

"Child," Moira said with something like kindness and a lot more like pity, "someday you'll learn that some hurts go too deep to heal."

Snow could not deny that either; she pushed past Moira at last, throat too tight and heart too full with warring emotions.

-o-

Snow did not get far. She was on the way outside, having heard that William had just returned, when Beth called for her. Snow sighed impatiently. She didn't know if her courage could endure another interruption; she had to speak to William as soon as possible, before she would lose her nerve. As Snow stopped, Beth hastened to her side, breathless.

"Snow, I need to talk to you," Beth said, the tone of her voice revealing her urgency.

"Now?" Snow knew she sounded plaintive. She could see the daylight ahead, the mouth of the tunnel dimly visible.

"It's important," Beth claimed. She looked behind her and then peered over Snow's shoulder. No one was there; for the moment, they were alone. She didn't waste time with twisting and turning her words, but got straight to the point. "You have been speaking with Moira."

Snow was surprised; she had half-expected to hear something about her and Eric, or something about William. Beth didn't wait for her confirmation or denial, but continued quickly, "I don't know what you have been talking about, but you should be careful – she isn't as harmless as she seems."

"I just – we have just talked, or well, she has mostly talked and I haven't understood half of it," Snow said, not wanting to explain her dreams. She felt compelled to add, "It's been nonsense mostly."

Beth looked at her pointedly, clearly disbelieving. "Moira…she has a way of getting inside your skin. Believe me; I know how convincing she can be. She is like a dog with a bone, never letting go, until you believe her wisdom." The word wisdom was laden with contempt. Beth's voice was intense, willing Snow to take heed of her words. "I know it may seem that she can be of some help to you, but Moira only follows her own interests and if those aren't the same as yours…"

"Beth – I don't really know what to think, to be honest." Snow was baffled. She had always thought that Moira was a little creepy, her mutterings sometimes alarming, sometimes incomprehensible, but still always mysteriously hitting their mark. There was something unearthly about the old woman, but Snow had never though her dangerous or intentionally malicious.

Beth bit her lip, debating something in her mind. She looked again around them, making sure they were still undisturbed. "I…it's obvious that I don't like her. She has never accepted me, and she tried her hardest to keep me and Thomas apart." There was old bitterness in her voice, festering under the surface. "But it isn't just that. Moira – people used to go to her, when they needed potions and spells. And not just for healing a sickness or blessing the crops, but for dark things."

Snow was still reeling from the knowledge that Beth and Thomas were apparently having a love affair to really take in what else Beth was saying. Spells and potions? Dark things?

"And now that you and Eric are together…" Beth's voice lost some of its self-assurance and she flushed slightly. "If…if you need something to…when you – you don't have to go to Moira."

It took Snow for a moment to realize what Beth was trying to say, but when she understood, Snow blushed fiercely. It hadn't even crossed her mind that she would need something to prevent pregnancy.

Beth saw Snow's embarrassment and discomfort and smiled softly. "I'm sure that Eric knows what to do, but if you are uncertain or want to know anything – you can always ask me," she said reassuringly. Snow could only nod, too mortified to speak, but still touched by Beth's offer. The nod seemed to be enough for Beth; she smiled and turned to go back deeper into the mines.

For a moment Snow just stood there, in the middle of the main tunnel, her thoughts reeling. Embarrassed, she felt keenly how inexperienced she really was. Snow had pieced together long ago from folk's talk what lovers did together, but in reality she was just going by her instinct and want, eagerly following Eric's lead. But what if she would make a mistake? What if he would be unsatisfied with her?

Snow shook her head as if to clear her mind, and snorted to herself. Resolutely she pushed her fears aside, acknowledging how silly they were, how unnecessary. When she was with Eric, everything seemed to happen spontaneously, by itself. Like there was no other course to be taken, like their every touch and kiss was necessary, predestined. And Snow knew that Eric would never steer her wrong.

Suddenly a burst of laughter echoed in the tunnel. A group of men were coming towards her, and Snow tried to look casual, like she hadn't been standing there by herself at all, lost in thought. She quickly passed them by and headed for outside, her heart's rhythm picking up speed. A small part of her wished that she wouldn't find William, but a much larger part of her insisted that she would not be cowardly. She had to do what was right.

William was in the clearing. He was clashing swords with Kurt in what looked more like a real fight than any practice. The men whirled around each other, trying to find a weakness they could exploit, grunting with effort when they parried the other's strikes. William looked furious, attacking more than defending, his harsh breathing audible even over the clang of metal.

Snow stood against a rock wall quietly, unwilling to interrupt them and break their concentration. Dismayed, she watched as the fight grew in intensity, half-fearing it would end in someone being wounded. However, after a few tense moments, Kurt's sword was clattering to the ground, and William pressed his weapon against the man's breast. Kurt acknowledged his defeat good naturedly, clapping William on the back.

The men seemed to notice her presence at the same time; Kurt gave her a courteous nod, but William tensed and half-turned away. Snow's spirits sank even lower. Kurt knew when he wasn't wanted and excused himself quickly, vanishing inside the tunnel. Now the clearing was empty, save for Snow and William.

"William," Snow said, gathering up all her courage, "I need to talk to you."

He was still half-turned away from her, eyes resolutely fixed on the surrounding mountain wall. "I know what you are going to say." His voice was bleak. "Nothing here stays secret."

"I wanted to tell you myself." Snow felt like all her carefully thought lines were rendered null now that there was no breaking the news; William already knew and the hurt she had been trying to avoid causing was already present. "I never meant to deceive you in any way."

"I was a fool to think you would love me," William said sharply, turning to look at her at last. He wore a stony expression, but his hopeless, angry eyes betrayed him. He was still sweaty from his fight, and strands of his hair were plastered to his forehead. He looked like he had fought and lost. "I should have known from the beginning, from the way you looked at him, followed his every move."

"William," she tried desperately, "I do care about you, but –"

"But only as a friend," William scoffed, but then continued almost pleading, "If I had found you earlier, maybe things would be different, we could have…"

Snow didn't know if things would have turned out differently, if she had met William sooner after meeting Eric, but she could only believe she would have fallen in love with Eric regardless. She could not confess that to William though. "I'm sorry," Snow said softly, "for hurting you, but I can't help how I feel."

"Of course not," William gave a mirthless laugh, "don't worry, none of this is your fault." But the tone of his voice belied his words, and Snow felt her throat tighten. She didn't know what to say to him; all her words were useless.

William looked at her, resigned. "For what it's worth, I'll be your friend. Can't really stop now, just because you want someone else." Snow gave a watery smile, feeling pathetically grateful. "And as your friend," William continued emphatically, "I hope you'll at least listen to me."

"I'll always listen to you," Snow promised. Even as a child she had wanted his opinion and that hadn't changed.

"Eric, he is…" Snow tensed as William said the huntsman's name. His voice was grave when he said, "I know you think the world of him, but be careful. I fear he'll end up disappointing you, proving to be unworthy." Snow was already silently shaking her head, but William wasn't finished. "You'll be hurt, if you're not careful, so show a little restraint." The last was said almost cuttingly.

Snow had promised to listen, not to agree, and so she said with forced calmness, "I think you are wrong."

"And if I'm not?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Snow confessed, determined. For a moment they looked at each other, standing a few feet apart and farther now from each other than they had been during all those years they hadn't even known if the other still lived.

It was the end of the discussion, but not, Snow hoped, their friendship.