Chapter One
'Wishing You Well'
Today, Prydain looked brighter as the morning rose to meet its people, even if it never felt so.
A castle of ivory stone and crimson spires stood with its towering head held high, as rays of sunlight slipped down its back and warmed its walla, great black shadows throwing its nightly grasp up the sides of each pillaring tower. Behind each window, one or more mousey servants, adorned in slop and rags, scurried here and there attending to the castle's needs — and by extension, their queen's — with faces harder than the blocks that formed the very place they worked in, and even the gentle caress of pale sunlight across their faces did little to make their spirits illuminate, or even rise to anything but the occasion of their eternal occupations, the loop they'd play along to until the day they died.
Wafting through the castle now was the sound and scent of labour, food being prepared in the kitchens, the grunts of those heaving cargo from one opulent room to another, the roar of smoke and cinders from fires being swept up from the evenings prior, and the fading smell of dirt as it was scraped from every wall and floor and crevice, roughening hands, those who had worked so long they knew nothing else outstanding, their faces and hands ragged with age as well as the work they'd offered for little reward — they knew the days where the rewards were greater, and thus worth the price, and spoke of them still with a quiet, wistful sigh of lost nostalgia.
Such solemn sounds were only broken up on occasion by chatter, that of bluebirds outside who soared enviably carefree from one tree branch to another, and the chatter of younger servants as they began their days, seeking what little companionship they could find through each other. One such party included two scullery maids, both remarkably fresh-faced even now, and an older bard in red with his rusted, but trusted lyre, trailing down the hallways in search of the outside, where they always began their work.
The first maintained a smile, and thick, golden hair that tumbled to her waist, kept in relative order by a black band around her head, her features pleasant as her smile and her energy distinct as she made conversation with her companions, a floating bauble floating on a little ways ahead of her. It shone brightly, and bobbed along as a child did while playing in a river. It had been at her side since she began her work here, had never left since, and thus had reached the point of no longer being questioned. The bard meanwhile, strummed in trial and error at his lyre, questioning the nature of the line he had just attempted to sing, his vocals an echoing twang; looking at him you may think he was an old man, but he in truth was merely middle-aged, yet his hair had greyed. Not that anyone commented, for honestly, the colour had lasted longer than most expected of him, so it was more of a compliment than an insult to remark on it. But it was the last of these three, and the youngest (albeit only by a single year next to the other girl) and most fresh of face, was the one who caught the most eyes, even with the drab colour of her clothes, even moreso compared to her companions; her skin rivalling the walls in their frail, yet gentle paleness, her eyes brown and warm, her lips round and rosy, as were her cheeks, and her hair black as an endless sea of night, a sky without stars.
With bucket and cloth in hand, the raven-haired girl came to a slow, yet still sudden stop, standing before a large painting that hung above them. Its subject was a knight, one who most would say was from the realm of dreams, who had to have been even with the nature of his reality; his armour glinting and ivory, his eyes radiant with resolve and his body knelt eternally in his pledge to Prydain and its people — even when clad in armour suited for battles to the end of one's life, a warmth radiated off of him, and it was something the girl couldn't help but always see, more than most. At the painting's lower half, there was but one simple name written; 'King Caderyn of Prydain'. Her eyebrows slanted slightly, her brows furrowed for a moment, yet her lips offered a small smile, a pale hand resting at her chest. And for a moment, she stood still as she took it in, just as she always did — and then, she smiled again to her companions, a different sort of smile without furrowed brow, and on they pressed.
As the three servants headed outside, shadows clawed their way up towards a window crafted carefully, with gentle thatching etched across its front, the image behind the window leading into a lonely chamber. At its centre, stood a woman; her face almost looking to have been crafted by unknown arts, lips plump and her form slender and clad in clothes that would have cost more than what her staff made in ten lifetimes, and enough to catch even the most pious eyes. But yet, her gaze was harsh, only softened as she looked at the reflection that stared back at her, her lips glinted in vague, perpetual self-satisfaction.
Something unknown flashed in the Queen's eyes as she raised her arms, and spoke, "Slave in the magic mirror, come from the farthest space..." she began to chant. "Through bound chains and darkness, I summon thee. Speak! And let me see thy face..."
With almost a reluctance, the mirror's surface shifted, revealing only a mask, its features set stoically as smoke billowed at its sides and back, the only other thing in the endless glass void. "What wouldst thou know...?" it answered, and then, after a moment of silence, "...My queen,"
"Magic mirror on the wall...who is the fairest of them all?" the Queen asked.
"Famed is thy beauty, so it may be. But hold...an even fairer maid I see. Fair in heart and in face, nothing can hide nor ruin her gentle grace." the Mirror answered, its face unchanging. "Fairest in the land...is she,"
In only seconds, Queen Grimhilde's refined face contorted with each word that passed her ears, something white and wicked aglow in her eyes as she stared the mirror down. With a single intake of breath, deliberate and green, she replied with a shaky control, one that soon slipped as she demanded, "Alas for her. Reveal it to me, reveal her name!"
"All know her, just as you do. Her skin pale ivory, and her heart eternally true..."
Hearing this description, and receiving her answer, did little to change the Queen's expression, however. Rather, her jaw clenched and tightened like a hand over a blade, her face contorting into a hateful scowl. Oh, she knew the girl, alright, much less her name, as much as she would adore forgetting it...
"Snow White?" Eilonwy's voice sprouted up amidst her friend's melodious humming.
Knelt at one end of a large set of solid steps, one hand rested a small bit behind her, close to the bucket she had carried with her, and the other scrubbed dutifully against the cream-coloured step to the tune of Fflewddur's strumming, all while her constant companion (titled by her as Pelydryn) floated loyally above her head, bobbing back and forth in perpetual defiance of gravity.
"Hm?" Snow White answered, her head tilting up, looking past a collection of doves who had gathered quite naturally to hear her voice.
"Have you been hearing anything...well, anything strange around lately...?" the blonde girl asked.
"Strange?" Snow White repeated, her head tilting ever so quizzically.
"Well, it's just that everyone in the castle lately keeps going on about 'axed barbarians' like it's been proclaimed by a goddess," Eilonwy explained as she scrubbed away at the top of the stairs. As she leaned over to throw some more water over the surface, she continued, "Honestly, I could hardly stay by the cook to listen to it. All this talk of despair and grimness is like a plague of insanity's hit us!"
Snow White's lips formed a gentle frown at that, "Goodness, that does sound awful..." she said, her voice carrying a certain ache as she heard this mere mention of distress. "I do hope it's all just rumours...I'd hate for anything bad to be happening,"
"I'll say...!" Eilonwy agreed, heartily. Her blue eyes flickered off to the side, and she gave her friend a small smile, one she previously lacked, hoping to lighten the nature of their conversation, "Though...I did hear something else too~" she giggled a little, turning to their companion in red, who clumsily made his way over with a wooden bucket gripped in his hands, little breaths of water tipping out of it with each awkward movement. "Isn't that right, Fflewddur?"
"O-oh, oh yes!" Fflewddur confirmed, a certain spirit radiating off of him; and indeed, the lyre that was kept tied to him didn't break a screeching string as he answered. "Something quite remarkable!"
"Oh? What was it?" Snow White wondered, her brown eyes wide as the shape of the well close behind them, hands gently clasped together as she leaned in, curiousity emanating like the sun in the sky off of her petite frame. "Do tell me," she added, earnestly.
Grinning a little now, Eilonwy leaned in closer too as Pelydryn floated between them now — giving a sense of effect. "Don't tell this to anyone...~ But I've heard there's a prince whose eyes shine like diamonds coming here!" she whispered, yet her voice was light.
Snow White felt a tiny gasp of, "Oh!" escape her ruby lips, her gaze aglow in quiet excitement, excitement shared between just the three of them. "Oh goodness, that's wonderful...!" she cheered, clapping her hands a little. "Do you think we might see him? Oh, can you imagine if we did?"
"That I can, my dear; and I'd write the finest ballad which would spread across all of Prydain!" Fflewddur replied — though at the end of his declaration, a string of his lyre snapped with an argumentative twang. "Oh, you! Don't ruin it," he glared down while scolding his instrument.
Giggles rippled from the two girls' throats as Fflewddur chastised his musical companion, before Snow White sighed dreamily as she rose from the steps, now striding slowly over towards the well. The doves cooed politely and flapped their white wings to join her. The ivory-skinned girl turned her head over, and gestured slightly with it to her friend, "Did I tell you what I heard about the well?"
At the sound of her friend's voice, Eilonwy gave a smile of good humour and began to trod down the stairs, being careful so as not to mark them with the deposed dirt, just in case any had managed to sneak onto the ends of her black shoes. With a small bounce, she reached the bottom of the wide set of steps and joined her friend's side, her hands feeling a cold rush from the cobblestone surface as they rested upon it.
Tilting her head, Eilonwy responded, a livelier curiousity than what was found in ten men, never mind a single girl, echoing in her voice. "So then..." she began. "What was it you heard, Snow?"
Snow White's finger rose into the 'shush' gesture, a youthful beam spreading across her face as she leaned over the well, the doves mimicking her. Looking back over her shoulder, she gently instructed, "You too, Fflewddur!"
Hearing her, Fflweddur almost appeared like a bird whose feathers had been unexpectedly rustled, albeit in affection as opposed to disruption. "Oh! W-well, alright then," he agreed, and soon enough, the trio were all leaned in over the well.
Leaning in close, Snow White continued, her voice a hushed, yet somehow sunny tone, "Promise not to tell?"
"Oh, I promise. I promise as though my life were to depend on it!" Eilonwy swore, crossing her heart.
"Yes...! A-as do I, Snow White," Fflewddur promised in turn, his eyes widened slightly in surprise at Eilonwy's rather...specific declaration.
Nodding in acknowledgement, Snow White's hands lowered, and rested around the well's base as she gave an almost sagely look. "Well, you see...we are standing by a wishing well~"
"Oh, truly?" Eilonwy answered with an innocent smile.
"Hmhm~" Snow White confirmed, before singing, "Make a wish into the well...that's all you have to do~ And if you hear it echoing...your wish will come true...~"
"Well, great Belin..." Fflewddur remarked, "I say, Snow White — since you're the one who discovered that, it's only right that you go ahead and make your wish first, wouldn't you say?"
"Do...do you think so, Fflewddur?" Snow White questioned; almost as if the poor girl was asking permission.
As Fflewddur nodded, Eilonwy chimed in, cheerily, "Of course! I'm certain your wish is as valuable as starlight,"
Humming a little in thought, Snow White began to sing again; wishing for the one she loved, or rather, the one she would love, to find her today — and sure enough, the water echoed her wish back to her, a promise such a thing would be granted. Eilonwy and Fflewddur felt their hearts warm up looking at Snow White, and the light that struck her face as she was given her answer.
"Well, will you look at that!" Fflewddur said, giving the girl a small pat on the shoulder. "There you go, the well will have your wish granted! You'll meet your love,"
"And not just that, you'll meet him today!" Eilonwy reminded.
As Snow White continued to sing, now readying Fflweddur to make a wish of his own, Eilonwy's eyes fell from the rippling pools of water at the bottom of the well, trailing off loosely to the wall — only for the smile on Eilonwy's face to fade thanks to what she saw there. Her brow furrowing, her cheeks reddened a little as her mind registered what it was she saw, her mouth slowly beginning to hang open.
There, upon the wall, was a young man, one whom Eilonwy had never seen before; now admittedly, her eyes had to truly battle to pull away from his face, and his dimpled smile, and the finery he was clad in, but her mind was stuck on one thing. He was climbing over the wall, and all while their backs were turned! Pushing herself off of the well, her gaze narrowing as she watched the male...lower himself into the garden!? Stepping back and heading up the steps again, Eilonwy promptly grabbed her bucket and the long-greyed rag that sat inside of it, and marched back down again, just as the intruder was making his way over to where Snow White and Fflweddur were.
"And I...~ Fflweddur Flam wish-" Fflweddur began, strumming at his harp strings; only to be abruptly cut off.
"Now, just what do you think you're doing!?" Eilonwy questioned, holding the bucket tight with both hands, swinging it threateningly yet carefully side to side, just enough to act as a warning that she could and likely would find a way to weaponize it if she needed to.
The brown-haired male stepped a few feet back, both brows raised in surprise as the scullery maid approached him. "Oh, I apologise — this isn't what it looks like, I just-"
"Oh, it isn't?" Eilonwy retorted, her bucket swings becoming more purposeful. "Because I'd say it looks like you're barging in like a thief! And if you are, then I won't have it!"
"Now, now, Eilonwy..." Fflweddur began, his hands now holding onto the wooden pillars of the well, Snow White now sharing in Eilonwy's preceding moment of gaping surprise. "Let's let the gentleman explain himself, shall we?"
Eilonwy huffed slightly at that, shaking her rag slightly at the stranger for emphasis. "Well, I'd hardly call him a gentleman. Climbing over someone's wall and letting yourself certainly isn't what a gentleman would do, is it? It'd be like if I just invited myself to your garden as if I owned it, I'm certain you wouldn't like that, would you?"
Mulling her words over, the male looked just that tad bit sheepish now, a striking contrast to the aura he outwardly carried about him, just as he did the dagger at his waist or the hat on his head. "...I realise that," he conceded.
Clearing his throat, the male bowed, and spoke once more, slowly and thoughtfully. "You are right. I did not mean to intrude or frighten any one of you; it was just...I heard the most wonderful singing voice while passing through, and I had only wanted to see to whom it belonged."
Snow White slowly peeked out from behind the protective structure of the wishing well, her face unsure and glancing. Without another word, she stumbled away from it, the doves fluttering instinctively upwards and into the air, and in only moments was up the top of the stairs, cheeks crimson and movements flustered. Fflweddur turned around, and called desperately back, all while Pelydryn seemed to vault through the air between Snow White and the unknown man, "Oh great Belin...! Snow White, wait!"
"Please, wait...! Oh, don't run away...!" the figure moved past Eilonwy, reaching a hand out as he came to a halt at the end of the rounding stairwell. Taking a small breath, "Now that I've found you...hear what I have to say...~"
That certainly took all of them off-guard, but Snow White and Eilonwy most distinctly; the former came to a stop, and looked over the edge of the stone at him, eyes softening in their uncertainty, though the hints of it still flickered like candlelight, while Eilonwy (who had been approaching him with the bucket, half-ready to swing it at him) went still. The sound of his voice as he sang...it was soft, and sweet, yet possessed a certain strength that was hard to not be soothed by.
As he continued with his tuneful serenade, Eilonwy slowly put the bucket down, and rested her arms against the well, joining Fflweddur now, her ears picking up each gentle syllable and sound as he sang. Now that she looked at him properly, she could tell he was about the same age as them, sixteen at the oldest, even with his swift athleticism, and her previous belief that he could be a threat began to slowly seep away. Even Pelydryn seemed to sway like a baby's cradle, side to side with its tune. Snow White gazed down upon him, as if struck by the very starlight her wish was worth, and slowly, the uncertainty in her features vanished like dust swept away by a tide, a tide of something new and unfamiliar, warmth flooding her gaze, and something bright filling her very soul.
Once the male concluded, Snow White returned to where she had been previously, her eyes fixed upon the male, her past uncertainty forgotten. "That was...that was lovely," she complimented, beaming and breathless.
"Not as lovely as yours...Snow White," the young man replied.
Looking left and right, Snow White wondered, "May...may I see you again?"
"Of course...! If...if you'll have me,"
"I gladly will~" Snow White agreed.
"Then...how about later today? Once evening falls, and our duties are complete?" the young man suggested.
"That would be perfect...!" Snow White confirmed, her joy remaining.
It was then that it was like a bolt of lightning had struck the young man's mind, as he quickly added, "Oh...! I am so sorry. I have completely forgotten my manners — I am Florian. Eilonwy, sir..."
"Fflweddur, Fflweddur Fflam!"
"Fflweddur Fflam, and Princess Snow White, it is an honour to be able to meet you all." Florian finished his introduction, an inviting smile gracing his face.
"Prince Florian?" Fflweddur repeated, eyes struck thick with shock.
That made Eilonwy's expression shift into one of startled recognition, and shame immediate and flushing. "Oh...oh no, I should be sorry...!" she confessed, a sharp gasp leaving her throat. "I am so sorry, your highness, had I known who you were I would never-"
Yet, Florian gave a graceful shake of the head. "Don't be; you were right to react as you did, Eilonwy," he assured, yet it did little to put the blonde girl's embarrassment to rest. "It's clear you simply wanted to protect your companions,"
"Great Belin, to think we would come into the presence of royalty on this day!" Fflweddur said, strumming at the strings of his lyre. "This truly is one too many inspirations for a single day!~"
The excitement rushing through Snow White did not leave her heart, her eyes, or any part of her, even as Florian made a discreet exit. Instead, a girlish giggle passed her lips as she rushed over to Eilonwy, clutching her hands, "Oh, Eilonwy! My wish truly has come true, hasn't it?"
Not wishing to put a damper on her sunny smile, especially with her threatening said wish-bringer with a bucket of water, Eilonwy answered, "Well, it certainly looks like it has...!"
"Goodness...I have no idea what I'll do..." Snow White trailed off, eyebrows slanted as she gnawed her lip in frail anxiety. "It's all so new to me...it's all so, so...fast,"
"Just be yourself, Snow!" Eilonwy advised, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. Such displays might have seemed odd, between a scullery maid and a princess, but the time had gone by so long with Snow White in their position that it felt more unnatural not to treat her as the dear friend she was. "Any man, lord, prince or animal-keeper would be lucky as the gods to have you!"
"It's true, you know!" Fflewddur chimed in support, and no string on his harp broke. Snow White felt a sense of ease wash over her, just as redness did her face and butterflies took flight in her gut at that little thing.
"Oh, thank you both," Snow White said, gratefully. "I don't know what I'd do without having the two of you!-"
"M-m'lady-" a deeper voice emerged from the top of the stairs, and it was one Fflewddur knew well, as displayed by the friendly glint of recognition in his eyes once he caught sight of the figure.
Walking towards the steps, Fflweddur greeted the man with gusto, "Ah, Humbert! 'Tis good to see you, friend! How have you been faring?"
"Well enough, Fflweddur. I take it you fare well yourself?" the huntsman answered, his voice not devoid of warmth; yet there was something that struck Eilonwy as...off. No, not off, but rather, stilted. His head turned towards Snow White, the man bowing deeply before explaining, "You are to come with me, your highness,"
Snow White's mouth formed a small 'o', "Oh? Is something the matter?"
A moment of hesitation, one Snow White didn't seem to take notice of. "N-no." he cleared his throat again. "No. It is just...the queen has asked that I take you to the forest — to pick wildflowers,"
"The queen?!" Fflweddur and Eilonwy cried out in shared surprise, with even Pelydryn seeming to abruptly fly up, presumably their own way of expressing their sentiment of shock.
"Yes, the queen. Do you need a moment to change?" Humbert continued, coolly.
"Oh, yes, if that's alright." Snow White requested; Eilonwy's mouth moved to voice her uncertainties, but she lowered her vocal dagger upon seeing Snow White's hopeful look. Inwardly, she felt herself sigh, knowing exactly why. "But...are you sure I shouldn't finish up here first?"
Humbert's head hung slightly now, as it shook left and right. "No; the queen asked we leave as soon as possible,"
Eilonwy and Fflweddur found themselves shooting each other a look, one of puzzlement, ones that failed to fade even as Snow White politely apologised, even as they assured, "N-no, if it's from the queen then it must be important...you go on, we'll meet you later,"
Once the pair disappeared off, back into the castle, Eilonwy could remain silent no longer. "...I'm not sure about this, Fflweddur. If I wasn't sure about that prince, then I'm certainly not sure about the queen!" she folded her arms, letting out the sigh he had previously withheld, her voice remaining just barely low enough to avoid the queen's potential earshot.
Fflweddur seemed to gulp, "I will say...Humbert did seem quiet today," and upon seeing the look Eilonwy gave him, he added rather awkwardly, "Well, quieter than usual. Perhaps he's just as surprised as we are?" he suggested, uncertainly.
"Well, no wonder...!" Eilonwy threw her arms out for emphasis, even with her voice a hissed whisper, "The queen's never been exactly the type to just give days off, has she? It'd be like a soldier dismissing his entire regiment on the day of a major battle! That woman is many things, but graceful to any of us, Snow White, especially is...I mean, come on, Fflweddur, you have to admit this is a little strange."
Sighing a little bit, Fflweddur looked back down into the well, "Strange it is, but there's little we can do about it," he reminded, and Eilonwy had to concede. Just as a certain calm acceptance seemed to enter his gaze, it quickly scattered once Eilonwy and Pelydryn's figure strode towards the large wall, the same one which Prince Florian had used to make both his entrance and exit. "...Um, Eilonwy? What are you doing?" he asked with a small tremour.
Taking hold of the carefully-maintained trellis, Eilonwy tugged herself upwards, using the branches and bushes that stuck out as resting for her feet, continuing her way up until she was able to look over the top; her soft blue eyes scanned the pale horizon for a moment or so, before falling on two silhouettes, including the one she knew so well. Snow White cheerfully strode beside Humbert, carrying an empty basket and chatting away as songbirds sang, a sight that prompted Eilonwy's rueful smile.
And so, instead of saying the words she would most usually, the ones that still lingered inside her head, she gave a hearty wave; "Snow White! Fflweddur and I hope you have a good time!" she called.
But yet, it was still a thought of her mind — she did hope for that, just...the thoughts inside her head traced shadows, shadows with no room for joy or simple pleasures, at this moment. So she did hope that — she hoped that as much as she wished that she herself would be wrong about the suspicions that now floated about in the regions of her thoughts, guarded and unspoken, yet demanding upon her head all the same.
A/N: Now this was a blast to write! Natural disclaimer of course that none of the properties here belong to me, nor does any of the music. Don't worry, this isn't a music fic, I just included those parts because they felt most natural for it.
A quick thing about ages here, since I indeed want to clarify I've aged him down; I personally never bought the theory saying he was thirty-one, especially because most never cited their sources, and the ones I've found myself seem to indicate he's about eighteen or so, so I've aged him down again to sixteen for our purposes. Most sources involving Taran (who I was going to have show up in this chapter since this was originally intended to just be a prologue that set things up, but it became a full-fledged chapter in the end, as you can see~) seem to indicate he's pinned to be about fourteen, and the same applies for Snow White herself. I know Eilonwy's implied to be either Taran's age or just a year younger, but I've aged her up just the smallest bit to fifteen years old. I don't know, it just always felt more like she was a touch older than Taran to me, but ah well.
Onto the process stuff, I really did enjoy writing this baby once I got into it. I wasn't really expecting that, since this was namely just a plot bunny I noted down at random one day (I can't even really recall what warranted it), but I just felt the urge to just do, and in two days I'd rewatched both movies and had a full outline prepared! Then again, Cosmogyral (my other multi-chaptered fanfic, for anyone new here!) came about in a very similar way, as did another WIP which I'm still toggling titles for, so I guess that's just how my best ideas come to fruition! ^^ Also, while I've not read the books myself (I already have my hands full reading the Earthsea quartet at the moment, but perhaps one day), I did want to incorporate just a few things from them in here, namely with Eilonwy, though that'll probably become more obvious as we go along. Nothing big, but some nice little details, I think! But yeah, her being an actual scullery maid was partially inspired from that line the Horned King threw at her, but also because apparently in the books she was high-born but was the last of her line and didn't really have a kingdom to go back to or anything. Either way, writing her, Fflweddur and Snow interacting with one another was a ton of fun! ^^
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and if you have any thoughts or feedback, then feel free to review! I adore getting feedback of any kind, especially since this is fairly different to what I've been writing before now. I'll see you next chapter!