CHAPTER 5 - BURNING

Recommended for mature audiences only. Some content is not suitable for young readers.

(Updated for errors & minor context - 03-Jan-2018)

"Snow!"

"Everybody out."

"Stop the bleeding, Greta."

"I don't know if I can, ma'am"

The searing pain engulfed her. She tried to scream and cry out, but the pain was paralysing; weighing down on her, squeezing the breath out of her lungs. The voices flew around her, but she could not make out who they belonged to. She tried to call out for him, but she couldn't find the strength to utter the words.

"Can you here us your Majesty?"

"It was an accident. I'm so sorry."

She slipped in and out of consciousness. Her body shook uncontrollably; it was too hot, then it was too cold. She was wet all over, drowning in her own sweat. Every time she managed to open her eyes for a few seconds, blurry shapes stood around her, but other times there was nothing. Then everything would fade, and she would slip into the darkness again.

"It's been almost two days, Mary. She has a fever."

"Just keep redressing the wound."

"He keeps asking after her."

"We are forbidden to speak to him."

Her awareness was slightly revived every time somebody lifted her head and filled it with a strange tasting liquid. She had no strength to ask what it was; she only knew that she had to swallow before she drifted away again.

"How is she?"

"Her fever is settling. But all we can do is wait, Sir."

Four days later

Mary walked into the Queen's chambers quietly. She placed the small bowl of water she was carrying on the bench beside the bed and wet a nearby cloth. As she gently patted the Queen's forehead, Snow's eyes opened slightly and closed again as usual. Only this time she muttered something. Her voice was so soft and shaky that Mary lent closer to try and catch the words.

"My Lady? I'm sorry, I can't hear you. How are you feeling?"

"Eric," Snow whispered. She groaned softly, and her delicate face winced in pain. "Where is he?"

Mary looked at the young girl and sighed. "Hush now. Never mind that dear girl. You just get better and try and get some more sleep."

Seven days later

When Snow opened her eyes it was dark, but the moon and fireplace gave off enough light so that she could see around her. Snow went to sit up but a sharp pain in her stomach flattened her. Her hands moved to the source of pain and felt a bandage wrapped around her middle. She found the wound two inches on the left of her navel. Snow laid still for a moment as the memories flooded back to her. The night with Eric, the argument with William, and the fight in the courtyard. She groaned. Oh, what must people be thinking? Snow peered over the blankets and looked around the chamber. A figure was sitting in the chair near the fireplace.

"Eric?" she whispered, her voice croaking.

"No, dear." Mary got up and walked over to the bed. "I'm so glad you are awake, sweetheart. We were all so worried." The old woman sat on the bed and reached for Snow's hand. "How are you feeling dear?"

Snow could just make out Mary's face. "What happened?" she asked softly. The wound in her stomach began to burn.

Mary's face tightened. "There was a fight dear. Sir William and the Huntsman... You were struck by an arrow. You've been here almost over a week."

Snow remembered seeing William reach for his bow. The arrow that was meant for the Huntsman had hit her instead. What if William had hit Eric? He might have been killed.

"Where are they? Eric and William?"

"In the tower, dear."

"What!" Snow's wound roared as she sat up and she gasped in pain.

"Be still, dear, you'll open your wound!" Mary fretted.

"Mary, this cannot happen. He must be released at once."

"I can't do anything on the matter sweetheart," Mary sighed. "You must meet with the Duke first, he is worried about you."

"Where is he?"

"I'll tell the guards to fetch him, but I need to redress your wound while we wait for him, dear one." Snow nodded, and Mary disappeared for a moment to send a guard to the Duke. "Now be still, and it'll be over in a minute," Mary huffed when she returned.

Snow watched the maid as she ran about gathering all sorts of jars and rags. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mary. You are too kind."

Mary pouted. "Nonsense, dear; you do not have to thank me. Thank Greta when you see her, if you must. She's good with healing, you know. We sent for the physician right away after you were hurt, but they aren't common since Ravenna's rule, and it took a few hours for one to arrive. Well, we had to try and stop the bleeding, so Greta removed the arrow head and stitched you up." Mary sat on the edge of the bed and began mixing a paste in a small bowl. "She's a smart lass, that niece of mine. Now, unbutton your nightgown, so I can apply this paste."

"What is that?" Snow unbuttoned her nightgown and removed the bandage slowly. She made a mental note to find Greta and thank her for her help.

"It is a plant called Yarrow; very good for these kinds of things. We managed to get you to swallow some after you were injured and that slowed down the bleeding. It also helps with the pain and quickens the healing by stopping infections."

Snow winced as Mary applied the paste. It was cold, but it felt wonderful against the blazing wound. "It sounds like a miracle plant." Snow managed to smile.

"I suppose it is," Mary replied gently. "You had a terrible fever for a few days. We were very worried about you, dear."

"Am I allowed to walk around?" Snow bit her lip as the maid retied her bandage. "I really need to stretch my legs."

Mary frowned at the young Queen. "I don't know, your Majesty; I would not advise it. But of course, I cannot stop you. If you wish, I will fix your hair and help you dress for when the Duke arrives. Is it too painful to sit up?"

"It hurts, but it is bearable."

Minutes later, Snow had covered her nightgown a long silk dressing gown and was getting her hair braided at her vanity table. "How did I get up here?" Snow asked Mary's reflection.

"Well, after the arrow hit, you must have fainted. Luckily Anna, Greta and I were close enough to catch you and some men carried you up here straight away. That Huntsman of yours caused quite a commotion trying to get to you, but he was held back and taken to the tower. I imagine Sir William was sent there soon after, but I didn't see."

"I cannot believe this has happened Mary. What must people think of me?"

"Oh, they think you are wonderful dear. Do you think that this little episode has them doubting you? Having two handsome men fighting over you like that isn't the end of the world darling. It's quite the village gossip." Mary sighed thoughtfully. "I would think you would be more concerned about being hit by an arrow."

There was a knock on the door then, and Mary squeezed Snow's shoulders. "I'm finished dear; you can let them in when you're ready." Mary placed the long braid over the Queen's shoulder and helped Snow stand slowly.

"Come in," Snow called.

Duke Hammond entered the room, and he seemed relieved as he looked the Queen over, but quickly put on a serious face. "Your Majesty, I trust you are feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you Duke. I'm terribly sorry about-"

"William filled me in; you needn't repeat what happened."

Snow swallowed and bit her lip. This wasn't what she had hoped for. "Mary, would you mind giving the Duke and I some privacy please." Mary nodded and bowed to Snow as she left the chamber.

"Would you like to sit with me Duke Hammond? I have something to discuss with you." Snow gestured towards the fireplace and the Duke helped the Queen walk over and sit down. The fire roared brightly in front of them.

"Go ahead, your Majesty," the Duke prompted.

"I would like Eric to be released from the tower immediately. William also," she added.

The Duke sighed and rubbed his forehead. Snow thought she saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "Forgive me if I seem irritable Your Majesty. This whole situation had rendered me sleepless. I hold most of the blame on William, of course, but since the public witnessed the display, I had to have them both imprisoned until you could pass judgement." The Duke leant forward and rubbed Snow's hand. "I thank you for forgiving my son."

Snow's mouth tightened. "I have not forgiven anyone, Duke Hammond, but I won't have them sitting in the tower." Snow looked down at her hands. "I fear it is my fault this whole thing happened. They were fighting because of me."

"May I speak freely, your Majesty?"

Snow looked up the Duke again. His eyes were soft, searching her own. "Of course."

"I do not know what your relationship is with the Huntsman, or even if there is one; it is none of my business. Though, I do get the feeling that you are both very close. After everything that you have been through together, it is not surprising. Of course, some part of me wishes that you and William would marry one day, but that is between you and him. I loved your mother and father very much and I love you also. You remind me so much of them. I know that it doesn't matter what I say, but your father would have told you to follow your heart, so that is what I am going to do." The Duke squeezed Snow's hand again. "I cannot replace him, but as his closest friend, I feel that it is my duty to care for you just as he would have done."

"Thank you, Duke Hammond. I am sorry about all of this."

"Don't worry yourself, child. Now, about my son and the Huntsman. You do not need my permission to release them, nor do you have to tell me you are going too. You are the Queen my dear, and this is your palace; you can do as you wish. There have been two guards positioned outside your door for your safety. All you must do is tell them what you want." The Duke stood slowly and kissed Snow's hand. Before leaving the chamber, he spoke once more. "Please inform Eric that I wish to speak with him. Our recent agreement needs discussing after this outburst. Good night, your Majesty."

Snow sat there for a moment, taking in everything the Duke had said. Agreement? What agreement? Never mind that now, she thought. Snow stood up slowly and fixed her black dressing gown. She had to get to the tower. Ignoring Mary's advice, Snow clenched her teeth, and marched out of her apartment and into the long corridor.

"Your Majesty," the two sentinels outside her door bowed before her. "Can we help you?"

"Can you please send word to the tower and have Sir William released." She paused for a moment before adding, "Please inform him that I don't wish to see him yet. I'll find him in my own time." One sentinel nodded and marched off quickly, leaving the other still guarding her door.

Snow closed the door and sighed. Sitting on one of the chaise lounges, she looked at the clock and waited.

When twenty minutes had passed, and Snow was sure William would have been released by then, Snow got up and went back to her door. The guard had already returned from the tower. "Was it done?" she inquired.

"Yes, your Majesty," the sentinel bowed his head. "Sir William has returned to the Duke's quarters."

"Thank you," she said. "If my maid returns, please tell her I'll be back soon."

She knew it seemed silly; wanting to release the huntsman herself, but it didn't feel right letting her sentinel do it. She wasn't quite ready to see William yet, which was why she'd sent a guard, but she felt like it was her fault the Huntsman was in this mess, and she wanted to have a private word to him before he was let out.

She followed the corridors all the way to the tower, which was in the west wing and started climbing the stairs; each step sending daggers into her stomach. Her forehead was damp, and she began to feel faint, but she continued to climb.

She reached the top of the stairs and the familiarity hit her. The stale smell, the darkness, the sound of dripping water; it made her feel nauseous. A sickly lump rose in her throat and she quickly forced it back down. She pushed forward, turned the corner and saw him. He was sitting on the cot in her old cell, resting his arms on his knees. Snow noticed he was holding one of the old dolls that she had made whilst she was a prisoner; the sight of him in there made the lump rise in her throat again. No, do not pity him just yet.

Snow walked over to the cell and held onto the bars for support. "Eric?" her voice was barely a whisper.

He looked up and relief hit him as he looked her over. Instead of running straight to her, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. For seven days he had sat in the cell wondering if he would ever see her again. He let out his breath and rested his head in his hands as he sat staring at the dirty ground. He closed his eyes and collected himself, pushing all previous thoughts of the unknown out of his mind.

Snow could see his shoulders relaxing as the tension escaped. The Huntsman looked up at her again after a few quiet moments and smiled once. He stood up slowly and walked over to the cell door. "Come to join the party, princess?" Behind his smile and laugh, Snow knew he must have been dying inside for all this time. How worried must he have been?

Even in dirty, blood stained clothes, he still looked as handsome as ever. Snow shook the thought from her head. Stand your ground. She put on a stern face. "You know why I'm here. And it's Queen to you, Huntsman."

Eric smiled again and bowed mockingly. "Forgive me, Yer Majesty."

"This is serious. Why did you do it, Eric? You disobeyed me and made me look like a fool in front of all those people; all over a few marks and an argument."

The Huntsman's smile faded. He growled and hit the bars in front of him, making Snow jump back startled. "That bastard got what he deserved! I will no' apologise for what I did!" His accent grew thicker when he got mad. His anger faded a little when Snow didn't say anything. He sighed deeply, irritated. "Are ye goin' to let me out or have ye just come to pester me like usual?"

Snow frowned at him. He looked every inch an angry hunter, and his accent always grew thicker when he was mad. Suddenly light headed, her head began to spin, and she gripped onto the bars for support. "Of course, I will release you, you damned brute! But if you want to stay in the palace you have to listen to me. You cannot run around throwing axes at everyone who upsets me. I won't stand for it, Eric."

Eric's eyes softened. "I know. I'm sorry." He reached through the steel bars and took hold of Snow's hands. She felt her stomach leap and her hand tingled. Why was it so hard to stay mad at him?

Snow called for the guards to release him, and a large man came around the corner with a set of keys and bowed low when he saw the Queen. The man quickly unlocked the cell door and disappeared, bowing again as he left.

The Huntsman pulled Snow into his arms as soon as he was free. She cried out as her stomach pressed against him.

"Are ye alright?" He let go of the Queen and cursed himself for grabbing her so quickly. "I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance."

Snow looked up at him. "I'm fine." But the pain in her face told the Huntsman otherwise.

"Ye're no' fine. Come." The Huntsman lifted Snow into his arms slowly and carried her down the tower stairs. He was dirty and smelt of dried blood and sweat but she didn't care. She clung to the Huntsman as he walked gently but swiftly through the palace.

He carried her swiftly all the way back to the Queen's Apartment, only putting her down before they reached the sentinels guarding her door.

Snow held Eric's arm as they entered her rooms and she felt him stiffen suddenly when they bumped into Mary and several other servants carrying large empty pails.

"Oh, there you are dear!" said the flustered maid, waving the servants out of the room. "I thought perhaps you'd like to take a bath, so I had one prepared for you." Her eyes darted to Eric and then back to Snow. "Will you be needing my services, or would you prefer to bathe alone?"

Snow blushed faintly. "I'll be fine, thank you Mary."

The maid nodded. "Well then, take your bath and off to bed with you dear, you need your rest." Mary glanced at the Huntsman again, but new better than to say anything. She bid them both goodnight and took her leave.

Snow sat slowly on her bed, wincing slightly. She caught Eric looking at her with pained eyes. "What's wrong?" Snow reached for his hand and he gave it a squeeze.

"I will stay in my own quarters tonight."

"What?" Snow's heart began to race. "What do you mean?"

"I dinnae want to cause more trouble. It doesna look good and ye don't need the stress right now. Ye still need to heal."

"I don't need the stress? You are stressing me out right now, Eric!" Snow couldn't believe this. "Please don't make this difficult."

The Huntsman clenched his teeth, "I'm no' making anything difficult! I'm trying no' to cause any more trouble."

"Please don't go. I'm tired and I'm annoyed and I just wanted to see you." Snow pulled on his arm, trying to tug him towards her. "Please just don't leave; you don't even have to touch me. Just don't leave me." Snow closed her eyes and blushed.

The Huntsman knelt beside the bed and rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. "I'm no' going to leave ye." His hands moved to her face and he kissed her softly. He moved his hands under her and lifted her off the bed. "Let's take a bath, aye?"

"Put me down, Eric. I can walk." Knowing full well that he wouldn't, Snow hugged his neck as he carried her through her bedchamber and into the washroom. He placed her down on a stool, ignoring the pain below his shoulder. William had re-opened the wound in the fight and the lack of attention in the tower had not done it any good. He thought he should probably clean it if it had any hope of healing properly. He turned to face the Queen as she sat on the stool. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

Before Snow had a chance to ask him where he was going, the hunter ran out of the washroom. Snow sighed and stared at the bath. Steam rose from the water and she groaned impatiently. The water looked heavenly. She dunked her hand in and quickly pulled it out. The water was still too hot, so she sat back on the stool and waited for the Huntsman to return.

When Eric returned, he had with him a large jar. She watched him empty some of the contents into the warm water and swirl around the water with his hand. The water had obviously cooled enough because he didn't wince at the temperature. "What is that?" she asked from her stool.

"Salt," he replied. "For yer wound. And mine," he added. He walked over to the Queen and helped her out of her dressing gown. Then he lifted her nightgown over her head and dropped it in a pile at her bare feet. The sudden exposure made Snow want to cover herself, but the Huntsman took hold of her hands and stopped her from doing so. She squirmed and felt her cheeks turning red again. Ignoring her display of embarrassment, the Huntsman leant forward and kissed her neck and collarbone softly. Quickly, he knelt in front of her and began to un-wrap the bandage from her middle. His hands were steady, and he took care in not touching the wound. When he was done, the Huntsman pulled Snow closer. Hugging her lower back, he put his lips to her stomach, kissing her just under her navel. She hugged him as he knelt before her, running her fingers through his hair. His breath was warm and steady against her bare stomach. They stayed like that for a short while, then the Huntsman stood and kissed the Queen once more on the mouth. "Get in."

Snow hurried for the large bath and got in, relieved that her body was no longer in full view. The Huntsman turned and headed for the door. "I thought you were going to bathe as well?" Snow called.

"I will bathe after ye. I am too dirty." The Huntsman grinned and closed the large washroom door.

Snow washed as quickly as she could. The warm salty water stung her wound fiercely at first, but it stopped after a moment. Climbing out of the bath was hard and painful but she was determined not to call the Huntsman for help. Snow found her silk robe and slipped it on, then found a comb and ran it through her hair. The Huntsman was sitting on the lounge staring into the fire when she walked out. "It's your turn, Huntsman."

The hunter walked into the washroom and began to remove his vest and shirt. Snow's stomach tingled at the sight of him. His strong chest was smothered in dry blood from his wound. It was red and looked so painful, yet he hardly seemed bothered by it. Snow walked over to her vanity table and found a needle and some sort of thread that must have been used for her own wound. When she returned to the washroom she walked over to the hunter. "Your wound needs to be stitched up again. I'll do it for you. Get in the bath so I can clean it first."

The Hunter grinned and did as he was told. "Aye, milady." Snow blushed and tried not to look as he slid into the water.

Snow grabbed a cloth from the basin cabinet and sat down on the edge of the bath. She soaked the cloth and began cleaning the deep cut.

"Do ye know what to do, lassie?" The huntsman smiled suspiciously.

Snow smiled. "My mother taught me to sow when I was a little girl. It can't be that different."

"Aye, of course it cannae be that different at all," he laughed, and Snow shrugged.

"I can call a physician if you prefer?"

"No, it'll be fine, go ahead." The hunter stared at the young Queen the whole time as she worked. She was quick with the needle and broke the thread with her teeth when she was done.

"There." Snow smiled at the Huntsman who grabbed her hand to stop her from getting up.

Eric kissed her softly. "Ye're so beautiful." Snow felt her body melt as his hands held her face to his. It took everything in her to stand up and leave the Huntsman to empty the bath and get dressed.

Snow walked over to her bed, picking up the bowl of yarrow paste that was left on her vanity by Mary. She sat down on the bed and began untying her robe, so she could reapply the paste.

The Huntsman walked out of the washroom only in his trousers. He placed his filthy shirt and vest on the chair by the fire, and went and sat next to Snow on the bed.

"Lie down." The Huntsman took the bowl from Snow and she did what she was told. He placed the bowl on the bed next to her and knelt in between her legs. He then began opening the top of her robe so he could apply the yarrow for her. Snow tensed as the Huntsman smeared the paste over the wound. He applied it as quickly and gently as he could, dabbed some on his own wound and placed the bowl on the floor when he was finished. He moved up the bed to lie beside Snow and moved a small strand of hair from her face.

"I wish those guards did not have to stand at my door. It isn't necessary," Snow yawned.

"Never mind them, Snow. It's for yer protection." The hunter ran his fingers gently over her skin, caressing every inch of her as she tried to concentrate on his touch instead of the wound.

"I already have enough protection." Snow kissed the Huntsman gently on the cheek and yawned again. Snow was suddenly very tired, and she felt her eyes drooping as she listened to the crackling fire and the wind blowing outside. The pain from her wound began to subside after a while and Snow drifted to sleep in her Huntsman's arms.

William emerged from his father's chamber in disbelief; his head throbbing from their argument. Angry was an understatement for how the Duke was feeling. William had half a mind to return to Stonehill. At least he'd be out of the way. Snow didn't want to see him, and his own father was almost ready to disown him for shooting the Queen. William winced. He'd thought about nothing else while he was locked in the tower. Part of him wished Snow had just left him up there to die. He deserved it. Shaking his head, William headed for the kitchen, hoping a drink would help numb the pain in his heart.

As he turned a corner on the way to the kitchen, William saw the Huntsman carrying Snow in his arms. His first impression was that something bad had happened, but then he noticed how Snow clung to the hunter with her face buried in his neck. He was carrying the Queen because of her injury. The injury that you caused, you fool. William stood peering around the corner and watched the Huntsman place the Queen on her feet and walk slowly towards her chamber. The both entered and shut the door behind them. William waited a moment to see if the Huntsman would emerge and return to his own quarters, but only servants appeared to leave the Queen's Apartment. William sighed and continued to the kitchen.

The corridor leading to the kitchen was hot and loud. The servants were still busy cleaning up after that evening's dinner. He pushed open the door and sat down at a large wooden bench at the back of the kitchen used for chopping vegetables. Servants moved around him, busily cleaning and preparing for the morning.

One young girl had noticed the Duke's son walk in and went over to where he sat. "Sir William? Can I get you anything, Sir?"

William looked up at the young girl. Her long hair hung in braids beside her delicate, fair face. He had seen the girl around the palace before, but he had never spoken to her. He cleared his throat. "I am sorry if I'm in the way. I would love a drink if it's not too much trouble. A strong one."

The young girl smiled. "Of course, Sir. No trouble at all." She turned away and hurried off. Moments later she returned with a large flask and a mug.

"Thank you." William reached for the flask and the girl curtsied and returned to cleaning.

A long while and an entire flask later, William woke up dazed. He looked around and found the young girl with the braids standing in front of him with a puzzled look in her face.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

William rubbed his face and looked around. He was still in the kitchen, although it was now quiet and only a few candles continued to burn. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

"Well you slept through quite a racket. It is quite noisy down here." The girl laughed and sat in the chair opposite him.

The girl looked at him curiously. "Are you alright, Sir? I saw that fight between you and the Huntsman the other day in the courtyard. You must have hurt him, he was in here before looking for some salt."

William sighed and rested his cheek on his hand. "I doubt he is hurt very much. It is the Queen I'm more concerned about."

The girl smiled softly. "I'm sure the Queen will be just fine. I helped carry her up and stitch her wound." She reached for the mug and flask. "The Queen knows you would never purposely hurt her like that." The girl walked over to the basin and put the mug and flask down. "If you don't need anything else, Sir, I will retire for the night."

"I don't," William shook his head. "What's your name, girl?" he asked her as she went to leave.

The young girl turned to face him once more. "Greta, Sir." She smiled and walked out of the kitchen as William stared after her.