Disclaimer: Digimon and all fairy tales used in this fic do not belong to me.
Knights of the Round Table
By: RaspberryGirl
The dwarves led Matt away from the cottage and through the forest. They followed a roughly cut trail out of the wood and arrived at the bottom of a grassy hill.
A thought suddenly occurred to Matt. "Say..." He tried to sound casual. "I wonder what happened to my horse? Did you...er, dwarves ever find one wandering in the wood recently?"
"Oh," John answered. "As a matter of fact, we did. A gray stallion, right? Found it and took care of it while you were unconscious. Figured it belonged to you."
"I see," Matt mumbled. "So where is it now?"
"In the stable at the back of the cottage," replied Wort. "Currently, you don't need it."
Matt decided to shut up and followed the dwarves obediently as they climbed up the gently sloping hill. Just before they reached the top, something shiny caught Matt's eye. As they came closer, Matt realized with astonishment that the object was a beautiful glass coffin. Inside rested a girl—presumably the dwarves' princess.
"There she is," Martin said in a low voice. "The princess. Go on, lad, take a closer look."
Matt took a few steps forward while the dwarves observed the scene from behind him. The coffin was exquisite; made of gold and silver with a lid of transparent glass. On the side of the coffin were inscribed the words:
Snow White
Our Beloved Princess, May She Rest in Peace
"Snow White?" Matt wondered what mother in her right mind would name their kid that. "That's a strange name."
"Well, it is rather uncommon," Richard agreed. "But it suits her."
"Does it?" Matt asked skeptically. The young knight glanced at the girl inside the coffin and caught his breath.
The girl looked no older than sixteen. Her skin was pale, as white as winter snow. It didn't even look unnatural—like a death pallor, even though she was dead—but more like the delicate paleness of a noblewoman. The girl's cheeks were still rosy, and her lips were still as red as blood. Long, straight hair the color of ebony surrounded the girl's face. The princess's clasped hands rested gently on her breast. In all entirety it really did seem like the girl was in a deep, peaceful slumber rather than death.
"How long has she been dead?" Matt whispered.
"Three months," Henry replied.
"It's a pity," Matt murmured. "I wish there were something I could do."
"But there is," interrupted Richard. "That's why we brought you here."
"Huh?" Then Matt remembered. "Oh right! The kiss thing. So can I?" In his mind, Matt had already convinced himself that waking this princess with a kiss didn't mean he had to marry her. Matt was a knight and he couldn't just walk away when a girl needed his help—especially when the girl happened to be a princess and a very pretty one at that.
"Yes, of course. You may kiss the princess," Martin said, "but first, we would like to ask you some questions."
"Questions?" Matt looked confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Well," Martin said almost apologetically, "We want the princess to be awakened by someone she could fall in love with. I mean, if we were desperate, we could have just grabbed any common idiot who happened to wander into the Greenwood, have him kiss her, and wake her up."
"But we decided we wanted someone handsome, romantic, and kind for our princess," Richard explained.
"How do you know that I'm 'romantic and kind'?" Matt asked. He left out "handsome" because he figured that was a given. "And how do you know that's the kind of person the princess likes?"
"The answer to your first question is we don't," Martin said patiently. "That's why we're going to ask you a few questions. If the results turn out badly...I wish you good luck with the next princess. But if the results are good, you may kiss her. And as for your second question...before the princess was killed, she talked a lot about her ideal prince so we have a pretty good idea what sort of young man would suit her." Martin gave Matt a smile that seemed too big for the little man's face. "Shall we begin?"
Matt sighed. What harm could there be in answering a few questions? He'd let the dwarves have their fun. "Fine."
"Splendid!" Looking pleased, Martin reached into a hidden pocket of his vest and pulled out a pair of spectacles and a rolled sheet of parchment. "Now," Martin said to the other dwarves, "all of us hereby agree that the questions on this parchment will be the official ones that will determine who can kiss the princess in an attempt to wake her?"
The dwarves crowded around Martin and scanned the questions quickly. Finally, the little men replied, "Yes, yes, these are the ones! Proceed!"
Martin unfastened the tie around the parchment and let the end of the paper drop. The parchment fell to the grass and rolled for two feet or so before stopping. Matt's eyes bulged. He had hoped the questions would only take a short time, but after seeing that list, he'd probably be there all week.
Looking dignified, Martin cleared his throat. "All right. Question number one: what are your two favorite colors?"
"Er...Green and silver," Matt said.
Martin paused and looked back at Richard who seemed to be taking notes of Matt's answers. The little man wrote at a furious pace as if Matt had just spouted some long, philosophical answer. After waiting a few more moments, Martin continued on.
"Question two: what is your favorite fruit?"
"Um, peaches."
"Question three: what feature on a young woman do you find most attractive?"
"I'd say..." Matt searched for an answer. "Eyes."
"Good answer," Martin approved. "Question four..."
And so it went. It was early afternoon when Martin neared the end of the list of questions. By that time, Matt's head was spinning from so many of them.
"Question one hundred and fifty: Do you have a stepmother?"
"No," Matt answered immediately. His mouth was getting dry.
"Question one hundred and fifty-one: If you were a prince and had to punish an evil woman who had harmed your beloved, what would you do?"
"What do you mean?" Matt asked. "Is this multiple choice like question ninety-four: when someone tells you must 'rescue a princess,' what first comes to your mind? A: you must fight a dragon; B: you must fight an evil sorcerer; C: you must find and kiss the princess who is probably in an enchanted sleep; D: you must find and undo the spell cast on the princess that has changed her into some sort of woodland animal; or E: you must keep the princess from marrying an ugly goblin?"
"Yes," Martin answered. "It's like ninety-four. Here are your choices. A: you exile her from the kingdom; B: you cleverly ask the evil woman what punishment she would give to someone who had committed her crime and punish her by whatever she comes up with; C: you make her dance in iron shoes until she drops dead; or D: you do nothing and forget about the evil woman.
"C," Matt said. "C sounds good."
"Good reply. You're almost done, my boy," Martin said encouragingly. "Just a couple more questions."
"Wonderful. Fantastic," Matt rasped. His tongue felt like sandpaper.
"Question one hundred and fifty-two: what's one plus one?"
"Huh?" Matt was caught off guard. "Two?"
"Very good!" Martin beamed. "We had to make sure you had at least some brains. We can't really marry the princess to some village nitwit with no common sense. It's nothing personal, really. Anyway, moving right along..."
How about you just keep your precious princess and not marry her to anyone—especially not me—so I can get out of here, Matt thought vehemently.
"Question one hundred and fifty-three: what is one plus five times forty- eight divided by twelve squared?"
"Ah..." Matt tried to see the problem in his head but he couldn't do it. The numbers kept on slipping and moving.
Suddenly, Martin burst out laughing. "Just joking! I got you!" The other dwarves began laughing, too. "That was only a joke!" Martin managed, holding his sides and still choking with laughter. "A joke! Come on, don't look so tense."
Matt stared at Martin. He didn't think that was funny at all.
Wheezing and panting, Martin finally calmed down and his face became serious. "This is it, my boy. You're at the last question. And I must say this is the hardest of them yet. Are you ready?"
"Yes, yes." Impatience shook every corner of Matt's voice.
"The real question one hundred and fifty-three is: Do you think you can love our princess and live with her happily ever for the rest of your days?"
Matt opened his mouth but no answer came out.
"Well?" Martin frowned at Matt's hesitation.
"I...that is...what I mean to say is...." Matt fumbled for the right words.
The seven dwarves eyed him sternly as if daring him to say "no."
"Whatever you answer," Richard said softly, "there is no turning back."
Matt swallowed and took a deep breath. "Yes! I mean, no! Wait, I—" Matt paused and looked down at the grass. "My final answer—and I should have told all of you from the beginning—is...no. I—I can't do it. I can't love Snow White."
There was a shocked silence among the dwarves.
"Wh-what?" Martin sputtered. "Why this all of a sudden? You were so close and yet..." He trailed off. "Why?"
Matt managed a dry laugh. "It wouldn't have settled with my conscience, I guess. Tricking a bunch of dwarves, stealing their princess, having them believe I could love her when I know I can't." The knight stopped to swallow again, trying to gather moisture in his mouth.
Finally, to Matt's relief, Martin signaled for Wort to bring a waterskin to Matt. The knight clutched the waterskin to his mouth and drank ravenously. He didn't stop until every last drop had been emptied.
"Thank you," Matt said, handing the empty pouch back to Wort. He turned to the rest of the dwarves. "I'm sorry."
"That's all right," Stephen said, sighing. "At least you told the truth in the end." The dwarf heaved another great sigh. "And you were doing so exceptionally well on the questions, too."
"I was?" Matt thought he had failed that question thing completely.
"Yes," Martin agreed, "but it's not important now. Let's be off, everyone. Come on, show's over. Let's all get back to the cottage." Martin turned to Matt. "You, as well. After all, you don't want to wander through the Greenwood without a horse, do you?"
That was an unpleasant thought so Matt followed silently after the dwarves. He felt a little guilty, having let the little men down.
But he was sure he had made the right choice.
The dwarves set Matt on his way as soon as the group reached the cottage.
Wort brought out Matt's horse and mumbled his regards to the young knight. The other dwarves said their good-byes to Matt as well. It went something like:
"May good fortune shine on you."
"Better luck with the next princess. Maybe."
"Good luck on your travels, boy. And don't listen to Martin. If you ever change your mind and the princess is still here, you can always come back."
"Have fun on your journey. Don't get yourself killed."
"Make it safely out of the wood. Remember: don't listen to those annoying fairies!"
"Yes, about that." Martin pushed his way to the front. "Listen to me carefully. Ride in a straight path through this wood and you'll make it out alive. No matter what signs come up telling you to go left or right, no matter who seems to be beckoning to you, no matter how bad your desires become—never ever listen to the Greenwood!"
"I won't," Matt assured. He mounted his horse. "Well, goodbye."
"Goodbye and good luck," Martin called as Matt flicked the reins. "Oh, I forgot to tell you—don't look back!"
Author's Note: I must confess...I took the name "Wort" from Disney's Sword in the Stone. And don't ask me why the rest of the dwarves have such formal names. It sort of...turned out that way.