Three months passed quietly, and with each day, Snow White grew more beautiful, her pale skin strangely retaining its fair tone, despite her being out in the sun more often.
True to his word, 21 had brought the girl to the meadow every day, sometimes in the morning, sometimes before sunset. Each day he would ask her if she loved him, and she would always reply that she did, though it was never in the way that he had wished her to. Still, 21 did not lose hope that one day Snow White would come to realize how he truly felt about her. She was still young, after all and so full of life. He remembered the day he had seen her painting in his room, her eyes alight with joy and her cheeks flushed with avidity to capture the world around her on the page. He had never quite gotten around to asking her why she had chosen to sketch him that day, and in truth, he was afraid of her answer.
He had gathered up his courage to proclaim his love for the girl solely because of that sketch. It had given him the notion that he was special in her heart, that she felt more strongly for him than she did for the others. He had allowed himself to entertain the thought that she loved him, but that had all been shattered the day he had first brought her to his meadow. He was too shy to ask her now, because then she would know that he had been watching her.
Snow White did not act any differently towards 21 after their little adventure to the beautiful meadow, and if she did, it wasn't of any significance. She truly was innocent in her thoughts, as if she had the mind of a mere child, newly born. In a sense, she had just been born because her lost memories held her understanding of what true love was. It was something that could not be taught, one could only truly know when and if one experienced it for oneself.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
One day, as Snow White was sweeping the ashy floorboards of the little cottage and the brothers had just left for the mines, she heard a large thump at the door. She jumped a bit, though she did not utter a sound, and wondered if it were one of the dwarves. However, they always knocked or poked their heads through the window, not this strange thump. Presently, the girl heard moaning from the other side of the door and she grew worried; someone was clearly injured. Softly she put down her broom and rushed to the door. It creaked open noisily, but slowly, for she was afraid of who or what might be waiting for her.
The moaning grew fainter and she opened the door all the way. Snow White's eyes widened in surprise and her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she stepped back. It was a man, and he appeared to be unconscious. He was nothing like the men she had lived with for the past four months, this man was tall, it seemed that he was much taller than she was. She could tell, even though he was lying on the floor. His face was angular and smooth, his chin clean, without any facial hair, and his eyebrows were straight and dark. She was not sure what his face usually looked like, for at that moment, he was wincing, as if in pain, the expressions marring his features. He had wildish thick hair as black as her own, though it was now plastered to his face as he sweat from some sort of fever.
Snow White didn't have time to take his physical traits all in for the man was in need of assistance. She knelt quickly and slipped her small arms beneath his and dragged him to the rug on near the hearth. He moaned slightly at her motions, though his eyes remained closed. Grabbing a soft pillow from a nearby armchair, Snow White tenderly placed it beneath his head, and after making sure he was comfortable, she hurried to the kitchen to wet a clean rag to place over his forehead.
The duty of caring for the man took her mind off what she was feeling at the moment, but her thoughts kept jumbling inside her head, a maze of confusion and excitement forming. From what she could tell, the young man had no clear physical injuries. She frowned, not knowing what to do. Sighing, she sat herself down next to him, brushing back his hair to see his soft face better. He was very handsome, now that he wasn't wincing anymore. His features had relaxed a little after being set down to rest and being cooled off by a wet cloth.
The man was dressed in fine clothes, intricately decorated with leafy patterns. Though his attire seemed more like that of a woodsman's, with large brown boots and an open flannel white shirt. It seemed very casual, as if he were out for a ride, but the finery of the material could not be mistaken.
Snow White wasn't sure what to make of the man, though she knew she could not tear her gaze away from him. His beauty was mesmerizing, his presence in the cottage giving it a completely different atmosphere than any of the dwarves ever did. He looked strong, and young and gentle, but most of all, he looked vibrant. Though he was gravely ill and his lips trembled slightly, he was still throbbing with life. It suddenly made Snow White realize how the dwarves did not look as lively. Certainly they were alive, but there was an aura of stillness about them, as if time slowed and refused to continue around them. This young man was as bright as she was, at least in the way things felt around him. She could not explain what she felt at all.
The girl found herself blushing now, wanting to help the man and wanting to touch him again. Slowly her white hand reached out towards his face and hovered above his lips. Suddenly there was a sound near the doorway. In her haste she had forgotten to shut it, and now there was a shadow across the threshold. It was another man, panting from having run from afar. It took him a moment to catch his breath and he glanced around the room and suddenly his eyes fell upon the unconscious man. He gasped, "My Prince!" and stumbled into the living room, unbidden.
Snow White backed out of the way as the man rushed towards the figure laying on the floor. "Oh my Prince, I have found you at last!" He said, out of breath. "But what's this? You are hurt? Why do you not awaken at the sound of your servant's voice?" he wondered aloud. It was then that he turned towards Snow White, his intense gaze causing her to tremble.
"Do you live here, dear?" He questioned. She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment. This man, too, was handsome, though in a different way. There was an air of danger about him that she did not like, and it made her nervous. "Do you live here…alone?" he ventured again, staring at her as if she were a magical creature who might disappear any second. She shook her head in small, rapid motions, her unbound hair swaying as she did so.
He raised an eyebrow warily, "Can't you speak?" and she swallowed and said, "Yes, sir, I'm sorry, I'm just a bit frightened." At hearing the sound of her voice the man breathed. "You do not need to be afraid of me, dear," he said softly, soothingly, "I will not harm you. You have taken my Prince in and cared for him." The man gave her a reassuring smile and rose.
In truth, he was not an extremely tall man, but she could not have known this, because to her, he towered above everything. He began walking towards her, his eyes lowering to look down at the frightened girl. "Beautiful," he murmured, "What a beautiful girl you are. What is your name?" and he continued to gaze at her, as if under a spell. He was close enough to reach out and touch her now, but he didn't. Snow White could not find her voice for a moment and she looked up at him helplessly, blushing.
He chuckled a bit, "You are so shy, and timid. Well, I can start first then. I am called Galvin. What are you called, dear?" Snow White found herself feeling very uncomfortable with the man. It was not because he was so close to her, but because he did not appear to be worried about the young man lying on the floor anymore. At first he had seemed blatantly concerned, but upon discovering the young man was unconscious, he had completely forgotten about him and was now focusing intently on her.
"I, I'm," she stammered. The man smiled widely and there was a glint in his eye, as if he were enjoying her timidity. He reached out his hand to touch her dark hair, but before he could, there was a moan from the floor and a clear voice murmured, "Galvin?"
The young man had awoken, and was now sitting up, his eyes still closed and his hand rubbing at his head. Galvin began rushing towards his prince, but not before giving Snow White one last assertive glance and wily smile. She shivered.