Kindred

Chapter Two

Although these are more or less one-shots, I figured they'd be better off kept together. Each princess will get a focus chapter, at least one. You can always help me choose who goes next by commenting.

Note: This is an obligatory suggestion that if you enjoy my work you may enjoy the novel I've published on Kindle: The Hothouse Princesses by S.A. Hemstock. Supporting my original work means I get to create more fanwork. (But it's by no means a requirement, so enjoy either way!)

…..

I must be a good girl.

The mantra was a constant, from as far back as she could remember. It started back when her mother was still alive, so beautiful and good and beloved that she wanted to be just like her.

I must be a good girl.

In the days after the death of the queen, when the king was so lost in grief and the princess' own tears seemed to distress him even more, she quelled her upset to spare him.

I must be a good girl.

When he remarried, and her stepmother was so beautiful but so cold, and seemed to brush her away like a disgusting insect on the hem of her gown, and her father wanted so much for them to love each other she crushed her unhappiness down as far as it would go and smiled, to make him happy (though it never made her happy.)

I must be a good girl.

Her father died, and the queen was too focused on her own fading beauty to notice her tiptoeing around the castle, trying to put on a brave face so as not to trouble anyone. When the queen did notice her, and told the princess that she needed to do more to help her, she agreed.

I must be a good girl.

She was given rags to wear and the dirtiest jobs to do, the jobs only the lowliest of scullery maids were given, and the humiliation and exhaustion burned itself into the core of her, she cried in her sleep because she was not conscious to stop herself. She smiled and sang as she worked, because what else could she do?

I must be a good girl.

…..

"Do you think she'll notice?" Snow said, holding up one of Rapunzel's gowns to the light. A pale blue blotch still marked the hem.

"I wouldn't worry," Cinderella replied. "She knows what happens when the paint is too wet, it's not our fault we couldn't get it all out."

They were on laundry duty that week, and it suited Cinderella to the ground. She seemed to like housework, although she sometimes got a little too focused on random stains and marks. The fact that she was so blasé about a paint splotch was a good sign.

"But...won't she be upset?" Snow asked.

Cinderella fixed her with a strange look, the one she got a lot from the other princesses. What was behind that look she had yet to figure out.

"I don't think she'll even notice," Ella laughed at last. "Let's just hang them out and be done with it so we can have tea in the kitchen."

Just as they were coming in from the garden, Merida and Pocahontas arrived back from God knows where. Pocahontas bid them a quiet greeting and wandered off, leaving damp bare footprints in the carpet, but Merida (whose gown was covered in mud and had at least one busted seam) started pulling off her clothes in the doorway.

"Can I give you these?" she said, tossing her gown and stockings in Cinderella's general direction. She thanked them without waiting for a response and wandered into the castle in her undergarments.

"I don't think I even want to know what they've been up to," Ella groaned, gingerly picking up the muddy gown.

"Pocahontas didn't look nearly as dirty though," Snow chimed in.

"Well, when your dress is that short it's hard to get too messy," Jasmine quipped.

Ella and Snow jumped. When had Jasmine appeared?

"I suppose," Snow agreed, scrutinizing Jasmine's satisfied smile.

"I'm always saying you should make the gowns a little shorter, here at least," Jasmine explained. "Then we wouldn't have so much laundry."

"For the last time, stop walking around in your undergarments!" they all heard someone cry from upstairs. It sounded like Belle.

Jasmine sighed.

"I live in hope," she said before walking away.

…..

I must be a good girl.

I must not make trouble for anyone.

Calling for help counted as making trouble, in Snow's mind. Her idea had been to gather some wildflowers after hearing Tiana complain that the kitchen looked dreary, but she had followed a crop of bluebells right across the river, been spooked by a running fox and was now lost.

Again.

She had promised herself she wouldn't get lost any more, not after being found so many times by either Merida or Pocahontas on their rambles and having them escort her back home. But it was harder than she expected, every time. These particular woods were awfully dark and deceptive with how deep they were. The trees grew close together and there were no clear paths.

How do those two manage it?

At least the animals were friendly. She could feel beady little eyes looking at her in the darkness. She'd always managed to endear herself to animals, more so than humans. (Though she loved her husband, and the dwarves, and her princess friends very much.)

She had just coaxed a bluebird onto her hand and was asking it for directions when she felt the distinct prickle of human presence behind her.

"Oh, Snow. Again?"

She crumpled on the inside at the tone of Pocahontas' voice. She sounded...disappointed? Frustrated? Annoyed? But it was accompanied by a warm chuckle.

"I didn't mean it," she said quietly. "I was picking wildflowers and a fox gave me a fright...but I'll be okay, I'll be on my way out soon, so don't worry..."

"I'll walk with you," Pocahontas said smoothly. "I was just about to return myself."

Snow felt awful. Clearly Pocahontas had no intention of going home just yet but felt obligated to help Snow out of the forest. Her stepmother's voice, unbidden, echoed in her head.

You're not a child anymore, don't expect me to hold your hand.

Funny, she had been just twelve years old when the queen said those words. Looking back, she was still very much a child.

Pocahontas was quiet as always, deftly stepping over roots and under branches and offering a hand to help Snow past the difficult places, a hand Snow was reluctant to take. She brought their journey to a brief halt, in front of an enormous tree with vast twisted branches.

"The forests are so different here," Pocahontas murmured, more to herself than to Snow.

"Really? How so?" Snow asked.

"Back home, the trees are very straight," she explained, walking away from the large tree back to the trail. "They go on forever, but you can see through them on a clear day. The trees here grow into each other. It is strange, but I like it."

"Is that why you're always in here?" Snow asked. She had that prickly sense that she was asking too much, she was making trouble, but this was the most words Pocahontas had ever spoken to her and she wanted it to continue.

"I suppose," Pocahontas chuckled. "Though back home I was always in the forest as well. My father despaired of me...he wanted to know why the spirits had given him a deer instead of a daughter."

"The first time I ended up in the forest I was so scared," Snow blurted out. "I thought all the trees were trying to kill me."

Pocahontas stopped in her tracks and looked back at her, half-concerned and half-amused.

"They do look like they're reaching out, don't they?" she murmured, stroking the jagged branch of a nearby chestnut. "But a tree will never wish any harm upon you, unless you wish harm upon it. Trees are protectors of man."

Snow had heard whispers of Pocahontas' strange ways, how she worshiped trees and soil and that was why she never wore shoes. In the castle, it sounded ridiculous, but in the forest the trees suddenly seemed to hum with life. She hadn't thought of it before, but in a way her fear of the trees had lead her directly to the dwarves, her protectors.

"If you put your trust in the trees, they will never allow you to be lost," Pocahontas continued, holding a branch out of Snow's way. "They lead you to me, didn't they?"

They had.

…..

After dropping her off at the castle, Pocahontas turned around and walked straight back into the forest. Regardless of what she had said, Snow really had caused trouble for her.

I must be a good girl.

Rapunzel and Anna were playing badminton on the lawn, Mulan and Jasmine watching them from a spread rug. Rapunzel kept tripping over her own hair and Anna her own feet, but they were howling with laughter and covered with grass stains.

More laundry.

But that was a good thing; it would keep her busy and keep her out of trouble. When the week was up she'd have to find some other task to keep busy with.

"Snow!" Jasmine called from the rug and beckoned her over. "Come join us!"

Truthfully, Snow found Jasmine and Mulan to be rather intimidating. Mulan was nice enough but full of stories of fighting men with swords that left Snow feeling a little breathless. Jasmine was almost too nice, and had a way of looking at someone from head to toe that made Snow feel squirmy (although it didn't seem to bother anyone else.)

Nevertheless, she joined them.

"Who's winning?" she asked politely.

"No idea," Jasmine shrugged. "I don't think either have scored a proper point."

"I'd know if I understood the game," Mulan sighed. "It just looks like a lot of jumping and screaming to me."

Just then, the game was interrupted by a plainly furious Tiana. She was holding the molasses pot in one arm and a sticky spoon in the other.

"Who did this?" she bellowed with impressive force.

"Good Lord, did someone finish the entire pot?" Jasmine asked innocently, scrunching up her nose with delicate distaste.

"It wasn't me," Rapunzel claimed, unwrapping her racket from her hair. "That stuff gets in my hair, you know that!"

"Me either!" Anna blurted, but her face looked suspiciously red.

"Well, it was one of you!" Tiana shouted, dangling the spoon between two fingers. "It was full this morning and everyone else is out, so it had to have been one of you!"

"Count me out," Mulan shrugged. "I hate molasses."

"I only like a little with my tea," Jasmine chipped in, stirring her tiny cup with an equally tiny spoon.

Tiana was now glaring hard at Anna, who was very obviously the culprit (and whose sister wasn't around to defend her, even if she'd wanted to.) A flustered Anna pointed in Snow's direction.

"Snow was here this morning," she said. "Have you asked her?"

"No, and you know why?" Tiana said smoothly, putting down the pot and throwing a motherly arm around Snow's shoulders. "Because, unlike the rest of you, Snow is a good girl!"

It was so unexpected to hear it said, out loud, even with sarcasm, that a little something burst inside Snow. She tried to stop herself but it was no good. She wailed suddenly, startling them all, and sobbed into Tiana's arm.

"Okay fine, it was me," Anna admitted, sheepishly.