When the time for her afternoon ride arrived she sprinted to the stable and was impatiently tapping her foot as the stable boy saddled Ragnfridr. She wanted to be out riding not waiting to be allowed. She had come to a begrudged agreement with the Duke that each day she had a few hours to herself that she spent riding across her land. Both William and the Duke hated the idea of the Queen being out on her own, but since everywhere she went she brought life and sunlight, she didn't think that she needed guards. If she was robbed or hurt, she would know she was not doing enough and would redouble her efforts until all was healed across the whole Kingdom. She had fought the pair tooth and nail until they had allowed her the time to be on her own to think in a place other than her bed chamber when the day was done.

When the stable boy was finally finished she leapt on to the back of her mere without a hand up and rode out of the portcullis and on to the beach with purpose she was going to find this widower and find out if it was her Huntsman, her Eric, her everything. The waves racing towards the beach splashed up from Ragnfridr's hooves soaking the hem of her gown, but she paid it no mind. Eric had seen her in a worse state. A little mud, sand and water were not going to make that much difference. She followed the coastline as Rose and Anna had told her to until she could see the thick forest darkening the horizon and she turned inland a little way. She had been riding for over an hour and finally she saw it a small hatched farmhouse on the edge of the forest no less than a mile from the steep drop of the cliffs. As she approached she slowed not wanting to startle the occupant of the farmhouse if it wasn't Eric who resided there.

"Hello?" she called out as she reached the side of the farmhouse, "Please is anyone there, my horse has thrown a shoe and I would be grateful if I could let her rest in your stables if that is all right." She jumped off her horse and led Ragnfridr to the stable on the other side of the farmhouse where only silence reigned; maybe Rose and Anna had got the wrong farmhouse; it wasn't as if Snow had pressed either of them for their supposed source. She pushed the stable door open and saw a black stallion in the corner stall. As she looked at him it was the strangest thing she could almost be sure that she knew that horse, she led Ragnfridr to the stall next to the stallion's and he turned to her his dark eyes hidden in his mane,

"Adahy," she whispered and he whinnied at her bringing his head forward to touch hers lightly, "You are far more majestic in real life." She said as she ran her hand over his neck feeling the power that resided just beneath the surface, in many ways he was just like Eric.

"If you were planning on stealing my horse I wouldn't advise it little girl, he is not to be toyed with." The voice made her jump, but when she realised who it was she felt a heady mix of joy and love. After all this time she had found him and as always he had been right under her nose. She turned from his horse and looked to the man stood in the doorway of the stable. She couldn't help it her heart thundered in her chest and she could feel the colour rise in her cheeks. His face blanched for a second and Snow became worried,

"It really is you." He whispered only half believing his words, "I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but no you are really here." Snow felt a cold rush and then thought what if he had spent the last year just drinking in his farmhouse, could she really talk sense to him then? But she needn't have worried as he quickly closed the gap between them and she could see his eyes were clear and there was no stumble in his step. He cupped her face in his callused hands as if to confirm she was real. "It really is you Snow." He said his face breaking in to the tenderest of smiles. At the use of her given name her stomach did a little flip flop and the colour on her cheeks rose higher. She leant in to his touch and felt it melt her to her very soul; it was the warmest she had felt in months. He dropped his hands from her face and grabbed her hand pulling her out of the stable.

"How is it that you are here?" he asked as he pushed open the door to the farmhouse.

"I came to find you." She stated feeling the answer was rather obvious. He turned to her his brow furrowed.

"Why?" his lack of concern for himself made her bristle.

"You left on the day of my coronation and didn't tell me where you were going, you never wrote to tell me you were alright. I have spent this last year trying to find you praying you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere or sat in some tavern drinking away all the gold you were forced to take. I wanted to know you were all right... I wanted to see if you were happy." Her voice faltered on the last line and Eric caught it; he looked down at her ring finger and saw it was absent of any form of attachment. He had thought that she would have married William by now or at least been betrothed to the wet faced whelp. It seemed that this was not the case. Could he dare to hope?

He had been sat whittling his most recent chess piece for an old man in the hamlet two miles from his farmhouse when he had heard her voice. He knew who it was straight away, but he hadn't dared to believe it. He didn't get all the news from the palace as far removed from the world as he was, but he knew that his Queen had rose to the occasion and was pulling the world they inhabited out of the darkness. He knew she was busy so why would she be out here twenty miles from the palace at the farmhouse of a common Huntsman?

Curiosity though had gotten the better of him and hearing the visitor enter the stable he followed them and saw a girl at least five years his junior petting Adahy his stallion, her raven black hair cascading down her back like an ebony waterfall, her blood red gown hugging her delicate frame making her look as breakable as china. When she had turned at the sound of his voice and he had seen her face he could barely believe it her wide brown eyes stared at him as her rose red lips opened slightly to draw in a deep breath. She was perfect like a porcelain doll; her creamy white skin now freckled across the bridge of her nose from her time in the open air. He saw her pupils dilate and the flush rise in her cheeks and he didn't know if it was because she was caught red handed or from the joy that he could see dancing behind her eyes. Whatever the cause it only made her lovelier and for the first time in months he would admit it; as much as he would always love Sara he had fallen in love with Snow White and he was not ashamed of it.

"I'm happy." He replied finally and Snow let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, "Would you like anything? I can only imagine that you rode here from the palace." She shook her head not wanting to inconvenience him. He smiled again and moved over to the stove placing a large black kettle on the flame. "Please sit." He said motioning to one of the chairs at the small table. She did as he asked and slid in to the chair picking up the figure that was laid on top of all the wood shavings. She turned the figure in her hands smoothing over the edges following the way he had carved the item with such care.

"It's a knight is it not?" she asked as she placed it back on the table, Eric looked at her and nodded.

"It's a commission." He said with a shrug placing a large trunk on the table and opening it for her. She stood up to look inside to see all of the other chess pieces from the set. The King was Triton the old God of the sea with his tail wrapped around the base; in one hand he had his trident that pointed outward to the invisible opponent across the board and in the other his conch shell partially raised to his lips, the detail was exquisite and Snow realised that Eric could still continually surprise her. She took in all the other pieces that were lying in the trunk with a mixture of his tools; the Queen was a figure head from the bow of a ship her hands out to the heavens her long hair lost in the wood and her eyes beseeching the Gods for what Snow could only think was safe passage. The rooks were lighthouses; that had once stood majestically on the cliffs, but were now no more than a memory to most of the inhabitants of the Kingdom. It was the Bishop that had her confused, it looked to be a man his legs lost in the stand of the piece his arms crossed at his chest a Tricorne perched on his head. His clothes were studded with what looked like pock marks until Snow picked up the piece and looked closer at it and realised they were barnacles like the ones that marred the cliff face next to the Palace, his beard was made of plaited seaweed and his eyes were shrewd and blank; his mouth turned up in a sneer. She looked up at Eric still holding the piece,

"I know he is the Bishop, but who is he?" she asked as she sat down again a pawn in the opposite hand to the Bishop. The pawn was a small fishing boat and Eric had made sixteen replicates of the one she was holding one in honey coloured wood the other in the darkest wood she had ever seen and knew from her father's stories that it was Ironwood.

Eric poured the water that had boiled in to a large pot and brought it to the table with two earthenware mugs and sat down.

"There is a legend in these parts, mainly old wives tales and navy men's superstition that there was once a ship that ran aground not far from the palace near the rock labyrinth. All the men on the ship were lost, but it's said before the captain died the God of the sea gave him the choice, if he would transport the lost souls of the sea to the underworld his crew would find peace. So being the benevolent man that he was he took that burden and freed his men." Snow watched as his face darkened a little, but whatever morose idea that passed through his mind was gone as quickly as he had thought of it. Snow placed the lovingly crafted pieces back on the table and spoke up,

"It's beautiful." She murmured, "I never thought that such rough hands could create something so delicate," she finished laughing in spite of herself. Eric grinned and poured the tea in to the large mugs passing her one,

"I wasn't always such a brute my Queen." He told her taking a swig of his tea, Snow sipped at the hot liquid letting it slide down her throat and warm her from the inside. "When I was younger and my father was teaching me how to hunt he taught me how to find the beauty in the wood when we were waiting for the prey. Some days we were tracking for days and days; the time would drag so I learnt pretty fast how to occupy my time." He took another swig of his tea and put the mug on the table picking up the piece and his knife taking it to the wood and peeling away another layer from the mane. Snow watched him as he turned the wood carefully between his fingers his eyes fixed on the piece before him. She had never seen him so still and peaceful, but as much as she thought it would unnerve her to see him this way it didn't. If she hadn't seen him in battle swinging his hatchets she wouldn't have believed it was even possible that were two distinctly different sides to this man.

She looked back at the Bishop and realised that his mouth was not set in a sneer, but was set in a way that showed he was a man determined to do what he had to no matter the cost; a look that Snow White herself knew very well.

He could feel her eyes on him watching every move he made and he liked it; had it been anyone else he would have felt uncomfortable, but Snow's eyes were a gentle caress over his face, his arms and his hands. He had never thought the talent that he had nurtured as a child would come to anything in the end, but when he had left the coronation and moved to this farmhouse he had picked up the wood again turning it in to cups, bowls and ornaments to sell at the market two towns over even though he didn't need the money. Soon he was being requested to make special order items and he began a small business, he found the wood himself cut it and moulded it and people paid him for the pleasure. The old man that had asked for this chess set had said he wanted something to remind him of the sea and that Eric had free reign on the design. It had taken him a week to create the board each tile was inscribed with the man's family crest which was formed of a trident and a compass and from there the idea of the pieces had taken on a life of their own. He would have the last of the knights finished that evening to take over to the old man early the next morning.

As the kitchen began to darken Eric looked up and saw that Snow had fallen asleep; he was loathe to wake her as she looked so peaceful, but he didn't want a full scale war on his hands if she was not returned to the palace.

"Snow?" he asked patting her arm trying to rouse her in the least violent way possible, but all she did was mumble under her breath and turn to the side. He looked at her face awash with the setting sun and drew in his breath. He knew that she hadn't just come to see if he was alive or downed in a lake of grog, she'd had another purpose in finding him. One that she had neglected to talk about all the time she had been sat there. He tenderly brushed her hair away from her face and leaned in. He knew he was taking advantage of her sleeping form, but if he had woke her the last time this way, it couldn't hurt.

He pressed his lips softly to hers and held the back of her neck gently tilting her head ever so slightly. Her eyes opened slowly almost lazily as her hand snaked up his arm to hold him back. When he pulled away she smiled. She could feel it now the warmth of his breath and the heat of his skin. It was familiar and necessary, it was the same feeling she'd had when she had woken up after eating the apple. She knew she had heard his voice echo in the tomb, but she hadn't dared hope that he had brought her back. Now though it was all so clear.

"It was you." She said softly not a question, but a simple statement of fact and Eric didn't know how to react. He'd always convinced himself that she had woken up on her own no matter what the clerk had said, but from the look in her eyes he knew he had been lying to himself. He was trying to convince himself that he was not worthy of her or anyone for that matter. Fumbling for words he simply blurted,

"I'll take you home." Snow wouldn't argue; she had been out considerably longer than she should have been, but she didn't know why he looked so worried. She was happy that he had been the one to wake her. She had always heard that true love was sacrifice and that only true loves kiss could break any spell. She knew that was what William had hoped when he'd kissed her in desperation willing her back to life, but when she had breathed in for the first time in hours she could taste the salt of tears on her lips as if someone had been mourning the loss of her on a personal scale. For Eric; coming undone in front of her was sacrificing his pride, even if she hadn't been aware. He had given up his guarded nature to bring her back.

He led her back to the stables and put her on her horse; she fell forward slightly and looked dangerously as if she were going to fall off. He unhitched his stallion and spoke to him softly,

"Boy, you are going to have to follow after me and the Princess," he said smiling a little at his slip up, she may be his Queen now, but on the inside she would always be the Princess. "So Adahy be good and don't wander too far away." Snow stirred in her saddle and with eyes glazed from sleep she asked,

"What did you call him?"

"Adahy, it means..."

"Lives in the woods." They said in unison; Eric looked confused for a second, but then his confusion was replaced by concern due to the flash of panic in Snow White's eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, moving towards her his horse a few steps behind. She mumbled a response her tongue thick from sleep,

"In my head when I race you that is the name of your horse, but it's only in my head; it wasn't supposed to be real." He held her hand and smiled,

"You've obviously forgotten the magic in your veins." He kissed her knuckles softly and walked to face her mere, "What is her name?" he asked placing his hand in her line of sight before he reached out to her,

"Ragnfridr," Snow replied her lids falling lower again as the blood red of the sun shone through the open stable door, "It means wise and beautiful in the old language." She finished and smiled softly at him.

"I think the name is rather apt." He said looking at the sleepy rider and her beautiful mere. He moved to take the saddle behind her so she wouldn't fall and she turned to look at him her lips just inches from his,

"Where did you hear of Adahy?" she asked twisting her fingers with his on the reign. He laughed and it was the most beautiful and warm sound that had ever fallen on her ears; not even the fairy music in the forest could come close to the sound of it.

"I was in the forest finding iron wood and ran across some of the natives, they named him for me. Before that he was just boy." Snow leant back in to his broad chest and he took Ragnfridr out of the stable with Adahy close behind. Snow White slept all the way back to the palace her head resting on the Huntsman's shoulder; when they reached the portcullis he woke her and slid off her horse back on to his. She looked at him her brown eyes pleading him to stay, but just like the races in her mind he never came with her under the portcullis.

He took her hand and kissed her palm softly before nodding to her and racing back across the beach the way he had just come. Just like that he vanished as if he had never been there at all.