In a large town filled with many houses and people there lived two poor boys, Alfred and Matthew. While they were neighbors they had grown up together and their families were very close. The two boys loved each other very much and did absolutely everything together. People even said the two resembled one another.
Now, in such large towns there is not a lot of free space, particularly for such luxuries as a personal garden. However, the two boys were clever and made use of what was available to them. Their houses were very close together with little windows that faced each other. These two windows led into either boy's bedroom and were connected by a beam so one could take a couple steps over and be within the other's house in an instant.
The boys used this ledge between their houses to their advantage. In the spring and summer they would place wooden boxes to grow anything they pleased. Flowers and herbs that changed continuously sprouted up much to the boys' continuous delight. However, the one thing they always grew year after year were two rosebushes, Alfred's always vibrant red and Matthew's always a gentle yellow. These flowers stood like a symbol of their love for one another.
The two spent much time on the ledge and among their small garden. Playing as children and talking more often as they became older. But in the winter such things were not possible. It became so bitterly cold that the windows would often freeze shut and nothing could live until the spring came again. In that dreadful season they would often scrape away the ice enough to look at one another when they couldn't be together.
When the snow and ice wasn't so thick it kept them apart, the two would meet to go out and play. Afterwards they would find refuge in one of their houses. Alfred in particular had a hard time tolerating the cold and Matthew would tease him for it as they warmed their hands near the fireplace.
Often if Alfred's father Arthur wasn't too busy he would tell them all sorts of stories and fairy tales. The two loved listening to them even well past the age where many of their peers had lost interest.
One day Arthur told them such a story while it was snowing. "Do either of you know how the frost on your window gets there when it snows?"
The two boys looked at one another and shrugged. Matthew shook his head, anticipating the mystical explanation that was to come. "No, how?"
Arthur looked down at his embroidery—for he was quite skilled at many things—and hummed thoughtfully. "There is a very special king. The Snow King to be exact. He travels the world, bringing snow and arctic winds in his stead. He does not do this out of spite but simply because it is his lonely task in life to do so. It is not uncommon for him to fly through the streets of a town at midnight and look into all the windows out of curiosity. His gaze causes the window panes to freeze over into the lovely shapes you see like flowers and castles."
Matthew tilted his head. "It sounds like he's terribly lonely."
Arthur smiled at him. "Do not fret over it too much. His heart is made of ice. Perhaps he is lonely, but he is not sad."
Matthew, who had a wonderfully compassionate heart, still could not feel quite satisfied with that. "I feel bad for him..."
Alfred reached over and lightly pinched his cheek. "I think he sounds like a creep, looking into people's windows. If the Snow King ever takes a gander in mine I'll throw him on the stove and melt him."
Matthew laughed and Arthur smiled at his boldness. Smoothing his son's hair soothingly he told them more tales.
For a time the Snow King was forgotten by both boys until a particular night. Alfred, half undressed, saw that it had begun to snow. It was terribly late and his father was fast asleep. Excited, Alfred quietly crept to the small window between his and Mathew's house and opened it, a chill going through his body as the freezing wind licked at his exposed skin.
His breath rose as vapors while he marveled at the soft crystal blanket being gently tucked over their town. And the world was so silent, as if he were the only one alive. He ignored the bite of the cold. All he had to do was crawl under his blankets to warm back up when it became too much.
Just as he was considering pulling on his boots and some more clothes to crawl across and wake up Matthew so they could watch the snow fall together, something extraordinary happened. A snow-flake, larger than the others around it, landed gently on the side of one of the flower boxes. The snow-flake grew and grew until it formed into the tall figure of a man dressed in fine white robes that looked like millions of starry snow-flakes linked together. He was stunning and handsome but he was made of glimmering ice. Somehow this lifelike ice sculpture was alive, his eyes sparkling like bright stars, but there was no peace in them.
The man turned his head towards Alfred and stared at him. Alfred stared right back, too stunned to react, to move, to even make a sound. Finally he nodded at Alfred and seemed to smile, waving briefly. Still staring with mouth agape in shock, Alfred slowly raised his hand and waved back. A strong wind suddenly blew, tugging at Alfred's hair and scanty bedclothes. Alfred backed up, tripping and falling to the ground. A moment later the window blew shut and it seemed as if a large bird flew by it.
Heart beating quickly, Alfred sat up. He was a brave boy and was not going to let such a thing frighten him. Pulling himself to his feet, he approached the window. His eyes widened as he saw it. A heavy layer of frost had appeared on the window like delicate lace. Touching the glass sent a chill through his body. Squinting through the glass, he couldn't seem to see the figure anymore.
Had he... seen the Snow King? Confused, Alfred returned to bed. The next day the window was still frosted over and there was a thick blanket of snow on the ground. Uncertain if he had merely dreamed about it or had actually seen something that night, Alfred kept the incident to himself. Matthew would never make fun of him, nor would Arthur. Yet... in a way, even if it was a dream it seemed very special and he wanted to keep it a secret. At least for a while
As the bitter winter passed them by Alfred continued to watch his window from time to time at nights but did not see his icy specter again. Soon he convinced himself it had been a dream after all and it began to slip from his mind. In time the snow and ice began to thaw and beautiful, warm spring came wiping the encounter clean from his mind.
The sun was very bright that year, young leaves and flowers were bursting all around them, birds returned to build their nests, windows were opened, and Matthew and Alfred once more spent idle days on the platform between their homes.
As summer came upon them the roses began to bloom so very beautifully. Matthew in particular was fond of the roses. Alfred picked one of the red roses from his box for him on Matthew's sixteenth birthday. Alfred had turned sixteen himself earlier, in the spring. Matthew mourned for the deep scratches on Alfred's hands from the thorns and kissed them gently before kissing the rose.
"Sorry I couldn't get you something better." Alfred smiled sheepishly at him.
But Matthew knew his situation at home and how carefully they had to spend money. His own family had very little to spend on such luxuries as birthday gifts. "No, I love this. It is enough for me, really. Thank you."
Alfred sighed. "In a year or so I'll be able to get some of the better jobs and will bring in money of my own. Then I'll give you a really great present, promise."
Matthew shook his head quickly. "Please, I said not to worry about it. All I could give you for your birthday was a small cake."
Alfred reached over and stroked his silky hair then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I know, and that was just fine. But I want to. So it's a promise alright? Someday I will give you the gift you deserve as well as a rose."
Matthew blushed lightly. "Then I will look forward to that day."
It was a splendid summer. Both knew that their lazy days as youths were coming to an end. Soon they would both be working or finding positions as apprentices. And so they enjoyed it all the more, played twice as hard, held on to the fairy tales. Held on to each other as they always had. Everything was so fresh and wonderful near their rose-bushes and it seemed, like that carefree summer, the blooms would never end.
One day they went walking outside the town. It was a particularly lovely day and the two were enjoying themselves immensely, Matthew gathering flowers for his mother. Just as the clock struck twelve from the town Alfred suddenly felt a deep pain in his chest and collapsed to his knees. "A-ah, something... it felt like something struck my heart!"
He had scarcely recovered from that pain when there was another smaller pain in his eye. "And now something is in my eye!"
Matthew quickly fell to his side and looked into his eye but could not find the source of Alfred's discomfort.
Alfred waved him away. "I...I think it's gone, don't worry about it. Must have been some dirt or dust or something."
Matthew gave him a concerned look. "Alright, but what about that pain in your chest? Do you want to rest?"
"No. I'm fine, really. I have no idea what that was but both pains are gone now."
But what neither boy knew was that both had been caused by fragments of the looking-glass that distorted the world. The piece in his eye immediately changed the way he looked at things, showing him every little fault that could be seen. The other piece had pierced his heart, quickly turning it into a lump of ice. The pain was gone but the glass remained.
Alfred looked critically at Matthew, who had tears of concern in his soft blue eyes. "What are you crying for? You look ugly when you cry. I'm fine I said."
His gaze fell to the flowers Matthew had picked and he recoiled. "Ugh! These flowers are hideous, all eaten up by bugs, and the petals are bent."
Matthew stared at Alfred in shock, hardly believing what he was saying. "But... I think they're lovely... But if you really think so then can I just bring some roses from our garden for my mother?"
Alfred quickly shook his head. Suddenly he could see the world and realized how ugly it was. "No, those roses are just as disgusting, don't you get it? Them and those stupid shabby boxes they sit in. Foolish and ugly."
More tears welled up in Matthew's eyes. "How... how could you say that? What's wrong Alfred?"
"Nothing is wrong. And why are you crying, you look awful I said!" He turned and walked quickly away from Matthew who was left stunned and hurt.
Perhaps, Matthew thought, Alfred had been in more pain than he wanted to admit and it put him in a bad mood. Surely he would be himself in no time...
But as the days passed Alfred did not become his normal self. He became super critical, restless, easily irritated at the world around him. He no longer wished to sit with Matthew among their roses. When Arthur tried to tell them stories Alfred interrupted him and began to mock him behind his back. It was all distressing to poor Matthew and the behavior only got worse.
Soon he began to imitate lots of people, able to zero in on and perfectly mock and mimic anything peculiar or disagreeable about a person. While they were insulting pantomimes they were so cleverly done that people called him quite clever. A good reader of people and their faults, they said about him. Those who weren't horribly offended or irritated by the behavior anyway.
However, it was truly the glass in his eye and the coldness in his heart that made him act so cruelly when before he had been so kind and lighthearted. Quite often he turned this ruthless mocking on Matthew, who bore it silently. For he loved Alfred with all his heart and was certain he would return to his usual self in time.
As the winter began to set in again he had not changed, though Matthew had hope. Both his father and Matthew's parents were terribly concerned about the sudden change but didn't know what to do. Arthur tried scolding him, reasoning with him, even punishing him but it did no good. Alfred had become quite rebellious about his new attitude and one could not say a thing to him without being back-talked.
One day, after it had snowed, he brought a magnifying glass and held up one of his gloves to catch a few flakes of snow.
"Hey, look at the snow through here Matthew. It's incredible!" Matthew leaned in to look. All of the snow-flakes were magnified so one could see them very clearly in intricate detail. Every one looked like a glittering star or flower. "Isn't that fantastic? Much better than looking at real flowers. They're completely perfect until they begin to melt."
Matthew thought real flowers were much nicer but simply nodded. "Yes, they're very pretty..."
Alfred simply adored them. He spent a great deal of time looking at snow-flakes under his magnifying glass, for in his eyes they were the only flawless things he ever saw anymore.
On a cold winter's night Alfred was awoken by a chill. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and saw the window had come open. Frowning slightly he went to close it and saw it had begun to snow. So many beautiful snow-flakes and no one to interrupt him in his gazing!
Ever so quickly he bundled up and ran outside with his magnifying glass. He caught snow-flakes and admired them until his nose was bright red and a cold ache was starting to settle in his bones. Deciding it was time to go inside to warm up, Alfred turned and was arrested in his movement.
A tall man stood some feet away watching him. Alfred was doubly startled when he recognized him as the figure that had waved at him from the rose boxes last winter. Only now he did not appear as ice but rather as a pale man with silver hair and violet eyes that still twinkled like stars. Unlike with other people around him Alfred could find no flaws to mock. The man before him, the Snow King, was beautiful. Everything about him was simply perfect and Alfred stood in awe.
The Snow King waved and turned, walking slowly down the street. A gust of freezing wind followed him, pulling at Alfred. He found himself following as if against his will. But his fascination outweighed his fear and he continued, pursuing the Snow King through the town. As they walked the snow fell harder and harder until Alfred had to squint and began to walk faster so as not to lose his target. At times he was sure he had lost him only to catch a glimpse and renew his determination.
Before Alfred knew it he found himself outside of the town and all at once the wind and snow stopped. The world was left in a deep silence. They were at the river that ran near the town. It gleamed by the heavy moonlight, the entire world a field of starlight. Alfred looked around and in this landscape of ice and snow, he felt he had never beheld such beauty.
The Snow King stood before a grand white sleigh, watching him with his head tilted to one side. "Hello, I see you have followed me after all."
Alfred swallowed hard. "I simply had to. You see... Everything... I don't know why but everything is so repulsive to me now. Things I once found beautiful are ugly and I can clearly see all the flaws of people I once greatly respected. Snow is the only thing that is pure now. And you are so perfect. I have never seen someone as lovely as you. Are you truly the Snow King?"
Smiling, the man nodded. "But of course I am. Who else would I be? And you... are Alfred correct?"
Startled, Alfred took a step back. "How did you know my name?"
"Oh, the wind tells me things that I wish to know." A cold breeze blew in that moment, ruffling both of their hair. "I wished to know who you were after our brief meeting last snowfall. Very few people greet me. And only children are ever glad of my coming."
Alfred stood up straighter. "I am not a child!"
The Snow King eyed him. "No? I see then. Tell me Alfred, would you like to come with me? You say everything is ugly to you now except snow. If you come with me then you shall be surrounded in a world of snow and ice and then everything will always be beautiful. Correct?"
Alfred hesitated, but when he looked at the Snow King and weighed him against all he would be leaving there was hardly a comparison. How could he give up being with someone so perfect? He firmed his resolve and nodded once. The Snow King held out his hand and Alfred walked nervously towards him before lightly taking it in his own gloved hand.
Smile widening, the Snow King gazed down at him. "But you look so very cold Alfred. That will not do at all."
Gently the Snow King tilted his face up and pressed icy lips against Alfred's own. The kiss was colder than ice and pierced his heart, already frozen from the mirror fragment. For a moment Alfred thought he might die and the magnifying glass slipped from his grasp as he reached up to clutch at the Snow King's sleeve. Soon the feeling passed and he found he was no longer cold at all, the lips pressed against his own suddenly quite warm.
Alfred panted as the Snow King pulled away, dazed. The Snow King stroked his hair. "There you are. And now there is one last thing I must do."
He leaned in to kiss Alfred again, embracing him tightly. Alfred held onto him, for the strength seemed to leave his body. As the Snow King kissed him for the second time beneath the moonlight all memories of Matthew, Arthur, and everything at home that he had once loved disappeared.
Pulling away slowly the Snow King slid his thumb over the stunned boy's lower lip. "Now you must have no more kisses or I should kiss you to death."
If possible the Snow King seemed even more beautiful now and Alfred knew he had nothing to fear from him. The Snow King put an arm around him. "Now come with me dear one."
Helping Alfred into his sleigh, it began to move through the silent landscape. Away from the town Alfred no longer remembered. Away from Matthew. The Snow King drew him close and brushed his fingers through Alfred's hair, listening as he spoke of all the things he knew that he seemed to recall people had found clever. And always the Snow King wore a smile that suggested Alfred still had much to learn, and he looked around at their surroundings as they began to fly higher and higher upon a black cloud. A storm blew and howled as if singing old songs in their wake, though it did not seem to keep the Snow King from easily hearing Alfred's words.
They flew over woods and lakes, sea and land, kingdoms and villages. Below them the wild wind roared, wolves howled, the snow crackled, and above them black crows screamed while the pale moon bathed them in clear, bright light. And so Alfred sat by his king's side all through the winter's night and slept by day at his feet.
And the Snow King, who knew that Alfred had a piece of the evil mirror in his heart and so was much like himself, was pleased to have the company.
AN: The first kiss the Snow Queen gives Kay ('Alfred') numbs him to the cold. The second kiss makes him lose his memory. If she had kissed him again he would have frozen to death.