I am so sorry that this chapter took almost a month. I've been sick, and some other things that came in between my writing. So sorry, but I've had real trouble with this chapter, it was for some reason really hard to write. I officially don't like to write from William's POV.
Well, I pray you enjoy it more than I've enjoyed writing it.
IX
It is with great jealousy that William watches Snow and her Huntsman. She is pressed against his chest, his arm is wrapped securely around her and her head leans back against his shoulder. William wishes it is him who is holding her, not the Huntsman. Has she maybe already chosen and failed to tell him about it? Would she do that? He thinks she wouldn't. But...no. Snow will not do that. That is not how she is. She is sick and is just accepting every help she gets. And the Huntsman was first to be there for her. William should've been first to be there for her. He should've been the one to hold her like that. The Huntsman spots him watching with jealousy like that.
"I know you don't like this. But this is her choice. I didn't coerce her into this." he says.
William nods, suppressing his urge to get angry. "I know that, Huntsman. But you must understand that it hurts to see you two like this." When did he decide to admit that to the Huntsman?
"Do you think it did not hurt to see you kiss her? To hear her ask for you just moments after I told her I would not let anyone hurt her?" He sighs and looks down at the sleeping Snow White in front of him. "We both love her, William. We have to deal with that. I leave the choice up to her. But if she chooses you, I will leave you two in peace."
William nods. That sounds like a fair deal. "Alright. I'll do the same if she chooses you."
"Are...are you two talking about me?" The little form on the front of the Huntsman's horse moves and pushes the cap of her cloak off. The cloak was a gift from one of the nobles from the town at the most outer border of her Kingdom, given to her at her coronation. It is ebony black, much like her own hair and really warm. As a preservation, William had taken it with him only moments before they left. Quite a good decision, if he says so himself. Snow's face is flushed with heat and her eyes are clouded. She still has a fever.
"She is fading." Muir rides up beside the two men.
"Fading?" asks William. "Fading how?"
Muir looks at Snow, whose eyes are half-closed and her head falls to the side, her muscles obviously not working. "I do not know how. I can sense that she is fading. The forest is feeling it. The ground. The air is getting thicker. Fog has followed us for the entire day now. Look at her."
The Huntsman stops his horse and turns Snow's head towards him. He shakes his head when he looks into her eyes and William jumps off his horse, worry sweeping over him. The Huntsman is worried. And that worries William. Without exchanging words, the Huntsman lifts Snow off the horse and into William's waiting arms. When William looks into her eyes, he sees what Muir meant and what the Huntsman saw. Her eyes are open, but she does not reckon his presence. She just stares ahead, like she is blind. He sinks to his knees and settles her head in his lap, and he strokes her hair softly.
"Snow?" She does not answer. "Please, Snow, say something."
Her back arches and she moans. "What – what is happening to me?" she whispers.
Sighing in relief that she is still able to hear him, he bows his head. "I do not know, Snow. This is not just a common illness, I think." William looks up to the Huntsman, who slides off his horse and lands beside them with a thud. He repeats his thoughts louder and the Huntsman nods in agreement.
"That's just what I was thinking. Muir, can you see what is happening to her?"
"No." Says Muir. He slides off his horse with help of Quert and sits down next to the two men and his Queen. "But I can see that something is happening? I wonder how the land will look beyond the forest."
"Why are we stopping?" Nion stops his horse and looks down on five of his companions.
Muir stands up and sighs deeply, sounding very troubled when he speaks. "Snow White does not have a fever. Something or someone is doing this to her."
William suddenly feels tears sting in his eyes. If he is going to lose his Snow White to this silly illness...well, there is no predicting to what he'll do then. "Please, Snow. Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone in this world. I – I can't live without you in this world." He hears the Huntsman's breath hitch, but he can't care less about the Huntsman's feelings right now. Or any other time for that matter.
"B-blood...f-fairest blood..." murmurs Snow. He looks down. Is she losing her mind?
"What is she saying?" he says, hearing the pain in his own voice.
The Huntsman buries his face in his hands and takes a deep breath. "That's the prophecy. 'By fairest blood was it done, and only by the fairest blood can it be undone.' That's the prophecy made on Snow White and Ravenna, by Ravenna's own mother. Why would she say that?" He takes her shoulders and shakes her lightly. "Snow, can you hear me?"
"Mirror...mirror..."
William lowers his head and a desperate feelings washes over him. This is not good. "She is completely delusional. She has no idea where she is or what is happening."
The Huntsman nods and stands up. "We have to get moving. We have to get out of the forest. Whatever is happening to her, is happening because of this forest."
William can't argue on that. He rises, lifts Snow White on his horse and climbs on himself. "Hurry!"
They continue their trip at a gallop, to be out of the forest as soon as possible. Snow's temperature drops quickly as the day endures. William's worry grows every single moment. This just can't be good. The loss of self-restrain of the Huntsman and himself, Snow's illness, the people attacking them...there's something strange going on, something or someone is causing all of this. "Snow, you will be alright. Alright? I promise you, you will be better." She gives no indication that she's heard him.
Gradually, the trees start to stand further apart, start to look younger. And then they are out in the open, sunlight engulfing them. The horses stop in their tracks and William scans his surroundings. Behind him is the forest, but in front of him is the land known as the Land of the Horses. The best horses come from here. Normally, on top of the hills, one can see horses, grazing, playing, running. But now...no sign of life "This is terrible." mumbles Muir. William turns in his saddle, still holding on to Snow for dear life. "This is worse than I had anticipated."
The Huntsman leans forward and rests his elbows on the horses neck, burying his face in his hands. "What do we do?" he asks, his voice feeble with worry.
"She has to be taken to a Healer." says Muir. "Beith, one of your men must go ahead of us to the troops, to warn them that we are not going to the village with the intends of freeing it from the rebels. We are going there to safe our Queen's life."
Beith nods and turns to his men. "Nion, you will go ahead to the men and inform them of our situation. You will leave nothing out, understood?"
The dwarf with the strange twig through his ear nods, spurs his horse on and leaves out of sight behind the hills. "The rest of you!" continues Beith and the four remaining dwarves all pay attention. "The rest of you will do anything in your power to protect our Queen. No more harm can come to her. Is that understood?"
Muir, Quert, Coll and Gort nod curtly and Beith turns to the Huntsman and William. "All we can do now is continue to the village. Eric, you are familiar with the village, are you not? Is there a capable Healer there?"
William sees the Huntsman's eyes light up, and a spark of hope ignites inside of him. "There is, actually." the Huntsman says, grinning broadly. "The best, even. If we go now, she will be able to help us."
Beith nods. "Then we have to go. Now. If she dies, that will be the end of us all."
With that, William cannot argue. He knows exactly how lost they all would be if Snow dies. "Let's go, then." he says, his eyes pleading whether they could go right now. The longer it took for them to get to the doctor, the worst she'd be. The Huntsman nods in agreement, and they hurry towards the village. "When do we get there?"
"Four hours, give or take a few minutes. Be warned, though, she is very distrustful. We each and everyone have to earn her trust." William can't help but feel as if the Huntsman is looking straight at him when he says that. Why won't he trust me? thinks William, while he encourages his horse to speed up.
His thoughts keep going back to the little form in his arms, the shivering going through her body, the moaning, the meaningless mumbling...it all sends him on edge. "William?"
He startles at her soft voice. "Yes, Snow, I'm here. I am going to take care of you."
"What – what is happening to me?" Her voice is so hoarse that he can't repress the urge to shiver.
He strokes her hair out of her face, and locks eyes with hers. She doesn't seem to see him. "We do not know yet. But I promise we will. I will not let anything happen to you. Just please don't give up. Please don't stop fighting."
She stares dead ahead, not acknowledging that she's heard him, or that she even understands what he's saying. "I can see...shadows...all around me. They're calling to me...William...they're dead..." Her eyes widen in horror. "They want me to join them! They say it's time! William...Eric...! Don't let them take me...I don't want to die!" She struggles to get off the horse, but William forces her to stay put. What in the name of everything unholy is happening here?
William looks up at the Huntsman, and sees that said Huntsman is steering his horse towards them, worry creasing his face. He shakes his head, and William understands. She will not make it if they do not hurry. "We will not let you die, Milady. That I promise you." he grunts, and he takes a sip out of his flask.
William frowns. "You cannot drink now, Huntsman." He still refuses to call him by his true name.
"If you want me to stay mentally in charge of myself, I have to drink." The Huntsman leans forward and sighs. "It hurts me to see her this way. The only way to suppress that and stay focused on the task at hand, is to drink. I wish I had another way." He takes another swig.
William feels a stab of jealousy, but also in his heart, he feels the same thing as the Huntsman.
"You really do love her, don't you?" William whispers. He had hoped that it was just the adrenaline of the battle, and the sadness over the loss of his wife, but he now hears that it wasn't. This is real. What the Huntsman feels, is real. There is no denying it now.
The Huntsman stares at the little form on William's horse that is his Queen and nods. "I do. And I know that you do, too. I don't want to fight with you over her." He looks up and looks straight into William's face.
The sincerity in his eyes strikes William deeply. He is really intend on not fighting with William over their Queen. "So, you've felt it, too?"
"The anger is going away, yes, if that's what you mean." William nods and the Huntsman shakes his head. "I've never wanted a fight with you, sir William. Never. And certainly not over Snow. I love her. Maybe even more than I loved Sarah. But if she chooses you...I will not stand in your way. I will let her be happy with you. I will leave the palace to give you all the space."
"She would be devastated. She needs you more than she cares to admit, Huntsman." says William softly. He likes the idea of having the Huntsman gone, even though he doesn't want to fight him anymore. But Snow won't like it. Not at all. The Huntsman has helped her through the times that she needed someone the most. The Huntsman, and not William. "So, I will promise you the same thing. I will let you two life your lives if she chooses you. I will not stand in your way."
The Huntsman nods. "Alright. That is a deal, then."
"I guess so." murmurs William. "Look, right now, all I want is for her to get better. Because if she does not get better, we won't have to make this deal at all, because there will be nobody to choose either one of us."
That makes the Huntsman snicker, but it is with dark humor. "Then we have to hurry, won't we?" The cynicism is dripping from his words.
"We're almost there, Snow. Just hang on." William murmurs.
"Don't let them take me...Will..."
The Huntsman looks worried at William and sends a message through his eyes. 'Do something', he seems to say. That much William knows, but what does he have to do to calm her down? "I won't let them take you. I promise."
"Eric...please, make them stop."
The Huntsman's forehead creases in worry and sadness. "I want to. God, I want to. But I can't. I don't see what you see, Milady."
"Please...help me..." Tears streak down her face as she stares in fear around her. She screeches and hits her wrist, as if someone is grabbing her against her will. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. She is seeing something, and it is affecting her severely.
"We're here, we won't let anything harm you." murmurs William to her, and he takes her hands in his to prevent her from harming herself. He doesn't even notice that he speaks for the Huntsman as well as for himself.
"Muir, what does she see?" asks the Huntsman the blind dwarf.
"She sees the Other Side. She is fading into the Realm of the Dead. She is seeing the Dead." says Muir, his face creased with worry and fear. If that blind, foreseeing Dwarf was worried...then they all should fear for their lives.
William feels his heart lurch, and it could've just as easily been torn out of his chest. Does Muir say that she is dying? The Huntsman voices William's thoughts. "You mean to say that she is dying?"
"You are smarter than you look, Huntsman." says Beith grumbling.
The Huntsman obviously can't laugh about that. "Now is not really a good time for dark humor, Beith. Your Queen is dying."
Beith bows his head in mock consent and he continues to ride in front of William and the others.
William shakes his head at the grumpy leader. "Can he just be nice for once?"
The Huntsman smirks. "That is just who he is, William. He cannot be changed. No, he will not be changed. Believe me, we've all tried it."
William smiles, but immediately stops. How can he smile while Snow is dying? That's just not fair towards her. The guilt is consuming him immediately. "I just want to bring Snow to that doctor of yours, Huntsman."
The Huntsman nods. He doesn't seem at all effected by William calling him Huntsman. He is most likely used to it. "I do, too, sir William." Why does that Huntsman keep calling him 'sir'? Why is he even polite at all? William was brought up to believe that the people like the Huntsman – drunkards, scoundrels – are not overly polite. But the Huntsman has destroyed that image. He is always neat, always polite. At least, when he's with others. William doesn't know what goes on inside the Huntsman's head when he's alone. Frankly, he does not want to.
He wonders how Snow is feeling. He can't really imagine how it must be like, being in two worlds at the same time. Seeing this world and the world of the Dead in the same image...it must be so very frightening.
Finally, the village appears at the horizon and they approach it fast. The Huntsman speeds ahead to warn the doctor, and William lets his horse ride as fast as it can to follow.
The Huntsman is waiting for them at the edge of town, waving them over. "Over here! She's expecting her, I've explained it all." William stops his horse and dismounts, then pulls Snow off as gentle as he can. "Give her to me." says the Huntsman, and he holds his arms out.
William snickers. "Right. As if I'm going to let her go."
The Huntsman growls irritated. "If you don't give her to me, she'll die! Do you want that?! The Doctor doesn't trust anyone but me. She has agreed to let Muir in as well, because he can see past what is visible, but nobody else. Give. Her. To. Me." William doesn't like it. Not in the slightest, but he knows he doesn't have any other choice. If he wants Snow to survive, he has to give her to the Huntsman. He gently hands her to the Huntsman, and holds himself back, while he stays by the horses. He wants to run inside, but if he does that, the doctor will not treat her. And he wants her treated more than he wants to be at her side, that's one things that is certain. He starts pacing up and down in front of the small cottage, not looking around to explore the village. He doesn't care about that. He just cares about Snow.