What a time of rejoicing for me. There I was, alone and confused with the world, and in walked Rebecca, who quickly took me under her wing. Well, as soon as she realised that I was in need of help and there was certainly something different about me.

But I was grateful, whether she found me strange or not. With her help, I was closer to finding Snow White.

And closer to breakfast.

/

Rebecca had to keep me hidden from a lot of people, though I could not think why. New people must have been something of a rarity in town, and given how fast she pulled me along, we did not wish to draw attention to ourselves. Eventually, by way of hustling me down a few alleys and keeping me close to her, I was brought to the front door of a house, and pushed inside, before the door closed quickly.

I made to go right for the hearth, which stood at the front end of the long, but narrow house, but Rebecca grabbed my sleeve, and tentatively called out "Hello? Is anyone home? Mother? Father?"

There was no reply, save a popping sound from the fire in the hearth, which sent up an array of sparks. I found the dancing bits of fire rather pretty. "Good, no one is home." Rebecca sighed, sounding relieved. "You go and stand by the fire, and finish drying."

I did not need to be told again and stood before the lovely open flame, delightfully warm. The fire crackled again, and one spark landed on my arm, burning for a moment. I flinched back. Fire wasn't so wonderful after all.

"Life is so strange…" I mused aloud as Rebecca sought to finding odds and ends to feed me. "Water is pleasant, but being cold and wet is very unpleasant…and fire is so lovely and warm but when you touch it, it burns."

"Mother says moderation is the key to happiness." Rebecca answered.

"Moderation is the key to happiness…" I repeated. "What does that mean exactly?"

"It means that too much of something is no good." Rebecca answered. "Of course…" She added in a quieter voice. "We could do with a bit more than we currently have."

"Your mother is very intelligent then." I smiled.

Rebecca smiled. "You're a sweet thing, you know that?" She answered. "Confused, and a bit on the breezy side right now, but sweet." She patted a chair. "Take a seat and eat, will you?"

I nodded and sat before the meal laid before me. It wasn't much more than some toasted bread, and bits of fruit and treacle. I stared at it for a long moment. "Haven't you seen food before?" Rebecca laughed a little.

"Oh yes, here and there." I nodded. "The question worth asking is if I've ever eaten it before…"

"Try this." Rebecca took a spoonful of treacle from it's little iron pot and poured it over the toast. "Everybody likes sweet toast…we've all been eating it since we could chew."

"Sweet toast…" I mused. I picked up the piece of warm bread and took my first bite of food.

Snow White was right, you can't really explain how something sweet tastes. But it is amazing, and it bites at your tongue playfully, and it only serves to make you want to have another bite. Treacle was very sweet indeed.

"It's good, isn't it?" Rebecca smiled.

"It's the most brilliant thing!" I praised. "It's the best thing I've ever eaten…well it hasn't much competition yet, but I think nothing will compare."

Rebecca nodded. "You just finish eating. Where are you off to next?"

"The forest, she's hiding out there somewhere." I explained, through bites of breakfast. "Would you mind pointing me in the right direction before I leave?"

"Are you sure you ought to venture off on your own?" Rebecca asked. "Miss, you've only just recovered from whatever happened to you last night."

"Mirror, you can call me Mirror, you know." I piped up.

"Well, nearly recovered…" Rebecca corrected herself. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head or anything?"

I thought back. "Well I did fall once last night…" I thought of when the little man with all the pointed features had tipped me out of my mirror. "…but I don't recall hitting my head when I did."

"Maybe you'd better stay and rest for the day…" Rebecca said. "I could hide you in the loft. Our winter cloaks are up there, and some old quilts. You could make a little bed for yourself. So long as you're quiet no one would realise you were up there…if someone did come up you could sneak out the little window and down the ladder on the side of the house. "

I looked up at her. "Do you not want your family to know I'm here?"

"No, no…" She shook her head. "You're a lovely person and you need to eat, but one doesn't just bring home a lost, confused lady, who thinks she's a mirror, and then makes her part of the family."

"But I am a mirror. A magic mirror, from the castle."

Rebecca just shook her head a little and smiled, patting my shoulder. "Try the strawberries."

/

Of course I couldn't blame Rebecca for not thinking I was a mirror. My glass was gone now, and I was the only magic mirror in existence, so she would have never seen one before. Not to mention she had probably never been to the castle ever…and one did not often come across magic in general…

The important thing was, no matter if she believed me or not, I was not lying, and in time I'd maybe be able to show her the truth.

Regardless, she had given me the needed directions to a common path in the forest. I was quite adamant about searching instead of resting. Rebecca had been quite clear in her instructions as well, and her words were going through my head.

'I packed you a bit of lunch, seeing as you don't remember where you left your things.'

'Thank you, Rebecca.'

'Stay on the path, understand?'

'Yes.'

'Be polite to anyone you meet, but keep conversation to a minimum until you're a little clearer of mind.'

'Alright.'

'And if you see a horse out in the woods with no owner and a pack of things, it's probably yours.'

'I don't have a horse.'

Yes, Rebecca was most helpful.

The forest was quite tranquil. It wasn't one of those dark, frightening, and overgrown places of the world, but rather green and bright. It was quiet most of the time. Occasionally there would be the sound of a woodcutter hitting a tree with his axe, or the trill of some song bird. I followed the sound of the woodcutting until I came across a few lumbermen, clearing away stumps and felling timber. I had but one vision of Snow White to help me find her. All I knew was that she had been tucked up and asleep somewhere, rather cozy. Perhaps she had found the lodging of some woodcutter and his family? Perhaps they had been as kind to her as Rebecca had been to me?

"Excuse me?" I called to them, waving my arm in greeting. "Excuse me? I was wondering if you would be so kind as to answer a question."

They could not hear me over their work, but one of them did notice my waving hand, and paused, bringing the others to a stop. "I lost a friend a few days ago, she came running into this forest." I explained. "I think she may be living in someone's house."

"We've not taken in anyone." One man shook his head.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "She may be in hiding…she has hair black as tresses can be, and she is pale as…" I decided against the word 'snow'. It was best not to reveal or hint at my friend's name to the masses. Not with the queen saying she'd hunt her down with men and crossbows. "…as milk." I concluded.

"We haven't seen anyone like that." The same man replied. "Keep walking, there's more cottages. Maybe someone further up has seen your friend."

"Thank you." I nodded and I was off.

I could faintly make out the words they spoke as I continued down the path.

"Do you think she'll find that girl?"

"I hope so. It would be a terrible thing for a family to lose one of their own in these woods."

"I wish I was keeping a lady with raven hair and pale skin at my house."

A soft bout of laughter, followed by "You'd wish for any lady at your house."

I huffed at their words. "If Snow White were here, she'd have the decency to blush and say you're only joking."

There were a few more cabins ahead, many made of logs. Some were big and contained whole families, others were tiny and were home to only men. There were woodcutters, hunters, fishermen, and miners. There were women who sat outside sewing or weaving baskets. There were children who were chasing each other.

Everyone was quite surprised to see someone new out in the woods.

I wasn't particularly dressed like them either. Everyone's clothes were sturdier than mine, and a combination of subdued blues, greens, and neutral colors. Indeed the brightest flashes of color came from the ribbons in the hair of little girls. No one else was wearing a crisp white dress and slippers. No one else had sweeping elbow sleeves.

One child pointed me out and asked if I was a bride.

I smirked. Children outside the castle were delightful, I could tell already.

At first I was hopeful. Snow White wasn't in the first place I looked, but how could I expect to be so lucky? And if she had been truly smart about it, which I knew she would try to be, she would have gone a lot deeper into the forest than that. It was still too close to the town. But the day wore on, and I was beginning to be a bit discouraged. No one had seen her, much less taken her in. I was beginning to think I simply imagined her sleeping in a nice little bed.

The lunch Rebecca had supplied was nibbled away, bite by bite, and my slippers were growing uncomfortable. I had never used them for walking, especially for walking this much.

When I reached an isolated little cabin, home to a hunter and his wife, both of whom were browned by the sun and wrinkled and chaffed by the wind, and learned that my friend had not be seen by them either, I made one last attempt to travel down the path.

Only to be stopped by the pair, who said there were no more cabins along the road.

"No more?" I asked. "But there must be more…"

"Sorry, but there isn't." The old man shrugged. "At least, none that you would like to find."

"So there is more."

"Not for miles." The woman said, in a cracked voice, that she cleared up with a harsh cough. "You'd need a horse if you wanted to go any farther." She coughed again. "And there will be nothing but gypsies, witches and trolls."

"Really?"

"Old wives tales…stories meant to scare children." The old scoffed. "Don't take her word for it. There's only folk who don't like company like decent people do. And maybe some gypsies…"

"Selling spells." The old woman nodded vigorously

"Selling pipe weed and tinware." The man corrected. "I've never known one to use a spell."

"But there is magic out there, yes? Witches and trolls, you said?"

"No."

"Yes."

Both answers came at the same time. I did not know who to believe. Was enchantment really to be found in this forest? I smirked to myself. Why, of course there might be! I was living proof that such stuff existed.

I was about to take the first step of many when I was stopped by the old couple again. "It will be dark soon, do you really think you should be looking about the forest at such an hour? The path ends at the next mile."

I stared off into the green distance for a while, before deciding I had no choice but to come back tomorrow, hopefully with a horse, and try to find my way then. It broke my heart. Another precious day gone without Snow White, and the coming of dusk only served to remind me that I had achieved little, and there would be one less day in which I could say goodbye before the little man came to collect his payment.

The walk home was less pleasant, the clearings and path now deserted as children were called in for supper. I glanced into the windows of cabins, vainly hoping to see Snow White seated inside, but only say people eating at their tables, and the warm orange glow of hearths and lamps inside.

My stomach grumbled again and I groaned. This was going to become a very bothersome part of being human. I had always thought food and eating to be a novelty, and here I burdened with it's necessity.

Faced once again with no food, money, or roof over my head I returned to the one place where I knew I may get help.

I returned to Rebecca's house.

The windows had a soft orange glow behind them too, and I saw her family moving about as I approached, a little cautious. I did not wish to interrupt. My stomach growled again, and I proceeded a little closer to the door. I remained hesitant about knocking however. Rebecca had not wanted to reveal that she had aided a complete stranger to her family. I owed her for her hospitality, surely I could keep that secret.

I watched as Rebecca neared the window…her eyes glanced up, widened, and then she quickly put down the dishes in her hands, excused herself, and ran to the door. The door opened and closed, with Rebecca stepping out in those brief seconds. "What are you doing here?" She whispered, lowly.

"I'm very sorry." I replied. "But I don't have much place else to go…I was hoping the offer for your attic was still open…if not, then perhaps I could spend another night in the mill? I was comfortable enough there." My stomach growled, making it's own demands. "A bit of supper wouldn't be a bad idea either." I finished.

"Are you crazy?!" Rebecca whispered again. "I can't just bring you in now!"

"Should I come back later?" I asked.

"Didn't you find your horse?"

"I told you, I don't have one."

Rebecca sighed, aggravated, and I felt badly for putting such demands on her. "Please." I begged. "I'll find a way to help you in return, I promise. But I have nothing. I've never needed anything. And I couldn't find my friend today…"

Rebecca looked like she wanted to slap herself for the decisions she made before, but her look softened again and she sighed. "Alright…something bad has obviously happened to you. Someone's confused you terribly, that's for sure." She heaved another sigh. "It won't be very fun to explain to Mother, but we pride our family on being decent, good people. Any decent, good person would make sure you have some supper and place to sleep."

"Thank you." I said, with very genuine gratitude.

"You're not a gypsy, right?"

"No, I'm a magic mirror."

Rebecca frowned a little. "Let's just say you're lost, and leave it at that."

The door was pushed open and Rebecca took my hand and led me inside, effectively capturing the attention of what I assumed to be a trio of her younger siblings.

"Who is she?" One, a boy, with brown hair and a multitude of freckles, asked another boy, smaller than him, but similar in appearance.

"I don't know." The child shrugged.

The oldest of the three, a girl, sporting more brown hair and freckles still, looked up at Rebecca. "What are you doing? Who is that?" In a tense whisper.

"Be quiet, Emelia." Rebecca said. "It's only a…friend."

"I've never seen her before." Young Emelia crossed her arms.

"A new friend."

"Am I?" I asked. Perhaps she had not used the term as a façade at all. Perhaps she did now consider me a friend.

"I suppose so." Rebecca whispered.

The answer wasn't as sure as I had hoped it would be. But then again, we had only met, and one rarely meets kindred spirits, such as I had in the case of Snow White. More than likely, Rebecca had meant there was a good chance we would be friends, given some time. Such a response was good enough for me.

As we neared the kitchen, Rebecca seemed to get more and more tense. Dare I say…nervous? Within the kitchen was a woman that was running back and forth, stoking a fire, stirring something in a pot, and chopping up vegetables, seemingly all at once. She sported the same hair color and freckles as her three youngest children, and had a shapely form.

"Mother?" Rebecca spoke up.

"Yes, love?" The woman turned around and saw me, and in her surprise, stopped working. "Who is that?" She pointed at me with a wooden spoon.

"This is a friend of mine." Rebecca avoided the use of my name. Perhaps it was too strange a name for ordinary people… "She's quite lost. I don't think she's from here. She needs help."

"What kind of help?" The woman crossed her arms, much like Emelia had.

"Supper, a place to sleep…very likely breakfast in the morning…"

"And…?"

"Well, she's very confused you see…she may have to stay a few days…"

"A few days?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "And how did your friend become so confused, huh?"

"It's a long story."

"Rebecca, be truthful with me." The woman punctuated her demand by chopping the leafy top off another carrot from her stack of vegetables. "Do you really know this young woman?"

"I know her well enough."

"How well would that happen to be?" Another chop from the vegetable knife.

"A day." Rebecca admitted, quietly.

"Oh, only a day." The woman replied, with a jokingly sweet voice. "Well, that's not a very long time now, is it?"

"Mother, she needs help."

"I would assume so, the poor girl is walking around in a wedding dress."

"Please, Mum, I think she hit her head along the way…she doesn't remember where she left her clothes, her horse, her money…"

"So you expect me to take in a vagabond, and feed her from my own kitchen?" The woman looked me up and down. "What would our neighbours think?"

"It would be the right thing to do." Rebecca pressed. "She's very sweet, Mother."

"You have to be careful what sort of characters you allow in your home, Rebecca. One could take in a traveler and the next morning the man and half your dishes could be gone."

"I don't need any dishes." I spoke up.

"But what about what Father said about doing what is right?" Rebecca quickly made another attempt.

This made the woman sigh. "I didn't make enough for a guest."

"We could manage."

There was the sound of the door opening and the three children running and greeting a man. "Go and join your brothers and sister. I'll speak with your father about this."

We departed, as the woman called out "Hans!"

I got a quick glimpse of Rebecca's father as he passed us, looking curiously at me. He had red hair like Rebecca did, and clear green eyes. "Caroline, who's the lady with Rebecca?" He asked.

The rest of the conversation was in hushed tones as the two had their private debate.

Rebecca's siblings continued to look at me, confused.

"It isn't polite to stare." Rebecca reminded them.

Rebecca's mother burst out the kitchen a moment later, a pot of stew in hand, and a bowl containing bread rolls in the other. She filled each other six bowls set at the table with stew, placed the bread in the middle of the table, retreated to the kitchen, and came out with another place setting, which she put at the corner of the table.

Hans emerged with a stool, which he placed at the corner.

"Sit down and eat." Was the short remark from Caroline, directed at everyone. No one dared argue with her, taking their places, mine in front of an empty bowl. Hans tore off a piece of his bread and gave it to me, keeping the other half for his own dinner.

"Welcome to our house, Miss." He said politely. "It's a pleasure to have some company."

"My apologies for not having made something grander than stew." Caroline said, dunking her spoon into her bowl. "Perhaps if I had just a few moments notice…"

"Oh, I don't require anything grand." I said. "I've never had a meal like this before." I added, honestly.

"Well, I won't let you eat just a roll in this house." Caroline said, reaching for my bowl and emptying part of her meal into it. She then passed it to her youngest child. "Fill it some, and pass it along." She grinned over me. "We'll make sure you have a good meal, won't we Hans?"

There was something in her tone that implied that she had lost the argument with her husband.

"Yes, a good meal." Caroline finished. "We'll feed you right from our own plates."

"You don't have to…"

"Don't worry, miss…be generous Emelia! More than just the broth…we're decent folk. Our spoons are clean."

Hans laughed. "You'll have to excuse her…" He whispered to me. "She's just upset she didn't have the time to roast a chicken." He leaned away from me again, and spoke up. "It's a fine meal, darling."

My bowl was returned to me, full of stew. I took a bite. "Oh!"

This startled everyone. "What?" Caroline asked.

"It's divine!" I took another bite. "Heavenly!"

Caroline flushed. "Yes, well I'm sure a hot meal is very welcome after a long day." She said modestly. "Though my cooking is a fine example, I've been told."

I proceeded to eat with them, and for those few minutes, no one asked anything of how I came to their door again, or what my story was. We simply just shared a meal.

I sighed. There was some hope for finding Snow White tomorrow, and in this moment, I was happy, and not alone.

"So, Miss, what would be your name?" Hans asked.

"Mirror." I answered.

Rebecca rubbed her temples, while her mother and siblings looked confused.

Hans absorbed this information, took another bite of his supper, and said "A unique name, to be sure."

/

Treacle is the syrup that you get when you refine sugar. So...molasses. It's a older/ British term for molasses. Mirror is basically having the equivalent of French toast.