Summary

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, a young girl awoke in a body not her own.

When the giant mirror shows not her own reflection but that of an evil enchantress, Lucy Lambert realizes that her troubles have only just /
Waking up as the villainous character of a well-known fairy tale is no walk in the park, especially not when her only options are to die a gruesome death or succeed where the original has failed.

A Snow White Fairy Tale retelling with un unwilling villainess and lots of plotting.

'Mirror
mirror
on the wall
tell no more lies
of who we are.'

Atticus

Author Notes

This story popped into my head because I have a guilty pleasure for all self-insert and isekai novels out there and wanted to try my hand at it - though I admit I choose a rather obscure fandom (if there even is a following for fairy tales?). But it just gave me such a perfect opportunity to explore my love for villainous characters with a well-known tale and try something new all in one stroke.

I didn't use any old-timey speak, as for one I'm not sure I would be able to apply it correctly and secondly because I think it gives it a bit more flair to not confine a fantasy worldscape to a certain timeline. There is no real monarchy, hisotrical age, region or system that I wanted to represent either. I just cherry picked my way through different ideas until I was happy with the finished product ^^
Also this is put under the Snow White movie because Fanfiction didn't offer a tag for the original Grimm Story - just know that I orientated myself on the orignal (rather gruesome) tale instead of the Disney Movie.

This story is already finished with roughly 25.000 words and will be posted in weekly intervals. With all that out of the way, happy reading ! Let me know what you think.

Lucy Lambert had been in her fair share of absurd situations.

But waking up in a different body was definitely a first.

Lucy stared at her hand. Her mind should have been blank with shock but instead some inane thoughts were chasing each other in a loop, like hyper-active bunnies. It's a pretty hand. Look at those nails. How do you even take care of them? Probably should get rid of that nervous finger-biting habit. And that skin as well, looks quite soft. These hands could model for all kinds of jewelry and watches … they're money-makers in their own right. My student loans can be taken care of just with these hands.

It was a hand pretty enough to be distracting for sure - with skin like gleaming gold, unmarked by any blemishes or scars, and fingers so long and delicate they looked as though even gripping them too hard would be enough to break them. They were topped with long nails coated in gleaming paint, reflecting the dim light almost like little mirrors.

It was a beautiful, feminine hand. It just wasn't Lucy's original one.

The figure sitting in the lavish canopy bed was frozen. Sometime before the real kicker hit, Lucy had already concluded that this wasn't her dorm room - too little in the way of cheesy posters and too much in the way of velvet and marble. The last she knew, her dorm also wasn't lit by romantic candlelight, barely illuminating high columns and wall draperies. Her bed had changed quite drastically as well, turning into a whole princess number with the biggest mattress ever and gauzy bed curtains that tried and failed to hide the giant room around her. An unlit chandelier dominated the high ceiling above her head, looking as if it was dripping a multitude of sparkling diamonds and hopefully securely fastened because it was big enough to flatten her and the ridiculous bed together.

The whole room was so over the top and opulent that it had slightly short-circuited her brain, making her refuse to deal with it. Waking up in strange places could at least be explained away.

But the realization that this was not even her own body was a different matter.

Lucy's thoughts finally went numb when she clenched her hand and the long mirror-nails pierced into the soft flesh of her palm. Everything felt too vivid: the slight bite of pain, the soft silk nightgown caressing her skin, the cushions with the stitched-on pearls digging into her thin back. With each breath the air smelling like wax, perfumed oils and powder wormed deeper into her brain.

It felt real.

But it couldn't be real, right? What the hell had happened?

The last thing she remembered was cleaning the mascara off her face after coming home from her afternoon lecture about famous European fairy tales. Her head had pounded painfully and her vision had wavered, as if the bathroom mirror had turned into the surface of a lake and then - nothing.

How did it go in the movies again? Being sucked into a portal, bitten by a spider or being in some kind of freak accident … nothing even remotely like that had happened. Her memories blanked, her last clear thoughts circling around her basket of overdue laundry of all things. She should be waking up in her small dorm by now, with a mean knick in her neck from sleeping slumped over. Right about now.

Instead she was still here … wherever here was. Still in a body with hands so beautiful they looked photoshopped.

It was … too much. She heard her own breaths, loud in the oppressive silence, but no air reached her lungs. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn't catch a deep breath, feeling herself slowly suffocating. It was as if the air around her head had been replaced by invisible, thick glue.

She had to get out of here.

Without real thought, she clambered from the bed, her long legs tangling with soft sheets before she could finally free them. Stumbling, she felt her feet sink into something slightly scratchy, the unexpected itching sensation enough to momentarily jar her. She froze next to the bed, her breathing getting slower and deeper with each passing second.

When Lucy finally felt like she wouldn't faint the next second, her gaze wandered down-ward slowly. An expensive carpet, the kind with lots of beautiful motives woven into it, cushioned two tender feet. Small, round toes complimented a curving arch and dainty ankles. Lucy swallowed, trying to take in the sight. Her legs were suddenly long and slender, gifted with the same flawless skin as her new hands. She couldn't even find a stray hair. Instead of a washed out, oversized shirt, a shimmering nightgown caressed her impressive curves and tiny waist, looking like someone had poured molten moonlight over her body.

Where were the thin scars on her knees from too much playing around as a kid? Or her not-at-all-dainty feet?

Her head started spinning again. She wasn't sure how much more she could handle.

Teetering, she grabbed a heavy curtain in front of her, trying to remain upright. Instead it swished aside, revealing not a window like she had expected but a big, polished mirror.

Lucy stared inside and a beautiful woman stared back. She looked older than Lucy's twenty, even though there was not even a hint of wrinkles on her face. Her skin was the color of expensive champagne, smooth and even slightly shimmering as though it was sprinkled with stardust. Her eyes were big and deep amber, framed by long, curling lashes which were still damp from Lucy's panic. Light hair tumbled from her head in glossy waves, the strands appearing as if they were spun from molten gold.

It didn't even remotely look like Lucy's original appearance.

Something swirled inside the mirror, like hot air rising from a fire, distorting the reflection. Hypnotized, she watched as the beautiful woman slowly faded from view, replaced by a smoky shadow, its wavering silhouette illuminated by flashes of reflective silver.

"My Queen …" an incorporeal voice hissed.

Lucy let out a half-choked sob and quickly tugged the curtain closed again.

This isn't happening , she told herself, staggering backwards. The back of her knees hit the bed and she tumbled onto the soft mattress, almost tearing the see-through bed-curtain from the ceiling.

Remember those nonsense dreams you sometimes have. This is the same, just slightly more vivid.

Lucy forced her eyes shut, trying to ignore her new body and the creepy voice from the mirror. Everything would be just fine once she woke up. This would all be a slightly strange memory she'd archive in her brain and never think about again.

She couldn't say how long she motionlessly sprawled on the mattress, trying to slow her quick breathing and keep the panic at bay. When she was finally overtaken by blackness, Lucy wasn't even sure if it was the relief of sleep or an exhausted faint.

Waking up for the second time was no less traumatic, but at least this time Lucy was better prepared for her situation.

Blinking her eyes open and seeing a crystalline chandelier in the dark pre-dawn light confirmed that she hadn't gone back to her own body. It made her stomach sink, but no tears sprang to her eyes and her breathing didn't speed up.

She would just deal with this, one step at a time.

So she had somehow possessed an insanely beautiful and probably rich woman she had never seen before.

It could have been worse. She could have woken up as a dung beetle or - god-forbid - a newborn. She really didn't want to go through potty training and pre-school once more, especially if she retained her memories.

Lucy remained motionless and unblinkingly stared at the chandelier above her. Her eyes were unconsciously following each crystal-dripping strand over and over, almost as if her brain was trying to distract itself from her situation with visual stimuli.

But her thoughts were racing, uncaring of the pretty, sparkling crystals above her.

The first thing Lucy ruled out was a rebirth, simply because this woman obviously had a life before her arrival. Which left something along the lines of possession, in the ghost-style way of things, as a big possibility. How she had managed that, or why it was even possible, had been shoved to the back of her mind to deal with later - along with the fact that to be a people-possessing ghost she had to have somehow died in her original body.

The other major thing she didn't want to think about was the shadow in the mirror. She refused to even glance at the curtained alcove, her eyes not once straying from the chandelier. At the moment, she had almost convinced herself that there was nothing unusual about that mirror and that the voice had been a stress-induced hallucination.

Almost.

Excessive opulence, a gorgeous woman who looked young but old at the same time, these could be explained with the rules of reality as Lucy knew them (and some room for suspension of disbelief). Talking demon furniture on the other hand fell slightly too far out of her area of comfort.

Once she felt a little more settled, Lucy rolled out of bed and started exploring the rest of the room. A huge vanity, cluttered with all kinds of small glass vials and tubes, which almost made it look like a chemistry shelf, dominated the wall opposite the bed. Lots of heavy curtains shaded the walls and after she finally mustered her courage and lifted one of them, she was relieved to find a huge window instead of another mirror.

What surprised her though was the darkness the window showed. She could discern a night sky which was slowly lightening, but the landscape was gray and murky without a single source of light. Where were the streetlights, car headlights, illuminated windows or blinking adverts? The blueish silhouettes she made out in the rising fog looked like a heavily forested area but no street was in sight.

Was this woman living in some kind of nature reservoir? Or apart from society because she was famous and wealthy and wanted her calm and quiet? Lucy hadn't recognized the face though, and it was one that would stay in one's memory even after just one glimpse.

Looking around the room again, Lucy noticed another strange thing. While there was every opulence one could think of, none of them required modern technology. The crystalline chandelier was equipped with actual candles. There was no sink or shower in the marble-covered, adjourning bathroom, only a big gold inlaid tub, which wasn't connected to any plumbing and placed in the middle of the circular room. She couldn't find a toilet, sink or spot a single heater, not even hidden behind wand paneling.

So no electricity, heat or water? Did this woman, for all her gold and glitter, like to rough it like a medieval person?

No, everything was too luxurious, more in line with a self-indulging instead of self-abusing character. Something wasn't adding up.

Her new, pretty feet were growing cold so Lucy hastened back to the bed, covering them once more in the thick, down-soft blankets. They were edged with something that looked like real fur and felt like it, too. Hopefully nothing endangered had given its life for that piece of tasteless decor.

The silence was getting to her, now that she couldn't occupy herself with exploring. She hadn't even realized how used she was to hearing other peoples' footsteps above her in the dorms, the cars driving outside and an occasional siren. The oppressive nothingness that filled the air here seemed to press on her head, her ears slightly ringing.

Just to hear something, she started talking to herself. "Alright, I can deal with this …"

And immediately stopped, because not only was her voice unfamiliar - deep and sensual - but because she was speaking in a language she had never heard before.

Before she could think about it more deeply, a timid knock sounded against one of the wall panels across the room, ringing through the silence and almost giving her a heart attack. Flinching, she huddled deeper into the blanket. She hadn't even realized there was a hidden door or more than one way to enter this room except the big, double doors. Silence once again reigned, before another knock sounded, this time even more slowly, followed by a soft, childish voice: "Your Grace, have you awakened? Is this servant allowed to enter?"

Hearing another human voice, though she also spoke the unfamiliar language, actually managed to calm Lucy's frantic heartbeat down. Not a ghost or demon hidden inside the wall then.

But who addressed themselves like that? 'This servant'? The former owner of this body had to have a really strange taste, hidden panels and 'servants'. Lucy cleared her throat. Ignoring the wall-dwelling and power play, she should probably say something before the silence stretched further. "Come in."

The panel swung open and a girl around thirteen or fourteen stepped onto the carpet, bowing. She was thin and small, her shoulders hunched and her head lowered, dressed in a high-necked, beige dress. Standing among all the shining luxuries of the room she looked like a little drab mouse that had sneaked into the pantry.

Silence ticked on for a few seconds, the girl not straightening or even glancing up, before Lucy realized it was probably up to her to speak. Considering her situation, this was as good an opportunity as any to learn more about her current body. If she wanted to get through this she couldn't hide out alone in this gold-plated room for the rest of her days. Hesitating for a moment, she finally said: "Get up. I have some questions for you."

The girl flinched and straightened maybe an inch, her shoulders still huddled. "This servant is incompetent, Your Grace. Please punish this servant until Your Grace's heart is settled."

Hoo boy. Lucy could already tell that this place would be loads of fun. Trying not to grimace and to keep her voice nonchalant, she continued. "No punishment. I'm just wondering about some things."

If possible, the girl tensed even more. "This servant listens and obeys, Your Grace."

How to word this? Lucy couldn't simply come out and ask where or who she was, it would draw suspicions. And if this girl wasn't putting on some kind of fetish play, then the woman she had possessed was probably important. Adding into the fact that she didn't even recognize the language - though she could speak it as if this body had a built-in auto-translate - she was probably quite far from home.

Lucy decided to go with something simple. "Tell me what you think of this place."

This time, the girl glanced up with startled eyes. Her features weren't remarkable, a pointy nose and thin eyebrows, but she wasn't exactly ugly either. Just … plain. "This … place? The Queen's chamber, Your Grace?"

Queen? Keeping a straight face was becoming more difficult, but Lucy somehow managed to press forth a single: "Yes."

The girl's breathing turned flat. Despite the surreal situation, Lucy was strangely reminded of herself when she faced a question in a test she hadn't prepared for.

Flicking her wide eyes firmly back onto the elaborate carpet the girl started in a quiet voice: "It is the most beautiful chamber in His Majesties' castle, but still no match for Your Grace's radiance. No room is fit to house Your Grace, not even if piled with all the marble and pearls in the world, no sheet fit to lay Your Grace's body to rest on, no matter how finely woven and precious, no tub fit to bathe Your Grace even if it was cut from pure diamond and filled with morning dew."

When Lucy didn't answer, slightly stumped by the over-the-top flattery, the girl continued, her voice more firm. "This servant thinks that His Majesties' love and consideration for Your Grace fill this room, as His Majesty is stunned and overwhelmed by Your Grace's beauty, as is everyone who ever laid eyes on Your Grace."

His Majesty, huh. So there was a man, and probably a husband, for this body. It didn't come as a surprise, considering she was more pretty than any starlet Lucy had ever seen on magazine covers, but still … Lucy wasn't ready to be married. And it sounded like she was married to … a king. "Tell me more about His Majesty."

The girl had apparently arrived at the conclusion that Lucy wanted to be flattered this morning, so did her best to spin a poetic tale. "One glance at Your Grace, and His Majesties' cold heart was ignited with love. No woman other than Your Grace was able to hold His Majesties' favor because in the whole kingdom there is no woman more perfect or beautiful than Your Grace. Every good thing His Majesty got hold off, he gifted to Your Grace to show his devotion and un-ending love. The ceremony held to celebrate Your Grace's union spanned a whole week and all of Cardawock rejoiced in the festivities, praising His Majesties' renewed happiness."

Where the hell was Cardawock? She had never heard of that place before and Geography was actually not one of her many weak subjects. Something else niggled at Lucy's mind as well. "Renewed?"

The girl flinched as if struck. Before Lucy could react the girl almost folded herself in half with an abrupt bow, her voice high-pitched with fear. "This servant is uncouth and doesn't deserve her tongue. This servant regrets her words, this servant has a slow mind and doesn't think before she utters foul speech, this servant …"

"Enough."

The girl froze in terror.

Lucy kept her exhausted sigh inaudible. The original owner had to have been a real terror, to inspire such fear in the little thing. And if she didn't want a swarm of exorcists to storm the door, she had to keep up the impression, at least to some degree. If there were talking ghost mirrors and body-possessions, she wouldn't rule out exorcists, although she would prefer to ignore the existence of both. So, no matter how much Lucy wanted to reassure the girl that she wouldn't pluck her tongue from her head, or whatever else she was currently imaging, she instead continued with her inquiry. "Explain your words."

"The thoughtless speech of this servant deserves no explanation, this servant accepts her punishment …"

"Explain."

"Y-your Grace …" The girl stammered, sweat gleaming on her pale forehead. She forcibly swallowed a few times, maybe repressing the urge to hurl. "This servant was simply referring to … the First Queen."

When Lucy didn't blow her top and order her immediate execution, it seemed to bolster the little girl as she continued quickly: "Although the First Queen bore the royal seed, the price was steep. The only one beautiful and charming enough to rouse His Majesties' heart after his loss is Your Grace, no one in all the land more fair or generous than Your Grace. The stars weep upon the radiance of Your Grace …"

Lucy let the little girl blabber on, as the endless flattery seemed to reassure her and calm her down. She already learned quite a bit and was currently processing all the information. Plainly put, this body was apparently married to a widowed king and stepmother to a little prince or princess in a land she hadn't heard of before, where royalty probably still held quite a public role. A question that haunted her mind though was if this body had 'born the royal seed' as well, but she couldn't very well ask after her own children if there was a possibility she might not have any.

But she could ask after the child of the former wife. How to phrase her question though? She didn't even know the gender or age of the child. But before leaving these rooms, Lucy wanted to be as prepared for her role as possible. She needed to know about her relationships with the different people she could encounter, to not arouse suspicion.

It was quite obvious how she treated her attendants, if the example standing before her was anything to go by (were there no workplace laws in this country?) and if there was even a grain of truth to the embellished flattery, her husband should love her, at least enough to make an honest woman out of her and crown her queen - though they apparently slept separately. But how old had the child been when she entered the household? Did she treat it fairly or was she the typical evil stepmother? For that matter, how long had she been married? And there was the possible matter of her own children …

Before her head could start spinning with all the questions and scenarios, Lucy quickly blurted out: "Her child …"

The girl's current praise stuttered on her breath at the interruption. She stopped her long-winded speech to once again enact a deer in headlights impression. "Your Grace? Might you be referring to Her missing Highness?"

A girl, then. But why 'missing'? Was she living far away, maybe studying abroad? Or was it a more sinister scenario, kidnapped or deceased?

"Yes." What could she say that would make even a smidge of sense … "How is His Majesty dealing with it?"

There, nice and neutral. The question made sense in either scenario and it could be played as concern for her husband.

The girl paused, fidgeting slightly. She seemed to consider how much to say, but Lucy didn't hurry her. Finally she opened her mouth: "After Snow White's disappearance …"

Lucy's mind screeched to a halt. She didn't hear whatever the girl was saying next, her head filled with static.

Snow White? The girl was called Snow White?

As in the fairy tale, Snow White?

Things started clicking into place. Talking mirror, step-mother, Queen …

She was so fucked.