The Snow Queen Also Became a Story

The Snow Queen Also Became a Story

Hecate

Summary:

It was a spell, he tells himself, and knows it to be true. Prince Andrew Alcott (from Mirror Mirror) remembers being under the effect of the love potion that the wicked queen Clementianna made him unwittingly drink.

Notes:

Don't archive/translate without asking. Not mine, no money made. Title taken from a quote of the sci-fi Snow Queen by Joan D. Vinge.

Work Text:

Clementianna knew the moment she saw the prince that he was to be her new husband. It was simply too perfect! The Baron had just been bugging her about marrying her, and there was no way she was getting married to a man with white hair again! Plus, it had been ten years since her last husband’s disappearance and presumed death, surely no one would bother her again with things like mourning and wearing black.

When the prince presented himself in front of her, half-naked after that fortunat… Unfortunate attack of brigands, it was love at first sight – those abs just had to belong to her.

At first, everything seemed to be going perfectly. The ball was organized accordingly to her wishes, and that small problem of finances was going to be resolved with the new taxes.

Then Snow White, that nosy brat, just had to ruin it. Clementianna got rid of her – at least Brighten did – and then there was no other distraction for the Prince.

She still had to use some love potion since the fool seemed so able at resisting her charms. She was only thirty years old (according to the law she had declared that punished of death anyone suggesting she was older), and the most beautiful woman in the land, how could he not be naturally attracted to her?

Anyhow. Her fifth wedding day approached. It promised to be as perfect as the last, even more so since her husband-to-be was someone she’d enjoy spending time with. Probably. She was still as excited as she was when she was sixteen!

Then everything went to hell. The prince was kidnapped, Snow White, who wasn’t dead, proved to be an problem extremely annoying and then the beast that had plagued the kingdom and justify her unquestioned rule turned back into the king and –

Clementianna looked old. That brat, that little bitch! She made her ugly by breaking one of the spells! By breaking one, she released on Clementianna the consequences of every last favors she had asked.

With every step she took, Clementianna heard the laugh of her reflection in the Mirror resonating in her ears.

She still had one trick up her sleeve. She would have her revenge, she would!

Clementianna walked into the brat’s wedding to a man that rightfully belonged to her, caressing the apple under her cloak. Yes, one last treat for the ungrateful raven haired girl.

It didn’t go as planned. And when Snow White gave her a piece of the poisoned apple, daring her to eat what she had tried to use against her, a smile on her blood red lips, Clementianna wondered how anyone could think of this girl as an innocent little princess. She only saw a future queen, a blood-thirsty monster worse than anything Clementianna ever was.

Clementianna was petty, she was egoist, she was vain, she didn’t care much about the life of others, she spent too much money… But she wasn’t cruel like Snow White. Clementianna didn’t think her ex-husbands would disagree. She had after all married them, doing them the extreme honor of being associated with the most beautiful woman in the land. They had been in her arms, in her bed, they died happy – well, except for the king, who could count himself even luckier. He didn’t die and became a powerful being, all thanks to her!

This was a sad end to a beautiful story, Clementianna’s story.

At least, she thought, she got to die on one last beautiful wedding… Clementianna always loved a good wedding. Too bad it wasn’t hers.

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The ice breaks up on a lake in the forest the day he marries Snow White. A girl freezes to death ere she can drown. He only finds out about it days later when he rides through the village, his body warm from Snow White's embrace. He finds out because the girl's mother wears black and she's a raven in the town that turned colourful overnight.

He gives her gold coins for the funeral; she doesn't even pretend to smile. He's grateful for that.

He rides on. The snow is melting and the ice breaks. The forest is turning green now, deeper and darker with the colour. All the light between the trees is gone with the snow that threw it around like it was a game only the two of them knew. He expected the forest's beauty to grow with the spring. He was wrong.

He finds the remains of the dwarves' hut, broken wood and broken furniture littering the ground like rotting bones. When he returns to the castle, he tells Snow White that the world outside of the stone walls surrounding them is more beautiful now. He lies, of course. The world is simply going on.

He dreams of the queen that night, dreams of the way he loved her, adored her. He wakes up in darkness, Snow White soft and warm at his side, and he reaches out to wake her. "I love you," he says, and pushes at the memory that wants to come to the surface, the memory of the queen's face.

It was a spell, he tells himself, and knows it to be true.

Days pass, turning into weeks, and the ice breaks. Springtime, then summer embraces the castle and the kingdom, warm and yellow, and Snow White's skin changes beneath it. In the mornings, when she kisses him, her lips taste of apples. He loves her. When he sleeps, he loves another. When he dreams, the world turns lighter, colours escaping the scenery. It's cold.

When he wakes, the snow is gone.

He tries to ask the king if he loved the queen before the magic but he fails to find the words. The king only looks at him, eyes dark with the missing years and the women he lost. He never tries again.

In the height of summer, the fields catch fire, the soil too dry.

The people will go hungry in winter. But they're used to it. Springtime, then summer goes on. He spends his time in the crypt deep beneath the castle, the stones cold beneath his fingertips. He remembers kissing Snow White in winter then, remembers the taste of strawberries and the splinters of a broken spell in his heart. When he walks up into summer, Snow White is waiting for him. Her skin is too warm when she takes his hand. But he goes where she leads him, like a fox-dog on a leash, and he thinks of the queen.

Autumn paints the world in new shades of red, like the lips of a mother and the blood of a lost daughter. The wind chases the leaves through the villages and across the lake, and they fly into a room no one lives in anymore. He collects them all and lets them fall from the balcony. When he turns, the wind is dancing with the bedsheets, and he imagines the queen sleeping beneath them.

He leaves the room and never returns to it.

There are rumours about an enemy, stories about a kingdom that prepares for war, and their country closes in on itself. The king builds up his army again and Snow White stops smiling.

"He left like that before," she tells him, voice broken. "She made him leave."

He holds her hand then, tries to smile for her, and says: "But he returned. And she died."

Outside, he sees snow falling again, and he thinks of the way it used to cover the kingdom. He fell in love with a princess back then. But he never forgot the queen. And winter is coming.