Eirwen (Snow White) 4/?
Mar. 29th, 2011 07:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meridian_roseTitle: Eirwen (Snow White)
Fandom: Original Fic based on the Snow White fairytale
Rating: PG-13 (at least for now)
Word Count: 1891
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Snow White - but maybe they're wrong. Snow White wasn't the innocent victim but the villain of the piece.
Notes: Concrit and discussion welcomed. Eirwen is Welsh for Snow White.
part one part two part three part four part five
Chapter Four
Eirwen found herself confronted by seven men. They were not tall like her father; none of them in fact, was as tall as she was. The only one who might have been was hunched over, as if deformed.
"I am Princess Eirwen," she said haughtily. These men were the dirtiest commoners she had ever laid eyes upon, covered in grime and smelling of sweat and damp.
"Princess?" the man who'd addressed her said sceptically. "I doubt that a royal would be wandering out here in just her petticoats."
Eirwen flushed, which was quite a sight upon her pale skin. She tugged her cloak tighter around her. "Do you not know me?"
The hunched man moved forward to look closer at her. "She looks like a royal," he said. "None as white skinned as that has never worked outside, and I'd wager those delicate hands have never worked a loom or scrubbed pots."
The smallest man, whose face seemed to be mostly beard peered up at her. "Princess, you say? From the east or from the west? Either way you're a long way from home."
"From the east," Eirwen said. She suddenly realised she was indeed a very long way from home, and that her royal blood might not give her the protection it would back in the palace's walls.
"We have no business with those in the east," another of the men said gruffly. "The Black Mountain is the boundary of those lands. We pay them no mind and they us none."
"What are you doing out here?" asked another of them, softly. "And all alone, at that?"
"I ran away," Eirwen said, and, with a sudden flash of inspiration, "because of my wicked stepmother."
The men muttered at this and Eirwen, knowing how to use vulnerability to full effect, said, "She is jealous of my beauty. She, er, has a magic mirror. And it told her I was fairer than her, and she was furious. So she had her huntsman take me out into the woods to be killed!"
The lies came easily and were working their evil charms on the men. Eirwen knew that even the most brutish of men could often be swayed by a suitable display of feminine wiles.
"How are you alive then?" the gruff man asked.
Eirwen chewed on her lip and thought quickly. "I begged him to let me go," she said. She fell to her knees as if re-enacting the tragic scene. "Please, kind sir, you are not a killer of children. Please let me go."
"Oh, you poor thing," said the soft voiced man.
"And so he took my dress and tore it to shreds," Eirwen said. With sudden inspiration she added, "Then he killed a deer, so he could smear the dress with blood. He, er, took the heart, so my stepmother would think that I were dead."
The hunched man squinted at her. "I've heard the things royals get up to," he said with distaste. "Always murdering each other to get the throne."
"She'll have to stay with us tonight," the soft-voiced man said.
"You're too soft," complained another of the men.
"We can't turn her out, princess or not," the other protested. "It's dark out and there are wolves in the forest. And robbers."
"Aye," agreed the leader of the men – or at least the one who seemed to Eirwen to be in charge. "She'll be safer with us a while. What was your name again? We'll no be addressing you as Princess."
"Eirwen," she said, angry at his dismissal of her title, but relieved they weren't going to send her out into the dark.
"I'm Don. This is Cedric," he said, pointing to the softly spoken man. He pointed to the other five men and named them, too. Fulton was the gruff voiced man; Emery the man who thought Cedric was 'too soft'; Gil was the small, bearded man, and Hoyt the man with the hunched back.
"You're very dirty," Eirwen said, manners forgotten now she was assured of a place to sleep.
"So would you be," Don told her, "if you'd been mining all day. We work the caves in the mountain there, seeking metals and gemstones."
"You don't even have a bath," Eirwen said.
"Of course we do," said Cedric. "It's outside."
The men marched back outside – Eirwen followed - and around to the back of the cottage. There was a small wooden outhouse nearby and a tin bath leaning against the cottage.
"If it's very cold we take it inside," Cedric said. "But when it's warm, we bathe outdoors."
Eirwen had never heard of such an indignity. Still, she wouldn't be here long, and she'd just have to make do.
The men moved back and forth from the cottage, bringing hot water boiled in a cauldron over the fire to fill up the bath. Then they all stripped off their shirts – Eirwen couldn't tear her eyes away, amazed at their brazenness – and washed themselves as best they could, passing one bar of soap between them. The dirt of their day's activities gathered in the tin bath, leaving their skin clean.
Emery's skin was a dark colour and he grinned at Eirwen's astonished gaze.
"We're like opposites," he said, "with you pale as snow and me as dark as ebony."
Gil's skin was a warm brown, this being more obvious on his chest than on his bearded face. The rest of the men looked like any other commoner in her kingdom; varying shades of pale skin – she'd expected them to be sun-browned until she remembered that they spent all day in the caves, away from the sun.
Emery was clean shaven, as was Cedric. Don had stubble while Fulton and Hoyt wore moustaches. Cedric was the only one with fairer hair – a very light brown. Only nobles wore full beards in her kingdom, and the commoners tended to shave very well, like Emery, or haphazardly, like Don.
"I suppose you'll be wanting some supper," Don said as he towelled himself dry. His muscles were well developed from swinging a pickaxe all day long.
"Yes, please," Eirwen said, hoping politeness would get her a decent meal.
"Sometimes it's stew," Gil said. "But we didn’t prepare today any so it'll have to be a cold plate."
"Wherever will she sit?" Cedric asked. "We had to make a new chair when Fulton moved in."
"She can have my seat," Hoyt offered. "I can sit on one of the apple boxes from the barn."
He shuffled off to a small structure almost hidden amongst the trees at the edge of the clearing.
"Why is his back like that?" Eirwen asked.
"The mine," Cedric said. "He's taller than any of us, or was. He's spent so long bent over in the tunnels that he can longer straighten up – and then his shoulder was damaged in a cave-in last year. It's a terrible pity."
"Yes," Eirwen said faintly. At royal visits the deformed riff-raff were kept away and only the better dressed commoners were allowed near the king. Pity in her world consisted of charitable sums given to those who actually wanted to spent time with the less fortunate.
Supper was apparently whatever Emery and Fulton could find in the kitchen. Bread, cheese, a bit of ham, and some onions. Cedric brought apples he'd picked in the garden, and Hoyt poured ale into cups. There was an extra plate for Eirwen, but Hoyt poured his ale into a small bowl, there being no spare cups.
"Poor thing, you look half starved," Cedric said. Eirwen watched him give her more than an equal share of the meagre meal.
"Give her the ham," Don said. "Get some colour in her cheeks."
"I don't think nobles have colour," Cedric said doubtfully. "I think they stay indoors. Making laws and…counting their gold."
Eirwen suppressed a laugh at that and chewed at the tough bread.
"I wish we had butter," Emery said.
"Well until we get a new cow or a goat, you'll have to do without," Gil said. "And without milk, mind."
"One of us needs to go to market, fetch more supplies," Don said. "We've enough coin, eh?"
"For a little while," Fulton said. "We need to go and trade our metals out north again, or find a decent stone or two for the southern merchants."
Food had always just appeared at Eirwen's request. Going without milk was unthinkable in the castle. That people had to struggle to make a living was something she was only vaguely aware of.
"What are we doing to do with you?" Emery asked as he cleared the table. "I mean, you said your stepmother has a magic mirror. Maybe she could use it to find you, if she doesn’t believe the hunter's story. Deer hearts are not exactly like human hearts."
Eirwen was discomforted at this; partly that Emery knew so much about hearts, and partly at the thought of being tracked by magic before she was ready to be found.
"No," Gil said. "Magic won't work past the Black Mountain. Full of iron. Magic don't like iron. Fairies especially hate it."
The other men nodded in agreement. So she was safe for now, Eirwen thought. She'd have to check her charms book and see what it said about iron.
"We can talk more in the morning," Don said, stifling a yawn. "I'm ready for my bed."
"Where's Eirwen going to sleep?" Emery asked.
"She can have my bed," Fulton offered.
"I don't think that's very proper," Cedric told him. "Besides, Gil snores and he'll keep her awake all night."
"I do not!"
"You do, loud enough to rattle the timbers," Don said. "Eirwen can sleep in the kitchen, near the fire. That'll keep her delicate princess bones warm."
Eirwen pondered the horror sleeping in a kitchen compared to the horror of sleeping sandwiched between the commoners, one of whom snored.
Cedric climbed the ladder and brought down a blanket. "It's the only spare one we have," he said. Emery and Fulton offered their own spare blankets from their beds and Gil gave her his pillow.
Eirwen had to use a lantern to find her way around the cottage to the outhouse, and then tiptoe back around, trying not to get muddy. She curled up in her nest of borrowed bedding by the fire, which had been carefully damped down by Hoyt, and tried to sleep. It was a most undignified place for a princess to sleep, but it was nevertheless comfortable enough that she fell asleep.
"Do you think they are looking for her?" Cedric whispered to Don when he was sure Eirwen was asleep. "With dogs and things, not magic."
"Not if they're thinking she's dead," Don said. "I doubt a queen knows the difference between a deer heart and a girl's heart. Still, Eirwen said the queen was her stepmother. Wonder what her father, the king, has been told about this?"
"Maybe he's dead," Cedric said in hushed tones. "Poor child, almost orphaned."
There was a rustle as Gil sat up on the other side of Don. "Do you think there'd be a reward if they are looking?"
"We're not handing her over to a wicked stepmother," Don said firmly.
Gil sighed in reluctant agreement.
"And no-one lays a finger on her," Don added. "Or else."
Fandom: Original Fic based on the Snow White fairytale
Rating: PG-13 (at least for now)
Word Count: 1891
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Snow White - but maybe they're wrong. Snow White wasn't the innocent victim but the villain of the piece.
Notes: Concrit and discussion welcomed. Eirwen is Welsh for Snow White.
part one part two part three part four part five
Chapter Four
Eirwen found herself confronted by seven men. They were not tall like her father; none of them in fact, was as tall as she was. The only one who might have been was hunched over, as if deformed.
"I am Princess Eirwen," she said haughtily. These men were the dirtiest commoners she had ever laid eyes upon, covered in grime and smelling of sweat and damp.
"Princess?" the man who'd addressed her said sceptically. "I doubt that a royal would be wandering out here in just her petticoats."
Eirwen flushed, which was quite a sight upon her pale skin. She tugged her cloak tighter around her. "Do you not know me?"
The hunched man moved forward to look closer at her. "She looks like a royal," he said. "None as white skinned as that has never worked outside, and I'd wager those delicate hands have never worked a loom or scrubbed pots."
The smallest man, whose face seemed to be mostly beard peered up at her. "Princess, you say? From the east or from the west? Either way you're a long way from home."
"From the east," Eirwen said. She suddenly realised she was indeed a very long way from home, and that her royal blood might not give her the protection it would back in the palace's walls.
"We have no business with those in the east," another of the men said gruffly. "The Black Mountain is the boundary of those lands. We pay them no mind and they us none."
"What are you doing out here?" asked another of them, softly. "And all alone, at that?"
"I ran away," Eirwen said, and, with a sudden flash of inspiration, "because of my wicked stepmother."
The men muttered at this and Eirwen, knowing how to use vulnerability to full effect, said, "She is jealous of my beauty. She, er, has a magic mirror. And it told her I was fairer than her, and she was furious. So she had her huntsman take me out into the woods to be killed!"
The lies came easily and were working their evil charms on the men. Eirwen knew that even the most brutish of men could often be swayed by a suitable display of feminine wiles.
"How are you alive then?" the gruff man asked.
Eirwen chewed on her lip and thought quickly. "I begged him to let me go," she said. She fell to her knees as if re-enacting the tragic scene. "Please, kind sir, you are not a killer of children. Please let me go."
"Oh, you poor thing," said the soft voiced man.
"And so he took my dress and tore it to shreds," Eirwen said. With sudden inspiration she added, "Then he killed a deer, so he could smear the dress with blood. He, er, took the heart, so my stepmother would think that I were dead."
The hunched man squinted at her. "I've heard the things royals get up to," he said with distaste. "Always murdering each other to get the throne."
"She'll have to stay with us tonight," the soft-voiced man said.
"You're too soft," complained another of the men.
"We can't turn her out, princess or not," the other protested. "It's dark out and there are wolves in the forest. And robbers."
"Aye," agreed the leader of the men – or at least the one who seemed to Eirwen to be in charge. "She'll be safer with us a while. What was your name again? We'll no be addressing you as Princess."
"Eirwen," she said, angry at his dismissal of her title, but relieved they weren't going to send her out into the dark.
"I'm Don. This is Cedric," he said, pointing to the softly spoken man. He pointed to the other five men and named them, too. Fulton was the gruff voiced man; Emery the man who thought Cedric was 'too soft'; Gil was the small, bearded man, and Hoyt the man with the hunched back.
"You're very dirty," Eirwen said, manners forgotten now she was assured of a place to sleep.
"So would you be," Don told her, "if you'd been mining all day. We work the caves in the mountain there, seeking metals and gemstones."
"You don't even have a bath," Eirwen said.
"Of course we do," said Cedric. "It's outside."
The men marched back outside – Eirwen followed - and around to the back of the cottage. There was a small wooden outhouse nearby and a tin bath leaning against the cottage.
"If it's very cold we take it inside," Cedric said. "But when it's warm, we bathe outdoors."
Eirwen had never heard of such an indignity. Still, she wouldn't be here long, and she'd just have to make do.
The men moved back and forth from the cottage, bringing hot water boiled in a cauldron over the fire to fill up the bath. Then they all stripped off their shirts – Eirwen couldn't tear her eyes away, amazed at their brazenness – and washed themselves as best they could, passing one bar of soap between them. The dirt of their day's activities gathered in the tin bath, leaving their skin clean.
Emery's skin was a dark colour and he grinned at Eirwen's astonished gaze.
"We're like opposites," he said, "with you pale as snow and me as dark as ebony."
Gil's skin was a warm brown, this being more obvious on his chest than on his bearded face. The rest of the men looked like any other commoner in her kingdom; varying shades of pale skin – she'd expected them to be sun-browned until she remembered that they spent all day in the caves, away from the sun.
Emery was clean shaven, as was Cedric. Don had stubble while Fulton and Hoyt wore moustaches. Cedric was the only one with fairer hair – a very light brown. Only nobles wore full beards in her kingdom, and the commoners tended to shave very well, like Emery, or haphazardly, like Don.
"I suppose you'll be wanting some supper," Don said as he towelled himself dry. His muscles were well developed from swinging a pickaxe all day long.
"Yes, please," Eirwen said, hoping politeness would get her a decent meal.
"Sometimes it's stew," Gil said. "But we didn’t prepare today any so it'll have to be a cold plate."
"Wherever will she sit?" Cedric asked. "We had to make a new chair when Fulton moved in."
"She can have my seat," Hoyt offered. "I can sit on one of the apple boxes from the barn."
He shuffled off to a small structure almost hidden amongst the trees at the edge of the clearing.
"Why is his back like that?" Eirwen asked.
"The mine," Cedric said. "He's taller than any of us, or was. He's spent so long bent over in the tunnels that he can longer straighten up – and then his shoulder was damaged in a cave-in last year. It's a terrible pity."
"Yes," Eirwen said faintly. At royal visits the deformed riff-raff were kept away and only the better dressed commoners were allowed near the king. Pity in her world consisted of charitable sums given to those who actually wanted to spent time with the less fortunate.
Supper was apparently whatever Emery and Fulton could find in the kitchen. Bread, cheese, a bit of ham, and some onions. Cedric brought apples he'd picked in the garden, and Hoyt poured ale into cups. There was an extra plate for Eirwen, but Hoyt poured his ale into a small bowl, there being no spare cups.
"Poor thing, you look half starved," Cedric said. Eirwen watched him give her more than an equal share of the meagre meal.
"Give her the ham," Don said. "Get some colour in her cheeks."
"I don't think nobles have colour," Cedric said doubtfully. "I think they stay indoors. Making laws and…counting their gold."
Eirwen suppressed a laugh at that and chewed at the tough bread.
"I wish we had butter," Emery said.
"Well until we get a new cow or a goat, you'll have to do without," Gil said. "And without milk, mind."
"One of us needs to go to market, fetch more supplies," Don said. "We've enough coin, eh?"
"For a little while," Fulton said. "We need to go and trade our metals out north again, or find a decent stone or two for the southern merchants."
Food had always just appeared at Eirwen's request. Going without milk was unthinkable in the castle. That people had to struggle to make a living was something she was only vaguely aware of.
"What are we doing to do with you?" Emery asked as he cleared the table. "I mean, you said your stepmother has a magic mirror. Maybe she could use it to find you, if she doesn’t believe the hunter's story. Deer hearts are not exactly like human hearts."
Eirwen was discomforted at this; partly that Emery knew so much about hearts, and partly at the thought of being tracked by magic before she was ready to be found.
"No," Gil said. "Magic won't work past the Black Mountain. Full of iron. Magic don't like iron. Fairies especially hate it."
The other men nodded in agreement. So she was safe for now, Eirwen thought. She'd have to check her charms book and see what it said about iron.
"We can talk more in the morning," Don said, stifling a yawn. "I'm ready for my bed."
"Where's Eirwen going to sleep?" Emery asked.
"She can have my bed," Fulton offered.
"I don't think that's very proper," Cedric told him. "Besides, Gil snores and he'll keep her awake all night."
"I do not!"
"You do, loud enough to rattle the timbers," Don said. "Eirwen can sleep in the kitchen, near the fire. That'll keep her delicate princess bones warm."
Eirwen pondered the horror sleeping in a kitchen compared to the horror of sleeping sandwiched between the commoners, one of whom snored.
Cedric climbed the ladder and brought down a blanket. "It's the only spare one we have," he said. Emery and Fulton offered their own spare blankets from their beds and Gil gave her his pillow.
Eirwen had to use a lantern to find her way around the cottage to the outhouse, and then tiptoe back around, trying not to get muddy. She curled up in her nest of borrowed bedding by the fire, which had been carefully damped down by Hoyt, and tried to sleep. It was a most undignified place for a princess to sleep, but it was nevertheless comfortable enough that she fell asleep.
"Do you think they are looking for her?" Cedric whispered to Don when he was sure Eirwen was asleep. "With dogs and things, not magic."
"Not if they're thinking she's dead," Don said. "I doubt a queen knows the difference between a deer heart and a girl's heart. Still, Eirwen said the queen was her stepmother. Wonder what her father, the king, has been told about this?"
"Maybe he's dead," Cedric said in hushed tones. "Poor child, almost orphaned."
There was a rustle as Gil sat up on the other side of Don. "Do you think there'd be a reward if they are looking?"
"We're not handing her over to a wicked stepmother," Don said firmly.
Gil sighed in reluctant agreement.
"And no-one lays a finger on her," Don added. "Or else."
no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 09:43 am (UTC)Despite the problems of trying to manage seven extra characters, I wanted to make them real people with names and personalities - not odd dwarfs but men of smaller stature with their own hopes and dreams.
I'm going to read up on the original tales a bit now you've mentioned that because I'm mostly familiar with the Disney version, and the fairy tale version in which the stepmother is punished with the hot iron shoes. I'm not so sure about 'slaves' though they're always enamoured with her - and Eirwen is just deliberately using her beauty for the same effect.
I always think of Snow White as becoming the housekeeper to earn her keep, but Eirwen is not going to like that at all :D
Thanks for commenting and giving me things to think about :D
no subject
Date: 2011-03-30 11:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 09:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-07-28 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-07-28 07:07 pm (UTC)We can hope :P