Snowfall

Chapter the First
Once upon a time, a young king and queen sat together under a black juniper tree.  It was their favorite place to go when they wished to be alone and escape for a little while the troubles and turmoils of court life, for it was under this same juniper tree that they had first met one another.  On this occasion, it was a cold winter's day, and the snow lay white all around them.  The queen was embroidering a shawl with the image of a bear while the king sliced an apple with his hunting-knife.

All of a sudden, the queen's nimble fingers slipped from the cold and the needle pricked her ring-finger.  She gave a small cry of pain, causing the king to fumble with his knife and cut his own finger.  He reached over and took his wife's wounded hand in his, smiling slightly at the irony of their plight.  As they held their pierced hands together, three drops of blood slowly fell from them, one after the other, forming a small star of red on the white snow.  The pair gazed at the star silently until the queen said, "Would it not be lovely, my dearest, to have a little child who was as white as this snow and as red as our own blood?"  The king agreed that it would be lovely indeed.

Not long afterward, their wish came true and the queen conceived a beautiful child who, as she grew, possessed skin whiter than the purest snow, with lips and cheeks as rosy as anyone could wish.  The king and queen were both delighted, and thought themselves the happiest parents in all the world.  They did not realize that, through their daughter's raven-black hair, a little bit of the juniper tree had crept into their lives.


Chapter the Second
When little Snowfall was only four years old, her mother fell very ill.  All the color drained from her face, and she could not sleep at night for all the blood she coughed up.  The king sent his servants to the four corners of his kingdom to find a remedy, but to no avail.  For five days the queen lay in torment, and on the morning of the sixth day, Snowfall awoke to the sound of a faint rustling outside her door.  Peering into the hallway, she saw a dark figure walking the palace hall.  As soon as she set eyes on it, her heart sunk, though she did not know why.

Filled with dread, she followed the figure into her mother's bedroom, where the king her father knelt tearfully by his wife's bedside.  The black-robed figure approached the bed and lifted the queen into its arms.  As it bore her beloved mother out of the room, Snowfall screamed in protest and tried to run after it, but her father took hold of her from behind and restrained her with his loving arms.  She fought against him, but soon gave up and collapsed against her father, weeping uncontrollably into his arms.  He held her close and laid his hand on her dark, dark hair as death laid his wife to rest under the juniper tree.


Chapter the Third
Snowfall never forgot her mother, but she began to fear that her father had.  While she went to sit by her mother's grave under the tree every day, the king joined her less and less frequently as time passed.  Before long, he would visit the grave only twice each year: the anniversaries of her death and their wedding.

Truth be told, he did not forget his wife, and on the days that he did spend under the juniper tree, he would remain there alone all day, playing his violin, singing, and shedding a few tears.  But he knew that he needed to carry on with his life rather than live every day in the past.  And so he devoted his time to ruling his kingdom, raising his beloved daughter, and seeking a new queen.  At long last he found her in the North Kingdom.

O wretched and accursed kingdom, to have given birth to such a vile, malignant woman!  How much better it would have been if she had never been born!

But, alas, at the time the king met her, there were but few who knew of her jealous, cruel, and malicious nature.  She shrouded her true self behind bewitching veils of beauty & charm, and all who met her were captivated.  Snowfall's father was no exception.

His new bride did not love him, or Snowfall, or anyone in their kingdom.  Nor did she care for her own family or the kingdom where she was born.  There was only one person that she loved, and it was herself.  Every morning, she would stand before her mirror and bow to the ground before her own reflection.  Then, standing erect once more, she would say,

Beloved mirror, hear my prayer:

Am I the fairest of the fair?

And every time, her reflection would smile charmingly back at her, and she would know that it was true.

The years went by, and the queen became greatly beloved in her new land, for all who saw her fell prey to the spell of her charms.  Lords and princes would travel great distances for the chance to see her, and her court became exceedingly popular.

One day, a messenger arrived at the palace, asking to see the king.  He brought greetings and well-wishes from the king of a distant country.  Because the king and queen had gone out riding for the day, the messenger was brought before the young Princess Snowfall, who made a gracious and pleasant hostess.  When the man set eyes on Snowfall, he was astounded, for he had never seen anyone so lovely in all his life.  "If she be the princess, then I can only imagine how the queen must look, for they say she is the more beautiful of the two."  In the evening, the king and queen arrived home and greeted the messenger warmly.  Over supper, their guest could not help glancing from the princess, to the queen, and back to Snowfall.  He was surprised to find that, contrary to what he had been told, Snowfall exceeded her step-mother in grace, kindness, wit, and even beauty.  The queen took notice of all the attention he paid to Snowfall; rage and hatred boiled within her foul heart, but she concealed it.

On the last day of his visit, the messenger spoke to the king of the great regard he had for Snowfall, saying, "I am sure that as soon as my liege's son hears of your daughter's unsurpassed beauty and other excellent qualities, he will wish to meet her as swiftly as possible.  He is in search of a bride, and none will suit him better than your child, if it be your pleasure."  The king was delighted to hear this, for he and the messenger's liege were childhood friends, and there was no man to whose son he would sooner give his daughter's hand in marriage.  And so, bidding a final farewell to the royal family, and with one last glance at the princess, the messenger rode away to bear the good news to his prince.

That night, the king told his wife about what he and the messenger had said.  She was furious inside and found it impossible to sleep.  Long after her husband closed his eyes, she tossed and turned in bed, paced the floor anxiously, and pulled at her lovely hair, which suddenly felt filthy and dry.  She lifted her hands to her face and thought she felt wrinkles and warts all over it.  Finally, as dawn was breaking, she dragged her exhausted body to the mirror and prostrated herself before it, hardly able to gasp out the words,

Beloved mirror, hear my prayer:

Am I the fairest of the fair?

Slowly lifting her head, her heart almost stopped as the first rays of the sun revealed a hideous and repulsive hag glaring at her from the other side of the glass.


Chapter the Fourth
The arrival of the Prince who was to marry Snowfall caused a great deal of excitement in the palace; but there was also much concern, for the princess herself fell ill the day before he arrived.  The queen insisted that the Prince not be introduced to his bride until she should fully recover, in order to make the best first impression possible.  The Prince informed the king and queen that he was willing to wait as long as necessary to meet her.  Little did he know how very long it would be . . .

The days passed, but Snowfall, rather than showing signs of recovery, seemed to grow worse and worse.  Everyone began to grow very anxious about her, especially her father and her lover.  The latter spent his days in the corridors and various rooms near her chambers, as close to her side as he was permitted.  He watched the servants going to and fro, tending to the ailing princess, while he was forced to wait outside her door, powerless to help her.

One day, as he sat dolefully in a chair in a small, little-used corridor, he noticed a servant heading for Snowfall's chamber.  Something about the man made the Prince look twice; he had a strange, almost furtive demeanour about him.  "What is your errand, friend?" inquired the Prince.  The man halted like a man who was hoping desperately not to be halted.  He faced his questioner and replied, "I am tending to the princess."  Bowing hastily, he turned to go but the Prince, rising, called after him, "And tell me, how fares our sweet princess?"  Halting again, he answered reluctantly, "Very ill, your Highness, on account of which I must tend to her immediately."  The Prince caught him by the collar as he attempted to leave and, reaching into the servant's jacket, removed a curious little pouch.  "What is this?"  "Nothing but a remedy for the Princess' illness, I assure you."  The Prince opened it and sniffed cautiously.  "Since when does healing the Princess involve poisoning her?" he demanded, pinning the servant to the wall and dashing the contents of the pouch to the floor.  Even as he did so, however, his vision began to cloud, his limbs grew weak, and, the poison surging through his lungs, the Prince collapsed and knew no more.

* * *

By the time the Prince awoke, the night was far advanced and dawn was in the air.  His head still spinning, he rushed to Snowfall's chambers, calling her name desperately as he burst open the door.  Alas, he was too late, and she was already gone, dead for all he knew.  As he stood breathless, his heart sinking and his mind racing, he heard a woman's cry pierce the night air.  Racing to the king's quarters, he found a dreadful scene awaiting him.  The queen stood terrified, knife in hand, over the bloodied corpses of the king and the very servant the Prince had accosted earlier.  Seeing the Prince, the queen stared at him wide-eyed, gasping, "He-he's killed the king.  He almost got me, but -" her sobs overcame her words, she dropped the knife and rushed into the Prince's arms.
"Where is the princess?" he asked, slowly taking in the night's events.
"She is dead!" sobbed the queen.
His heart fell.  "Where?" he asked, faintly.
"I-I don't know!"
The Prince sat the trembling woman in a chair.  By this time, a number of others had entered the room and there was a great deal of shouting, shrieking, and wailing.  The Prince hardly knew what to do, so he questioned the queen again about Snowfall.  "Where could she be?"
"I tell you I don't know!"
Suddenly, a thought struck the young man.  "How do you know she is dead?"
The queen seemed unprepared for this question.  "He said he killed her."
"But you do not know where her body is?"
She shook her head.
His heart rose: Snowfall may still be alive.  "I must find her."
"Wait!" shrieked the queen, clutching his arm with her shapely hands.  "Don't leave me!"
"You will be safe here, your majesty.  Your daughter may yet live and I must find her as soon as possible.  I promise you that I will bring her back to you, alive or dead as she may be."  Bowing to the queen and giving a knee and short prayer to the fallen king, the Prince rushed out to seek his beloved.


Chapter the Fifth
Snowfall sat with her mother under the juniper tree.  It was winter, but her mother's presence made her feel safe and warm.  Her mother looked at Snowfall with sorrowful eyes and said to her, "I am afraid there are many dangers ahead of you, my child.  That is why I wish to give you this."  She reached her hand into the snow and held up a large drop of blood, which she gently handed to her daughter.  "This is our love for you.  Never part with it, and you will be safe."  As Snowfall cradled the blood in her hands, the snow around them disappeared, followed by the tree; her mother vanished as well, as did the blood-drop, and she found herself lying in her own bed.  A servant was standing over her, holding a torch and urging her desperately to awake.  "What is wrong?" asked the princess.  "They wish to kill you," whispered the servant. "Say nothing more, but follow me."

Rising, Snowfall donned her slippers and wrapped her mother's shawl about her shoulders, though every movement made her weak because of the poison coursing through her body.  She followed the servant through dark and silent hallways, across the courtyard, and through a small side gate leading beyond the palace walls.  The full moon shone brightly overhead, but there was only darkness when they passed into the woods, save for the servant's torch.  When they had gone some ways under the trees, he stopped, saying, "We will rest here.  Sit down, your highness."  She was glad to do so, for her heart was pounding, her feet were half-frozen from the snow, and she felt very ill.  Sitting upon a stone, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath to calm herself.  Then she felt something cold and sharp pressing against her throat.  Opening her eyes, she was horrified to find the servant kneeling before her with a knife.

"My lady," he said.  "When you fell ill, it was because I poisoned you.  And now I am the one trying to kill you.  I would not have chosen to do such deeds, believe me, but your step-mother forced me to.  She is a wretched beast of a woman, who is jealous of your great beauty and seeks to destroy you.  She has sent me to kill you, and I am sorry, but I must obey."

Without saying a word, the princess took his trembling hand in her fair ones and, holding it to her lips, kissed it gently.  Then she smiled softly to her executioner and closed her eyes.  The servant's hand wavered for a moment between her life and death, but he threw the knife away and burst into tears, begging Snowfall to forgive him.

"I already have," she replied.
"Go," he urged.  "Run away.  If you should return to the palace alive heaven only knows what the queen will do."
"I will go.  But you must go to my father and tell him the truth about his queen."
The servant bowed.  "As you wish, your highness.  Now go, and swiftly!"
"Look for me under the juniper tree," she said, and took her flight.

Chapter the Sixth
The winter night was cold and the howling wind swirled the snow through the air like dust, but all was still beneath the juniper tree.  Snowfall collapsed upon her mother's grave, trembling from weariness and cold.  Remembering her dream, she dug in the snow at the head of the grave until her hand closed on something firm and warm.  She drew it out and found it was a beautiful gem that glistened in the moonlight now red, now white, and now black.  Pressing it to her bosom, against her heart, she felt as if life and warmth passed from it into her ailing, wounded self, calming her trembling mind and strengthening her weakened limbs.  All at once, her illness had passed; she lay herself down to sleep by her mother's side.

The next morning, Snowfall awoke to find that the storm had gone and the forest landscape, viewed from the juniper hill, was white with snow that glistened in the morning light.  As she sat serenely, a lone and lovely figure beneath a lone and lovely tree, a cardinal landed in the branches over her head, twittering excitedly.  "You must leave, and leave at once!" he said.  "The queen will waste no time in her search and this is the first place she will look!"

"Have no fear, my dear little bird," replied the princess.  "There is nothing to fear from her now that my father knows the truth.  I am sure that by this time he has put her safely away."

"Your father is dead!" shrieked the cardinal.  "And so is the servant who spared your life.  The queen has killed them both and blamed the servant for the king's death and yours.  She is ruthless, and will stop at nothing to kill you!  Flee!  Flee!  Flee!"

And, still screaming this last word, the bird flew away as suddenly as it had come.  Snowfall rose at once, but lingered a moment before leaving her mother's side.  She knelt down and whispered, "Dear mother, I do not know if I shall ever again return to this place and sit by your side.  And my dearest father, I am sorry that we never had the opportunity to say goodbye.  Please know that you will both always be in my heart, as I am in yours."  And she pressed the gem hard against her bosom.

Rising again, she looked once more at the landscape before her.  No longer did it seem cheerful and welcoming; the dreadful snow reflected the glaring sunlight into her eyes, and the world seemed strange and foreboding.  But with her mother's shawl about her shoulders, and her mother and father's gem against her heart, the royal family stepped down from the hill of the juniper tree, walking with head held high towards exile in the mountains beyond the Eastern borders of their land.

Chapter the Seventh
There was a loud clang, and the door to the pit swung open, letting in a faint gleam of light.  A figure, robed in swirling black, descended the steps, heedless of the low, threatening growl emanating from the dank cell.  The figure halted when it reached the bottom, waiting.  Slowly but steadily, a terrifying and bestial shape emerged from the shadows, advancing towards the intruder.  The latter, undaunted, turned to face the monster and threw back her hood to reveal the golden hair, cold blue eyes, and lush red lips of the queen.  The beast cowered and shrank away as the queen looked down upon it with disdain.  She spoke, "Is it hungry?"

The jailer, a repulsive and maniacal hunchback, had followed the queen halfway down the steps, but was unwilling to go further.  He answered in his high, scratchy voice, "It hasn't eaten in weeks, by your orders, your majesty.  I would be hungry."  He broke into an atrocious cackle at his own cleverness, but faltered at a glance from the queen.

She approached the beast and crouched by its side, stroking its furry head with her black-gloved hand in feigned affection.  The monster bristled, but otherwise remained still.  "Will you listen to me now?" whispered the queen.  "Have you at last repented of defying my demands?"

The beast whimpered and hung its head in defeat.  The queen smiled and stroked its head once more. "I have something for you," she said, and he looked at her with a mixture of expectation and fear.  Reaching into the folds of her cloak, she drew out a lovely white handkerchief which glimmered in the faint light.  Holding it to the beast's muzzle, she allowed him to sniff it.  Recognizing the scent, however, he recoiled and stared at the queen in horror, a defensive growl escaping his throat.  The queen's eyes grew hard and she rose, towering over the creature; she seemed to grow larger, her menacing presence pervading the entire place, smothering all other souls and wills.  The jailer retreated quickly to the door and watched in horrid fascination.  The beast felt his own self slipping away from him, and he tried to hold onto it, but every moment the force of the queen burned into him and he could bear it no longer.  He collapsed, panting heavily.

"Find her," commanded his mistress, "and bring me her heart.  As for the rest of her, you may do what you please.  Fail me, and you shall wish yourself dead."  Turning abruptly on her heel, she climbed the steps and the beast followed her out of the pit and into the forest, where the full moon was just rising and the snow just beginning to fall.  "Make for the juniper hill," she instructed the beast.  "I have no doubt she has been there."

And without another word, the hunter vanished into the night.

Chapter the Eighth
A strange sound, like the crackling of a small fire, met her ears as her mind rose slowly from slumber.  A strange sight, like a stone ceiling, met her eyes as they opened wearily.  Her body felt as if it were wrapped in warm and soft animal skins.  In another moment, Snowfall was fully awake, discovering that it was all in fact true.  She lay in a cozy little room, on a warm bed, with a gentle fire keeping her company.  Sitting up, she gazed around in bewilderment, wondering how on earth she had arrived there.  The last thing she could remember was darkness, ice, and cold.

She had attempted to cross the mountain range at the northern border of her kingdom, which was said to be so cursed as to be impassable.  Travelers always went several hundred miles out of their way to go around it, and no one lived on the mountains save a few scattered tribes of wild men on the lower slopes, but even they dared not climb to the peaks.  Against all reasoning, however, Snowfall had done so.  Something, she knew not what, had urged her to make the climb and so, relying on the strength of her parents' jewel, she had begun her ascent.

At the thought of her jewel, Snowfall suddenly realized that she was no longer holding it.  Panic rising within her, she quickly searched her bed and the surrounding area for some sign of it, but found none.  Lighting a lamp, she began to search the room.  When she came to the far wall, where the dim light of the fire could not reach, she suddenly paused and gazed in wonder at what the light of her lamp revealed.  Covering the wall from floor to ceiling was a magnificent, woven tapestry depicting a cave made of pure crystal, at the center of which, upon a bed of stone, lay her mother.

At that moment, she heard the door open behind her and she turned swiftly to face the newcomer.  She was surprised and very curious to find that he was a small man, half a head shorter than she, with a great red beard reaching to his knees.  It seemed, to Snowfall, as if a dwarf had stepped out of the legends of old into her own life.  Though she did not know it, that is precisely what had happened.

“I am glad to see you alive and well,” said the little man in his gruff voice.  “You were nearly dead when we found you, my lady.  You should not have risen yet.  Pray lie down again.”

Not knowing what else to do, Snowfall obeyed and returned to her bed.  Her visitor began tending the fire and warming some liquid from the flask he carried.  The princess watched him carefully, still at a loss to explain her situation to herself.  “Please sir,” she ventured.  “I am afraid we have not had the pleasure of being introduced.”

“I do not mean to interrupt, my lady, but I believe introductions should wait until you are more fully recovered.  For the moment, you may call me doctor.  Now be still, for you are yet weak and weary.”

“Please sir,” insisted the princess.  “I had a jewel in my hand —”

“Hush, child,” said the doctor, somewhat sternly.  “Do not trouble yourself.  All shall be well.  Drink this.”  He held a steaming bowl to her lips and she slowly drank the burning liquor.  “Now sleep.  I shall return soon.”

Before he could leave, however, the door burst open and in rushed another little man, similar in appearance to the first, but slightly taller and with a smaller beard.  He froze when his eyes fell on the princess, and he sank slowly to his knees, removing his cap and gazing at her in wonder and awe.  “Your highness,” he managed, “We had long ago given up hope.”

He was unable to speak further, for the voice of the doctor cut in sharply.  “This young lady is not well, and needs her rest.  Leave her at once.”

“Do you not realize who she is?” protested the second little man.

“That is of no consequence at the moment.  Now go.”

The intruder rose to his feet, bowed deeply to Snowfall, and reluctantly went out.  The doctor shook his head and fed the fire.  “If you need assistance,” he said to his patient, “ring the bell and I will come.  Good night, my lady.”  Without another word, he also went out and Snowfall was left to herself, more bewildered than ever.  She attempted to think everything over, but the draught had made her drowsy, and before long she lay fast asleep again.

Chapter the Ninth

There is a special kind of magic that sometimes comes to the heart of a person when she wakes up in the morning.  It is the magic of a promise: that something is particularly wonderful about that new day.  It comes more commonly to the hearts of children than adults, and it almost always comes to the heart of a child on her birthday or on Christmas.  The magic may be strong or subtle; it may be safe or it may be a little dangerous; but it is magic, nonetheless.

When Snowfall awoke the next morning, this same magic was in her own heart.  She knew at once there was something about that day that was great, exciting, powerful, and dangerous.  It was a day of MAGIC.

Rising from her bed, she found, laid out for her, a beautiful white dress, identical to the one worn by her mother in the tapestry on the cave wall.  What truly took the Princess’ breath away, however, was the silver crown waiting for her on the pedestal in the center of the room.  It was the most delicately-crafted, beautiful crown she had ever seen, lighter than air but stronger than steel, and embedded in the front, surrounded by flowering filigree, shone a jewel that glimmered in the firelight now white, now red, and now black.  She pressed it lovingly to her heart and smiled at the tapestry of 

her mother.

After dressing in the white gown and placing the diadem atop her black tresses, the Princess Snowfall opened the door and stepped out into the underground stone hallway.  The doctor was waiting for her and when he saw her, he smiled for the first time since the Princess had met him.  And not just any smile: his aged face positively beamed with happiness, causing his wrinkles to crease 

more than ever.  He bowed.

“Your majesty,” he said.  “It is time for you to know the truth about this place and about yourself.  Please, come with me.”

He led the way through the long stone corridors, until at last they came to a set of enormous, intricately-carved doors.  They seemed to depict every story since the creation of the world.  The doctor pounded upon them three times and they swung open with a grinding of stone on stone.  He gestured for Snowfall to enter and, speechless, she stepped into the most beautiful she had ever laid eyes upon.

It was a throne room, but it was carved out of a cavern of pure crystal that sparkled like fallen snow in the winter sun.  It was flanked by graceful columns and, at the far end, before the king’s throne, was a bed hewn from the rock.  Behind it, seated upon the throne and flanked by five Dwarves, sat the Dwarven-King.  He rose as Snowfall entered and approached her with great solemnity.  To her surprise, he fell to his knees before her and bowed his head.

“Your majesty,” he said, his gruff voice nearly breaking.  “We have waited many, many years for this day.  Countless ages of this world have passed since one in your likeness has graced this hall with her presence. If it so please you, will you permit me the honor of escorting you to your throne?”

Snowfall bowed graciously in return.  “I would be delighted,” she answered.

The King rose and led her to the throne, where she took her seat.  Then he addressed the other Dwarves.

“The White Queen has returned!” he cried.  “All hail Snowfall, Mistress of the Mountain and Queen of the Dwarven-Realm!”

And all the Dwarves cried in return: “Hail!”

Chapter the Tenth

That night, there was a great feast in the Dwarven-hall to celebrate Snowfall's coronation.  After they had eaten, the eldest Dwarf told Snowfall the tale of the Crystal Cavern and its Sleeping Beauty.

"Many ages ago, before the race of men walked the earth, a stone man awoke in this very mountain.  He was blessed with a soul and the gift of generation: he possessed the power to carve sons for himself out of the very stone from which he was hewn.  You see, there are no women in our kind; each Dwarf carves his own sons from stone, and so our race continues.  Before long, the sons of stone became mighty and prosperous.  Of all races we were the most skilled in befriending the elements of the earth, forming them into beautiful and wondrous creations.  Our tunnels ran throughout every mountain in the land, and this was the capital of our great kingdom.  For at the heart of this mountain, in a cavern of pure crystal, were two stone beds, side by side.  One was the bed from which our first Father awoke, but on the other, beside it, lay the most precious gem in all the Dwarven-realm: a Lady, white as crystal, with lips of the deepest ruby and hair like the center of the world.  The Father found her there when he first woke, and he loved her with all his heart.  But she was cold and lifeless, and did not wake.  So the Father and his sons set a guard about the cavern, that no stranger should enter and disturb the Queen in her sleep.  It was said among them that she would not wake until the ending of the world.

"It is not easy to describe the ardor of our people's devotion to their Queen.  None of us had mother, daughter, sister, or bride of his own.  She was everything to each and every one of us, the cause of all our joy.  Our coming-of-age ceremony took the form of a solemn vow of service to the White Lady even beyond our dying breaths.  She was the source and the summit of our great civilization, and our best-kept secret.  For discourse about the White Queen with anyone save our own kind was forbidden, and none was so vile as to dare disobey where she was concerned.

"Then the men came, the sons of clay, as we call them.  When they first settled in the valleys below our mountains, we resented their approach, and tried to repel it.  Fierce crimes were committed by both sides, and great suffering ensued.  At last, however, we came to an uneasy peace, and even began to trade.  My heart still swells when I think of the empires we nearly built together.  But it was not to be, for the end of the world was fast approaching, and the Age of the White Queen was nigh.

"A young son of clay, a prince of the kingdoms of men, was hunting in the woods one day, hunting the legendary bearfox.  The chase led him into a cave, where he became lost in the dark, wandering for hours through the tunnels and caverns.  As fate would have it, he eventually came into a cave of pure crystal and laid eyes upon that which no mortal man had been meant to see: the White Queen.  He approached her with wonder and looked upon her with a gaze which no son of stone will ever understand.  Enchanted by her beauty, he took her hand into his.  And with that touch, the mountains trembled, the gemstones blazed like fire, and the White Lady awoke.

"We found them there, together, and the son of clay's life would have been forfeit but for the intercession of the Queen.  For she loved him, and chose to spend her life with him, away from the sons of stone.  Those who were willing she took with her to her new home, but these were few.  The rest remained in the mountains, continuing their labors, but their joy was gone and their work grew oppressive.  Many crumbled away like weather-beaten stone.  Some grew vicious and raided the cities and villages of the sons of clay, haunting them as monsters and phantoms.  Only a few continued to carve more sons out of the stone, and these new sons were of lesser strength and luster than their ancestors, for they were born after the waning of the jewels.  Slowly, our people dwindled away, fading from the world and from all but the legends of the sons of clay.

"The White Queen, on the other hand, lived happily with her Prince until the end of her days, and their kingdom flourished as ours withered away.  And her descendants have always ruled your kingdom ever since, until now.  Your father's bride, by seeking your life and seizing the throne for herself, has overthrown the White Queen and driven you here, where we have striven to welcome you with everything in our power, for we consider you our Queen as though you were the White Lady herself."

"I thank you for your welcome," answered Snowfall.  "But I must implore you to think of me not as the White Queen, but as her daughter.  For the image in the tapestry is not of me; my mother was the White Queen, though she is gone now.  And I beg you to lay no blame on my father, for he was bewitched by his new queen, and has now paid the price for any folly of which he may have been guilty."

"I understand and accept your requests, my Lady," replied the Dwarf.  "And as the child of our Queen you shall ever be remembered as the White Maiden, Princess of Snow.  We all of us pledge to honor and serve you all the days of our lives.  Hail, Maiden of the Snows."  And they all rose and bowed deeply before her.

Snowfall gazed upon them and smiled at each of them in turn.  Though some were older than others, none of them was young, for each had the air of the Ancient World about him.  And this air spoke to her heart about the great and mighty things this people had wrought in the time that was.

"Are you all that are left?" she inquired, sadly.

They nodded.  "There may be some still scattered throughout the world, but we seven are the only ones here in our ancient home."

"What of the few who went with the White Queen?"

"No one knows for certain what became of them.  After the White Queen died, they vanished one by one.  Some say that they still live in secret, as Guardian Spirits of the White Queen's children."

"Will there ever be any more of you?"

"No.  We have lost the will.  We could no longer carve sons if we tried."

Chapter the Eleventh

Snowfall stood on the mountainside, her cloak wrapped tightly about her as the wind whipped the snow through the air.  She had gone to the surface for a breath of fresh air, not being accustomed to long periods of life underground.  As she gazed into the whirling snow, she reflected on the recent turn of events in her life.  She wondered if she would ever be able to return to her kingdom.  She wondered whether she ought to remain with the Dwarves, since she was their rightful ruler, and they had so little left to live for.  But she was also the rightful heir to the throne of her own kingdom, having claim before her stepmother.  The throne had been passed down from her grandfather to her mother, and her father had been prince of a neighbouring kingdom.  Technically speaking, she had a nearer claim to her throne than her father, though she had no wish to rule while he lived.  But now he was dead, betrayed by his own wife, and none remained of the royal line save Snowfall herself.  She felt it was her duty to return to her kingdom and restore the line of the White Queen.  Perhaps the Dwarves would be willing to assist her.  But, then again, they had been so overjoyed to have her with them in the mountains, and she feared that they would not permit her to leave.

And then there was the Prince, the Prince that she had never met . . .

As all these thoughts whirled through her head, she put her hand over her heart and felt the warmth of her parents' gemstone radiating from her delicate silver crown that she kept inside her gown.  With that warmth, her mind cleared slowly and she saw what she had to do, saw it clearly.

She turned around, intending to return inside the mountain and inform the Dwarves of her new resolve, but she stopped dead in her tracks.  Standing between her and the cavern door was a monstrous hunting-beast, watching her through its deadly green eyes.  They stared at each other, neither one moving, the Princess hardly daring to breathe.  Keeping her right hand clasped round the gemstone, she held her other hand out, palm open.

"Hello," she said, her voice unshaken.  "Are you lost?"

The beast slowly shook its head and its four legs tensed, as if preparing to spring.

"Are you hungry?" continued the Princess, knowing that flight would be futile and hoping against hope that she may be able to talk herself out of this.

Again, the beast shook its head.

"Are you lonely?"

The beast's head froze mid-shake, as if it were pondering the question, reluctant to answer.

"I've been rather lonely myself," said Snowfall.  "I'm the only one of my kind for some miles, and I've just lost my family.  Did you lose your family, too?"

Slowly, tentatively, the beast nodded.

"I'm very sorry for you.  Is there anything I can do?"

But the beast had had enough.  It sprang through the air, and Snowfall fell to the ground and everything went black.

When she awoke, it was nearly dark, and the wind was blowing with even greater fury.  Everything was cold as she stumbled to her feet and was amazed to discover that she was unhurt.  She wrapped her cloak tightly about her and looked around for any sign of the beast.

She did not see it, but she saw something.  Not far away, on the cliff's edge, stood the figure of a man.  His back was to her, and he wore no clothing as he stared into the depths of the storm.  His ears twitched when he heard her moving, and he spoke to her, his voice coming faintly through the wind.

"I never asked for this," he said.  "I never wanted it."

Not knowing what to say, Snowfall said nothing in reply.

"That's what I tell myself, anyway," he continued.  "What I've told myself for years.  I couldn't live with myself if I were to admit that this happened to me because, deep inside, I did want it.

"I used to be a man, just like any other man, with a home and a family.  But then, times changed, and life became difficult.  The Queen was looking for huntsmen, they said, the best in the land.  I thought I would try my hand.  There was a competition, in the forest, to determine the best hunter in the land. It wasn't until the competition began that we realized we were hunting each other.

"I could have fled.  There was time.  I could have fled, and I know I should have.  But something kept me there.  I couldn't stand the thought of flight, the idea of backing down.  So I stayed; I stayed until the very end, and I was the last one.  I don't know how many other hunters I killed that day, but I know I killed the last one.  And then it was too late.  There was no way out.  I had sold myself to the Queen, and I had no choice but to serve her.  One task led to another, and each time I found myself less human than the time before.  And now, here I am.  I haven't been in this form for so long, I'd forgotten what it was like.

"I know who you are, and I know why the Queen wants your life.  On a normal day, you would have been dead by now.  But I suppose today must be different, because you're still alive.  To be honest, I don't know why I haven't killed you yet.  Can you tell me?"

He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, and she thought she could see tears on his bearded face.

"Do you remember your family?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I couldn't before today, but now I can."

"You can still go back to them.  It's not too late."

He turned away.

"It is too late.  They're dead.  I killed them.  I never knew until now.  But now, I can see their faces, and I remember.  There's nothing left for me."

"Then kill me.  If you have no reason to spare me, why don't you kill me?"

He didn't answer.

"I'll tell you why," she continued.  "Because you know you don't have to.  Deep inside, you know that you don't have to serve her."

He shook his head.

"I have no will," he said.  "I'm no longer myself.  There's nothing left but her.  I have no choice."

"Then why haven't you killed me?"

He didn't answer.  For a moment, the only sound was that of the wind howling on the mountainside.

"I'm going to," he said at length.

He turned, and when he faced her, he was a beast again.  Snowfall pulled out her gemstone and held it in front of her as he charged her.  He pounced, and she fell, and he tore out her heart and ran off into the night, leaving her lifeless body lying on the snow, in the gathering gloom, her gemstone clutched tightly in her right hand.

Chapter the Twelfth (Chapter the Last)

The snow continued to fall, but Snowfall didn't notice, because she was dead.  Before long, she was completely buried under the snow, along with all evidence of her encounter with the beast.  It was as though nothing had happened.

When the Princess did not return underground by nightfall, the Dwarves went out to search for her.  They feared that perhaps she had run away to her old kingdom, or that some calamity had befallen her.  It was three days before they found her, frozen like ice under a great mound of snow, her heart ripped out and blood staining the snow around her.  They wept.  They cursed the beast who had slain her.  One of them, mad with grief, uncovered the beginning of the beast's trail and followed it.  It was a very long time before they saw him again.

Not knowing what else to do, they bore the Princess into the crystal chamber and laid her on the bed of stone.  They cleaned her wounds as well as they could and dressed her in her coronation gown, with the jeweled crown upon her head.  Keeping constant vigil beside her, they did something that they had not done since the loss of the White Queen: they prayed.  They prayed to whomever it was who had fashioned the first Dwarf and the White Queen so many ages ago, when the world was new. They knew not to whom they prayed, nor did they know for what they prayed.  They simply opened their hearts to the Maker, seeking desperately for some manner of consolation in their heart-shattering grief.  And because of their devotion to the White Queen and her daughter Snowfall, their prayers were heard.

* * *

When he found no trace of Snowfall under the juniper tree, the Prince wandered far and wide searching for her.  There is not space here to tell of all the adventures he had in this time, of all the people he met and the places he saw.  His heart was never truly engaged in any of these things, for his thoughts were always upon the Princess and his desire to find her.  He did not know why he went to such lengths for a woman he had never met.  Call it fate, call it determination, call it improbable; something inside him drove him onwards.  Perhaps it was his promise.  He had promised Snowfall in his heart that he would find her, and he was a man who lived by his promises.

Despite his constant efforts, he met with no luck for three years.  By this time, he had grown haggard and worn from his life in the wild, and any lingering traces of boyhood had been purged from him.  He had grown in both body and soul.  He was ready, at long last, to meet the Princess.

* * *

He had promised that he would find her, but he did not know that she would be dead.

He stumbled upon a tunnel through the mountainside, and became lost in its twists and turns until he stepped out of the darkness into the radiance of a cavern carved of the purest crystal.  At the center, upon a stone bed, lay the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon.  And by her side were six little old men, kneeling with bowed heads; the Prince could not tell whether they were stone carvings or real men, so still were they.

When he saw the woman on the stone bed, his heart leapt, for he believed that he had found the one he had sought so long.  Ashamed of his grizzled and unkempt appearance in this place of otherworldly beauty, he approached the still and silent company timidly, as though he were intruding upon a funeral.

As he drew near, the Dwarves looked up at him, and untold sorrow was in each of their eyes.  But some also looked upon him with deep-seated hatred, as they had looked upon the man who had stolen the White Queen.  The Dwarven-King rose and bowed to the Prince, recognizing the noble bearing under his coarse exterior.

"Leave us, Son of Clay," he said, not unkindly.  "There is nothing for you here."

"I seek the Princess Snowfall," replied the Prince.  "And I believe I have found her."

"You have, and yet you have not.  She is dead.  Here lies her lifeless corpse."

At this proclamation of the way of all flesh, of man's inevitable fate, the Prince's heart shattered into seven pieces.  But he did not show it, except in the recesses of his eyes.

"What happened to her?"  His voice did not crack, though it very desperately wished to.

"Some beast tore out her heart and left her body on the mountainside, at the mercy of the winter.  We found her three days later and brought her in here, where we have not stirred from her side.  That was three years ago now."

"May I see her?"

The Dwarf did not answer, but slowly and reluctantly stepped aside to allow the Prince forward.  The Prince approached Snowfall, and his step was firm though his heart and mind were in agony.  He knelt beside her and took her cold hand in his.  Then, finally, his demeanour broke and he wept as he had never wept before.  He wept long and hard, as the Dwarves stared in stony silence, their eyes incapable of shedding tears.  A thousand words were in the Prince's mind, but he could formulate none of them with his tongue.  Beholding the Princess at last with his own eyes, he understood why he had loved her and dedicated himself to her through so many trials; but it was too late.

At last, the tears ceased, and he gazed upon her face in passive tranquility.  He had never known before what she looked like, who she was.  Now, at last, he had the opportunity to meet her, if only to say goodbye.  The more he looked at her, the more his face began to transform from an empty, vacuous mask into a radiant and joyful smile.  Here, before him, was the Princess Snowfall, and that was good.  She was good.  And he loved her, which meant that he was good, too.  And these little men, who had cared for her with devotion that few men could ever dream of, were good.  Snowfall was a gift to the world, and there was nothing left to be done but rejoice in that gift.  And so, rising, the Prince bent over the Princess' face and gave her a loving and joyful kiss.

Ever since that day, the world has been at a loss to explain what happened next.  Some say that true-love's kiss was the only thing that could break the spell.  Others say that Snowfall and the Prince were made for each other, so that Snowfall could not die without having loved him.  There are still others who claim that the jewel from her parents' blood preserved her life as a charm.  Perhaps we will never know exactly why this happened as they did, but I will offer my opinion: Snowfall's parents had promised her that no harm would come to her so long as she carried the gemstone, and the Prince had promised her he would find her.  It was these two promises which saved Snowfall from the awful fate that had seized her.  So, in a sense, she was saved by true-love; for love, if it be true, is a promise that is kept.

No sooner did the Prince's lips touch hers than the warmth returned to Snowfall's body and she began to breathe, slowly at first, then with increasing strength, until her eyes opened and she saw the Prince looking down at her, smiling.  She smiled back at him, her eyes sparkling.

"Good morning, Princess," said the lover.  "You have slept too long."

"You were long in the coming," she replied, and then looked at him closely.  "Have we met before?"

"Not until today, though I have longed to see you."

"Are you the Prince I was to wed?"

"I am, Princess."

"How did you find me?"

"I looked, long enough and hard enough."

A tear ran down Snowfall's fair cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

"When you vanished from your home, I made a promise to you that I would not pause until I found you.  I have only kept my promise."

"I am glad you did."

"So am I, Princess; so am I," he answered as a tear fell from his own eye.  "Do you think you are well enough to sit up?"

She nodded, and the Prince supported her as she sat up and looked about her.

"I don't remember coming in here," she said, and she looked at the Dwarves.  "Did I fall asleep outside?"

The Dwarven-King approached her and fell to his knees in reverence.

"Yes, my Lady.  We carried you in here."

"But you weren't just asleep," interjected another Dwarf, staring at her with wide-open eyes.  "You were dead."

"Dead?" queried Snowfall.

The Dwarven-King nodded.  "Aye.  A beast tore out your heart and left you in the snow."

"I remember him," she said, a cloud gathering in her eyes as her memories returned.  "Such a pitiful creature.  But if I died, then how . . ."

All eyes turned to the Prince.  The Dwarven-King rose and sank to his knees before the young man.

"Your highness," he said.  "What magic is in you we do not know, but you have our hearts' eternal gratitude for restoring our Lady to life.  I and my people will serve no one but you so long as our lives in this world continue."

Snowfall gazed at the Prince with wonder, and her hand went out to touch his.

"Did you really wake me from death itself?"

He took her hand and dropped to his knees before her.

"Princess," he said.  "For more than three years I have searched for you to tell you one simple thing: I love you, Snowfall, and I want to share my life with you.  I offer this love to you, as it is worth more than all the kingdoms of the world.  Will you take it, and love me in return, and marry me?"

This story has been filled with many marvelous things, but none so marvelous as what happened next.  The Princess Snowfall, her eyes filling with happy tears, looked upon her Prince and smiled a smile that she had not smiled since she was four years old, before her mother died.  And with her parents' gemstone in the crown upon her head, she accepted the Prince's love, and answered his question with an ecstatic "Yes!"