I Hate When They Call Me Snow White

I was camped on a log as I waited for the Huntsman to gather something or another. I didn’t even try to run because I knew he wasn’t far, as I could hear the sounds of twigs snapping under his weight. A few moments later, the Huntsman returned to our pitiful camp.

"You look more awake," he said.

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I'm actually sleep walking," I said, a little irritated.

"You're not walking," he replied.

I scowled in his direction.

"So what now?"

The Huntsman looked back at me.

"What now?" He repeated, as if confused.

"You know," I said, “What happens now?”

He stared at me for a long while before simply responding.

"Your hair looks like a birds nest."

I scowled and did my very best not to reach up smooth the tangled locks.

"Well excuse me, if I don't look quite so royal right now."

"Is that what you think a royal is?"

His voice was dark as he continued. "A frilled, pompous disgrace with a crown?"

I felt my face lurch back as I stared at him in shock. Isn't that what he thought royals were?

"My father was king and he was the best man I ever knew," I said seriously.

He stared at me for a while, searching my face before nodding and turning back to his satchel.

His demeanor had penetrated something deep within me that made me cold and hot at the same time. I wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Speaking of pomp and frill, I wouldn’t mind a bath,” I said as nonchalantly as I could.

He turned to look at me again. This time his expression was one that read are you joking? He even had the cocky-one-eyebrow raise. I so wished I could do that.

“I need to bathe,” I insisted, not sure why I was suddenly so adamant about being clean. Maybe I had gotten so used to regular baths in my short freedom. Maybe I just felt like being a pain. I wasn’t sure, but I just wanted a bath.

The Huntsman didn’t respond, but he slung his bag over his shoulder and began walking away.

I made a loud huffing sound.

“That’s incredibly obnoxious,” I said.

“What is,” he called back lazily without turning around.

“The fact that you never respond,” I said, while crossing my arms, “you just stare as if that’s a satisfactory mode of communication.”

I don’t know why I was behaving like such a petulant child. I was irritated, and I really wanted to smack this ridiculous, unorthodox Huntsman.

“I respond,” he said. He turned around so suddenly I bumped into his chest. I would have fallen to the ground, except he caught the tops of my arms.

I tried to ignore the sudden quickness of my breath.

“Yes, but you never actually answer any of my questions,” I argued.

I watched as his face broke out into a smile. Not the same broken twitch as before, but a full grin. His scar permanently pulled down one side of his face, making the grin a little lopsided, but the smile itself was so blinding you could hardly notice.

“You talk a lot for a princess,” he said, as he let go of my arms to continue walking.

“Excuse me,” I yelled, before realizing he was probably just trying to get a rise out of me. When I commented as much, I could practically feel the force of his smile radiating behind him and into my face.

The ass.

I didn’t speak after that because I wasn’t in the mood to continue making a fool of myself. I was irritated and dirty and lonely. I was trying not to think of the dwarfs because it made my heart ache. I was also trying to not think of my future demise, because that my heart thump anxiously. But mostly I tried not to think of the Huntsman at all because it made my heart do something strange, and I didn't care for it.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I ran straight into the Huntsman’s back. This time I hit the ground butt first.

“Oof” I grunted.

“You could have warned me that we were stopping,” I said indignantly, as I tried to stand back up.

“You could have paid attention to the fact that we stopped,” was the Huntsman’s aggravating response.

“Why are we…?” I walked around him to find a small pond.

It was fairly oblong in shape. You could see the banks on all sides, and also straight down to the bottom. The tiny ripples glittered in the midafternoon sun. It was still slightly cold out, but the sun had warmed the the air enough.

“You said you wanted to bathe,” the Huntsman said, turning to face me.

I sucked in my cheeks, trying not to look pleased.

If he noticed, he said nothing. Instead he handed me a bar of soap.

“I’ll be over there,” he said, gesturing to an unknown area.

“Do not come over here,” I said sternly, pointing a threatening finger at him, “Wait for me to come back to you.”

He stared at me, giving me a frank appraisal, as he did the first day we met.

“Not a problem,” He said simply.

My eyes bugged out of my head and I bit my tongue as to not say anything. The ass.

He seemed to enjoy my reaction before turning around.

“Don’t take too long,” he called over his shoulder.

“I’ll take as long as I please,” I muttered under my breath.

I counted to thirty before taking a deep breath and removing my boots. I stretched out my scrunched up toes. The boots were still too small, but I had gotten used to it.

I walked around barefoot for a few minutes as I tried to convince myself to take off my clothes. There was nothing wrong with my body. Yes, I wasn’t the most beautiful woman, but surely I wasn’t completely unpleasant.

I shook my head in an attempt to erase the thoughts from my mind. I didn’t care what he thought, and even if I did, I would force myself to not care.

I was nervous about stripping down, but I didn’t have any other clothes and if I got these wet, I’d be forced to wear them for the remainder of the day.

I looked back into the dense woods, trying to make out any shape of the Huntsman. When I found none, I took a deep breath and quickly stripped off my clothes. I grabbed the soap and carefully climbed into the water.

The water was deeper than I was expecting. I found a nice rock a few feet from the edge that allowed me to stand and keep my head above the water.

Unlike the pond I was used to, this one was positively frigid. So much for the sun. I swore quietly as I scrubbed my hair. I began to pick up the pace when my teeth started to chatter. I quickly rinsed my hair of all the suds. I was about to rub down my body when suddenly the most severe pain exploded from my leg.

I had been stabbed, or smited, or something. I screamed out in pain. I saw lights flash before my eyes. I reached down for my foot and consequently I slipped off of my perch and into the icy depths of the water.

I flailed as I tried to come back to surface. I attempted to kick off the ground, but the pain shot through my leg and I cried out. The water immediately began to fill my lungs. I closed my eyes in fear, as I struggled to move.

Then I felt a sudden tide, the water spreading for an unknown force. Suddenly a pair of arms grabbed me and hauled me towards the surface.

I broke through with a gasping breath. The Huntsman had his arm around my bare waist as he swam us both towards the shore.

He lifted us both out deftly.

I was crying hard now. The pain was becoming unbearable.

“My leg,” I whimpered, “it hurts.”

He immediately moved to examine my leg. His dripping face contorted into one of surprise and worry.

“You’ve been bitten,” he said, clearly shocked.

“By what?” I whimpered, trying to stay conscious.

My eyes were rendered useless by the pain. My whole body felt numb.

“A water serpent,” he said lowly as he examined the wound, “Their venom is deadly,” he paused before grimly adding, “and travels quickly through the bloodstream”

“But I didn’t see it,” I said, as I attempted to push back the wet hair from eyes.

The stinging turned into a flashing pain that pulsated throughout my body.

“ I’ll have to suck the poison out,” he said, his voice steely.

Before I could utter a word of objection he placed his lips on my ankle and squeezed the puncture with his hands.

I blacked out at the initial pain. It was so acute I couldn’t even muster a scream.

When I finally came around, I watched his bronze head, dark from the water, bent over my leg. His lips were firm on my skin. His hands gentle.

Finally, the majority of the pain began to subside and the Huntsman slowly pulled away. He spit a crude looking liquid out before reaching into his satchel and pulling out a flask with a purple liquid. He doused the wound, which caused a quick burning sensation that instantly cooled like a healing balm. Then he took a quick sip and cringed slightly.

He looked back at me and reached over to grab his cloak. He had obviously removed it before diving in. He quickly settled the cloak on top of me. Now that the pain was slowly fading I became intensely aware of my own nakedness and the fact that the Huntsman had his lips on my leg while I was completely bare.

I clutched the cloak to my heaving chest. I looked at the Huntsman who was observing the ground warily. I was suddenly possessed to ask him...

“What’s your name?”

I don’t know why I asked. I suppose it felt strange to refer to him as the Huntsman after such an intimate ordeal.

He didn’t answer for a while. I pointed my finger at him, or at least I think I did. My limbs felt like jelly.

“You’ve seen me naked, so it’s only fair that you reveal something of yours as well,” I said, my voice sounded slurred.

I was trying to stay conscious. I could feel my mind slipping into blackness.

He was quiet for a few moments before answering softly.

“Blaine.”

I stared into his eyes. They were cautious and the name slipped from his lips hesitantly, as if it was foreign to him as well. I wished he would put his lips back on my leg.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, “Blaine.”

And I drifted off into a numb stupor.