I Hate When They Call Me Snow White

We finally reached the river. It wasn’t that far from the house, but far enough that I could be ensured some privacy.

Doc turned and handed me a clump of hard looking soap, a towel, a set of worn-in trousers and a plain white shirt.

“I know it’s not usual for a young lady to don such garments, but it is all we have and unfortunately your dress is...err...a bit worse for wear. If you’d like, perhaps we can venture to a town nearby and see if we can find a milliner or…”

“They’re wonderful. Please do not trouble yourself,” I said, effectively cutting off his rambling.

He smiled, “Take all the time you need, dear,” he said kindly.

I felt a rush of gratitude for the dwarf. I grabbed his hand and held it tight.

“Thank you so much for all you’ve done,” I said sincerely.

His eyes turned soft and he patted my hand that was still latched onto his.

“There’s nothing to thank me for. We were all in a situation like yours before,” he said softly, as if remembering a time long ago.

“A situation like mine?” I said, quickly letting go of his hand.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes a bit confused by my sudden change, “We all had to run away from someone who tried to send us to a fate we didn’t deserve, and I’m sure no matter how it seemed, your father was just trying to do what he believed to be the best thing for you,” he continued.

Oh, yes. I had already forgotten all about my “situation.” Although he didn’t know my true state, his word still were comforting.

“Thank you,” I said again, meaning it, “I do hope you’re right.”

Doc smiled again and walked away.

“I shall send one of the men to fetch you when dinner is ready,” he called over his shoulder.

Finally alone, I turned back to the river. Suddenly feeling unaccustomed to being alone, I tensed and listened to the sounds of the forest. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, I set my towel and clothes out on a branch and walked to the edge of the river.

I took a deep breathe and began to loosen my dress. I had lost the cloak it seemed, but it didn’t matter. I soon got the horribly dirty garment off and was down to my underclothes. I didn’t feel much apprehension about getting completely nude since nobody was around. Besides it wasn’t as if I had much to look at.

Years of malnutrition had left me without much of a womanly figure. I was sure from the back I resembled a prepubescent boy, but I wasn’t going to be bothered with that now.

I gripped the soap and took a deep breath before jumping into the water. I hit the water with a loud splash and thankfully, it was a comfortable temperature .

I began to lather the soap in my hands. It took some effort but eventually I worked it into a nice enough consistency. I scrubbed the bar in my hair. I clawed through the horribly knotted mess, removing all of the debris that had accumulated through the last few days. As I moved down the rest of my body I reflected on how the palace felt like such a long time ago.

I remembered one of my last real moments with my father after my mother had passed, and before he had remarried. He was preparing to go to on a ride to investigate a possible troll problem. My father, King Reginald, had always been a big and broad man, but in the years since my mother died he had lost a significant amount of weight. His once lively and colorful face had been pale and dazed.

“But papa, must you leave?” A thirteen-year-old Arabella begged.

“Yes, darling. I must investigate the rumors. Too many people seem to be disappearing, and I must act upon it,” his voice only this tender when he spoke to his daughter.

“I shall miss you terribly,” she declared.

He laughed softly, for a moment he looked like his old self again. He walked over and sat next to his only source of happiness.

“It is the duty of a king to protect his people,” he said, while softly stroking his daughters hair, dark ebony as his own.

Arabella leaned into the hard comfort of her fathers chest.

“But who shall protect me?” she said, on the verge of tears.

At this, Reginald tilted his daughters head back and smiled into her troubled face that was so like his own.

Arabella possessed her father’s long, sharp nose and olive skin. She also had his long black eyelashes and thick shapely eyebrows. But unlike his own blue eyes, Arabella had her mother’s eyes. A brown so bright, they almost looked gold at times.

“My dearest girl, do you know why I have no fear in leaving you?” he said softly.

Arabella only shook her head. Tears streamed down her young face.

“Because I know that no matter where I am, you will be strong enough to face any hardship you may come your way. You are my daughter. You have the heart of a warrior,” he said warmly.

“Like you, papa?” The little girl brightened at the idea.

Reginald smiled and his eyes became misty.

“Yes, dearest Arabella, so you shall never be alone. Whenever fear strikes you to the core and you think you cannot take another step, remember that I am always with you, in your heart, and that I believe you are brave enough,” he said wrapping her in his arms.

Young Arabella wrapped her arms tight around her father.

“I shall always remember, papa, always,” she whispered.

I felt my eyes water as I played back the memory. Shortly after my father returned he told me of his plans to remarry after my fourteenth birthday to another young woman.

My father had married Annis and for a year I watched him grow weaker and more estranged. His hair turned gray and his eyes filmy. I watched my father deteriorate while Annis remained as beautiful as ever.

The first day I met Annis, I thought she was an angel. She certainly looked the part, with her golden blonde hair and eyes light as crystals. She smiled as I curtsied and held my hand.

“How lovely you are, my young girl,” she said appraising me.

I had felt such joy at her praise and sought to please her at every opportunity. I took extra care with my appearance for the first year, but as my father grew weaker, Annis grew hateful.

She began to comment on my figure, how I was decidedly plump and round.

“You’ll never attract any princes if you continue to eat and romp around as you do,” she spat at me one day after I had returned from playing the fields.

In an attempt to appease her, I stopped going outside and eating less. I felt awful, my body aching to be touched by the sun, but I denied myself the pleasure. I grew pale and yellow. I wanted Annis’ love too badly, especially as my father had become more distant.

One day my father rode out and never returned. I waited by the window everyday, hoping to see his tall figure riding back to me. Each day Annis grew colder, more greedy, and more cruel. I felt alone. I remember the day she threw me into the tower. It was all because of a green dress.

My mother, Queen Isabelle, was a wonderful woman. Known around the kingdom as a sweet and gentle creature. She handled every and all situations with grace and charm. Her beauty was legendary. She had the brightest copper hair that shined like new coins in the sun. Her features, unlike my own, were small and dainty. The only thing I had of my mother were her eyes. We had the same brown eyes that my father often praised.

After my mother died, my father had all of her clothes put away into trunks in the storage. He planned to give them to me should I ever grow into them or just want them. I would spend hours going through the chests and looking at my mothers old gowns. There was one I was particularly fond of. It was long and soft. It was the same color of the leaves in spring. A soft but bright green dress. I wasn’t one much for frill and this dress had always been my favorite. I had been trying it on since before my mother had passed, waiting until the dress would fit me. She loved watching me try on her dresses. I think she was just happy that I was showing interest in something other than frogs and tree climbing.

For as perfect of a princess my mother was, she never once pressured me to be anything other than myself. That is what that dress symbolized for me. My mothers confidence and acceptance of my unusual behavior.

One day I was seated at the breakfast table after a particularly grueling session of piano lessons. A particular skill that Annis had insisted I gain. When I watched in shock as Annis walked into the breakfast hall wearing none other than the green dress.

I had never raised my voice to Annis. I had only ever wanted to please her, but something snapped inside of me. I rose to my feet quickly.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a shaking voice.

“Excuse me,” she questioned with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“That’s my mothers dress,” I said with disbelief.

“I don’t see what use she would be getting out of it,” Annis snarled.

“It was to be mine. She said I could have it when I grew into it,” I cried with pain.

“Fit into it?” she scoffed, “Child, you could not fit into this gown if you stopped eating for a week and wore the strongest corset in the land. Besides your color is too sallow and pale for a gown of this color,” she cruelly finished.

I had spent the entirety of my existence since my mother had died trying to emulate my mothers gentleness and patience. Fighting my own nature to please somebody who hated me.

So with shaking shoulders and a racing heart I declared.

“That is my mothers dress. That is my dress. Take it off...now,” I finished strongly.

Annis’ eyes narrowed into snake slits.

“Sit down and shut up, you ungrateful child,” she growled, “before I make you.”

“TAKE IT OFF!”

I had never screamed quite so loud before. I ran to remove it myself. I was enraged.

I don’t know what happened, but I was flung back into the opposite wall and beat. I don’t remember what happened much after that on account that I blacked out. When I woke I was stripped down to nothing but a ragged garment that came down to the middle of my calves and I was chained by my ankles to the wall.

My eyes finally focused on Annis’ smug smile.

“Where am I?” I croaked.

“You misbehaved and now you are being punished,” Anni said with an unnerving amount of cheer in her voice.

“My father…” I began before she cut me off.

“Your father is not here,” she said harshly, “and he is never coming back.”

She no longer wore my mother’s gown, but held it in her hands. It had a few blood stains on it.

“Whose blood is that?” I asked, with horror.

“Yours,” she smiled, “and now you will face the repercussions of your actions,” as she spoke these words a large flame rose out of her palm and caught on the dress.

“No!”

I cried out as I lurched forward only to be stopped by the chains. I cried softly as I watched the dress turn to ash in front of me.

She walked closer to me menacingly.

“Let’s get one thing clear, little princess, you are not the ruler here, I rule all, and your fate is in my hands, do not forget that,” she spat in my face.

My indignation rose and my face grew warm. I couldn’t help but defend myself with narrow eyes.

I moved an inch closer to her face so she could feel my breath on her face. I wasn't crying anymore.

“You’re wrong,” I said bravely.

She looked taken aback.

“What?” she shrieked.

“My fate is in my own hands. It is my own,” I said strongly.

I didn’t see her hand lash out, but I felt something as I was knocked to the ground with my face throbbing.

“You are nothing,” she spat at me before walking away.

“I’m a warrior,” I whispered to myself, “and I am not alone.”

I finally washed off all the suds on my body and dried off.

I slipped on the garments Doc had left me to find that length-wise worked, but unfortunately I was not quite full enough to fit into the garment comfortably. The shoes were ridiculously small and required me to scrunch my toes in the front, but they would have to do. The trousers also continued to slip off. I’d have to find a rope to tie them with, but for now they were warm, dry, and perfect.

I heard rustling in the woods. Bashful and Sneezy came through with their hands over each others eyes.

“Armie?” Bashful called out.

“I’m fully clothed, gentlemen,” I said while laughing.

“Dinner is...achoo…dinner is ACH...” Sneezy held his breath in order to hold the sneeze in.

Unfortunately it didn’t work as he planned.

“CHOOOOOOOO,” he sneezed so violently he flew to the floor.

I walked over and helped him up, while holding on to my pants.

“Ready?” I offered.

“Yes,” he said tiredly.

“Doc said that you might need this,” Bashful said, while thrusting a string of rope in my hands.

I laughed as I quickly looped the rope through and hooked arms with both dwarves. Sneezy leaned on my arm as if weakened and Bashful blushed and giggled.

“Off we go,” I said cheerfully.

We walked back to the small cottage, beckoned by the smells of a warm meal. I felt more calm than I had in a long time. No longer was I on my own.