Pumped Up Kicks (Snow White)

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The camps had been overrun with men recently, what with all the legions and regiments and rag tag groups coming together to regroup. No one really knew for sure why everyone was being pulled back and together but the rumour was that it had something to do with the death of one of the generals. No one knew which one however and most of them still believed it not to be true, merely just speculation from a superstitious bunch. As it was, with so many mouths to feed the kitchens were always busy.

“Hey, you’ve got another delivery Charlie,” said one of the soldiers before he looked up from his paper work, “Oh…you must be new, right, well, I’ve not got any time to show you around so get one of the others to give you the grand tour later. The Huntsmans on his way.”

With a tick of his sheet he turned on his heel and out of the old café. The other soldiers that had been waiting in line for the food started whispering amongst themselves, “What d’ya think he’s got?”

“Rabbit, there’s always rabbit,” said one of the others excitedly.

“I hope he’s got some venison,” said another.

“So long as it’s some decent meat I don’t care what he’s got,” said the first man, “anything is better than this sludge…uh…begging your pardon ma’am, it does…does look nice.”

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How long had this war been going on by now? Weeks? Months? The days all ran together and Snow had lost count. Every day was the same, endless hours spent in the kitchens slaving to make food for the never ending stream of soldiers who never seemed to get enough food to satisfy them. Even in those times when relief came and she could get a few moments to herself she rarely rested and it was starting to show. She was still very beautiful, but her features had grown sharper, harder, as if defying the weariness that always threatened. In a way it created its own beauty, different from the softness that had earned her the title of Fairest of Them All, but no less striking. It was just harder to see beneath all the grease and food that always marred her skin and clothes.

“Nice?” she scoffed at the man as she scooped a large portion of the stew onto his plate. Brushing a lock of raven hair back that had escaped from the high bun she had twisted it up into, she let out a heavy sigh. “I am as sick of looking at it as you are of eating it, but it’ll have to do.” Stews and soups were the most common meals made as everything just went farther that way. There wasn’t enough meat on a daily basis to give everyone a big juicy steak, but to chop it up and add it to the vegetables made it go much farther. Too bad the smell of it was starting to make her feel sick. If this war ever ended Snow swore she would never eat a bowl of stew again in her life.

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The soldiers were a little taken aback by the tone of the woman never mind her words. She may not have been as fair as she once was but she was still enough to turn their heads. The soldier that had thought he had put his foot in it immediately went on the charm offensive and said, "we'll miss the huntsman will bring some decent meat, you can be sure of that. He always brings us something good, when he can."

"When he ain't picking off stray Wayron scum," said another not hiding his excitement about this.

"They say he took on twenty at one time though, came out of it without even a scratch," said the first in hushed tones, and only last week he brought some bear, a bear miss! Can you believe it?!"

"I don't care who he fights or what he kills so long as he brings that tasty little blonde thing with him," said the third soldier as the others quickly nodded in agreement.

"You've never seen a prettier girl miss, except yourself of course," said the first soldier once again realising all too late he had put his foot in it again.

Before he could dig a further hole for himself however one of them pointed to the doors and said, "there he is!"

The crowds parted to let the man through and whilst the noise level certainly decreased no one made any move to talk to the man. Most either stared in awe or quickly looked somewhere else or found something else to do. So many stories had circulated about him that no one quite knew which ones were fabricated and which ones were true. As it was they had just collectively decided to treat them all as true. There was however another reason for moving aside as the man appeared to be carrying a large stag over his shoulders which, when he arrived where Snow and the others were, he carefully laid on the table.

"Something for your pot Charlie, I'm looking for some herbs in return for our own cooking," said Edward as he made sure that the stag wasn't getting in the way of anything, "Sage, Basil and...there was another one she said, give me a second, ill remember-"

He looked up and saw that Charlie had been replaced.

Snow. It was Snow. He was sure of it, he was however not a hundred percent sure as this was not the same woman he had left in her classroom a few months ago and definitely not the same woman had walked out on him and their children.

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Snow usually stayed in the kitchens, she didn’t often venture out among the masses, so while she had heard vague rumours among the other cooks she hadn’t been exposed to talk like this in quite some time. Despite her weariness she found herself listening with interest as the men spoke of this Hunstman. The stories they told, of his prowess at fighting and his beautiful blonde mate, sounded more like exaggerations and legends than truth, but in a land such is this one could not be too quick to discount the incredible.

The unintentional slight stung, not that Snow truly believed that there were no maidens younger and more beautiful than her now, but any reminder that she was no longer the fairest of all cut her to the quick all the same. It was a title she held in a more innocent time, one she often longed to return to even as she berated herself for such longing.

“Beauty can be just as much a curse as any other,” she said quietly, only a hint of irritation in her eyes. It was no matter, though, as all attention was soon turned toward the door as the fabled Hunstman strode into the room. Of course hearing the name Snow could not help but wonder; could it be The Huntsman, her Huntsman, the one who spared her life so long ago? She had heard nothing of him since their confrontation in the forest and knew not what had become of him. Part of her was glad as he had been spying on her for her Stepmother, while another felt regret that her discovery of him might have led the evil Queen to take her anger out upon him or his family.

She caught her breath as the crowds parted, her heart beating a quick staccato, but it was not her Huntsman who approached but her husband. For a moment her heart stopped.

As he spoke she could only stare at him, her eyes taking in all the changes the battle had wrought upon him. She had heard nothing of him since the war had begun and had begun to fear the worst. Surely someone would tell her if he had been killed or captured, but as time wore on with no word she had lost all hope. “Edward...” she breathed but could do no more.

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There was no doubt about it, it was definitely her. It seemed that she recognised him as well, he was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He liked to think that in recent months he had changed from the wreck he was before, then again, had he changed into something good? Despite the change in her appearance he could still see her beauty and as usual it still took his breathe away, every time he saw her.

The other soldiers realising the tension between the two took a few steps back and started up their own conversation whilst trying to keep an eye and an ear on the two reuniting.

What was he supposed to say to her? What could he say to her? It was clear from their previous conversation where things stood, she would not return home and so he would leave without her. But he had not been able too. The portals had been closed and he could do no such thing, as much as he wanted too, to escape this place, to leave her be. When the war started he made sure he was as far away from her as possible, in the woods, thinking she would be on the island. But of course she would not be, fate would be unkind to him and now they were thrust together.

What was he supposed to say?

“You look…well,” he said eventually looking away from her, trying to break the awkwardness, “I thought…I thought you would be on the island. I did not expect you would be…here.”

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A mix of emotions warred within Snow’s heart. Perhaps they were no longer close, perhaps they were only married on paper now, but he was the father of her children and once she had loved him so she certainly felt relief to see him alive. He looked so different now, nothing like the beautiful prince who had first captured her heart with his song, but he hadn’t looked that way in a long time, had he? He had certainly looked rougher the last time they had talked, but while he was scruffy and unkempt now he seemed stronger, more centered. She wanted to reach out to him, even started to raise her hand, but then he spoke and her motion stilled.

He thought she would be on the island. he thought she would have run and hid while he and Henry and everyone else fought.

“There is nothing to do there but listen and wait,” she replied, her expression going cold. “I may not be able to fight but I wanted to do something. This may not be much but every little bit helps. It is better than sitting useless on some island.”

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How different she was from that meek young girl he had first met, how different from the princess she became whilst married to him and even now, how different from the stranger he had met a few months ago. It seemed there were many sides to Snow White and he would never be sure which one he was going to meet next. He would not have expected her to have come so close to the fighting but then she had changed so much, why should he not have expected it. She was stronger now, through her independence, through being away from him she was stronger now. Was that better?

“I…I see…good….very good,” he said eventually.

He did not want to dwell on it. This was wartime and he had things that he needed to do.

“That should do you for a good while,” he said pointing to the deer, “I’ve got some rabbits for you as well, she’s just bringing them. If you’ve got any I’ll take a tub of basil, sage and…mint, it was mint she wanted. We got a hog the other day and she’s been dying to making something out of it.”

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And just like that the moment passed. Snow once again drew back behind an exterior as cold as her namesake and Edward changed the subject. The reunion was over, and all that was left for them to speak about was business.

Even her hardened heart felt a little sadness at that.

Straightening her back, she nodded at the deer and listened to his explanation and request. It sounded simple enough, but something about how he spoke bothered her. No, not exactly accurate; it was how he spoke of “her” that got under her skin. She remembered how the other soldiers had spoken of the hunstman’s pretty companion, and now to hear her husband speak of what almost sounded like a domestic life with this other woman...

Snow knew she had no right to be jealous; after all, she had been the one to leave him. Still, the idea of someone else hunting with him, cooking for him... had their life been like that maybe things would have been different.

Shaking off that thought, she nodded curtly at him. “I will see what we have that we could possibly spare, but I have a lot of mouths to feed who don’t have the luxury of a whole hog to themselves so the flavouring is very important.”

She didn’t wait for a reaction, just turned on her heal and disappeared into the kitchen.