the beholder[snow/huntsman; unnamed oc - pg; trigger warning for pregnancy complications] Part 2
*
"I cannot get it to sit as yours does, mother," Snow's daughter says, miserably. It as if the entire world has ended, because she cannot get her hair to lay flat.
"It's lovely," Snow says, and then adds, "you should look like yourself."
"I want to cut it all off." Snow's daughter's eyes brim with angry tears and the face she makes at the bent metal she uses as a mirror is heartbreaking.
"If you'd like," Snow says, amiably. "Or we could braid it."
Snow's daughter throws herself on the bed and pulls at her hair, without a response.
*
The next day Snow has the mirror removed from her daughter's room.
(Snow tries not to look at her own reflection as the piece of warped metal sinks into the fire at the armorer's hand. She catches a glimpse anyway and sees the fire curling around her form. She thinks of Ravenna and then turns away from it.)
*
When that doesn't work, Snow sends her daughter out to the villages to give charity.
*
When that doesn't work, Snow's Huntsman takes their daughter to the farthest reaches to hunt, to breathe and to live.
*
When that works, Snow is grateful and jealous.
*
She stops wishing for a son and embraces the daughter they have as she is. Snow stops dreaming of Ravenna and of her mother and lets their memories rest.
*
Her Huntsman calls her beautiful, even as her hair begins to gray.
Snow says, "That troll was beautiful. The one that almost killed you the first day we met."
Her Huntsman laughs, until he realizes she's not joking. "It was a troll."
"She had kind eyes and she was in pain." Snow shifts past him, up the pathway, her skirt flitting against her legs in the wind.
"She? That thing was a she?"
"I'm sure her mother loved her just the same," Snow says, over her shoulder. She sighs in relief at the feel of truth in that.
no subject
*
"I cannot get it to sit as yours does, mother," Snow's daughter says, miserably. It as if the entire world has ended, because she cannot get her hair to lay flat.
"It's lovely," Snow says, and then adds, "you should look like yourself."
"I want to cut it all off." Snow's daughter's eyes brim with angry tears and the face she makes at the bent metal she uses as a mirror is heartbreaking.
"If you'd like," Snow says, amiably. "Or we could braid it."
Snow's daughter throws herself on the bed and pulls at her hair, without a response.
*
The next day Snow has the mirror removed from her daughter's room.
(Snow tries not to look at her own reflection as the piece of warped metal sinks into the fire at the armorer's hand. She catches a glimpse anyway and sees the fire curling around her form. She thinks of Ravenna and then turns away from it.)
*
When that doesn't work, Snow sends her daughter out to the villages to give charity.
*
When that doesn't work, Snow's Huntsman takes their daughter to the farthest reaches to hunt, to breathe and to live.
*
When that works, Snow is grateful and jealous.
*
She stops wishing for a son and embraces the daughter they have as she is. Snow stops dreaming of Ravenna and of her mother and lets their memories rest.
*
Her Huntsman calls her beautiful, even as her hair begins to gray.
Snow says, "That troll was beautiful. The one that almost killed you the first day we met."
Her Huntsman laughs, until he realizes she's not joking. "It was a troll."
"She had kind eyes and she was in pain." Snow shifts past him, up the pathway, her skirt flitting against her legs in the wind.
"She? That thing was a she?"
"I'm sure her mother loved her just the same," Snow says, over her shoulder. She sighs in relief at the feel of truth in that.