Snow White & the Huntsman

Some hurt cannot be revoked, some wounds cannot heal. When Snow White decides to marry William, it leaves Eric with a rage he cannot supress. More than anything, he wants to leave. When a new threat endangers the castle, he must choose between bitterness and duty. Little does he expect to find someone with wounds that run even deeper than his own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own storyline.

This is likely to be a dark story so if you don't like it don't read. It is not a Snow White/Huntsman story, it is a story about hurt, betrayal and learning that there is always someone who has hurts more than you do. It is also a story of trust, comfort and finding yourself with someone else. Cas I'm a sucker for a happy ending!

When it comes down to it, it is a story of choosing between your own pain and the duty to your Queen.

Chapter One: Truth hurts

The diamond caught the sunlight and threw the rays scattered in a perfect kaleidoscope of colours around the throne room. The halo of colours created a barrier between the golden throne and the cold stone below it. A barrier between royalty and the commoner. One that was irrevocably impossible to cross, apparently. As the princess – queen – threw her hand in a wild gesture, that was no doubt aimed at backing up every empty word she spoke, every shade flew across the stone in a vibrant streak.

He had not taken his eyes off the sparkling stone since he had entered the throne room. Not even when he had heard her words tremble with tears, and slowly those words became one big blur. It was an unmistakable symbol, even to his eyes. She needn't be spinning excuses and tales for him to hear. He saw all he needed to, right upon her finger. A mark of possession, of love, of duty. That ring meant many a notion. To him it simply meant that she had chosen.

He let out a bitter laugh that stemmed her trail of justifications briefly, as realisation hit him. There never was a choice to be made. He was a fool to think himself worthy of a queen. For here he kneeled at her feet, where he belonged. Clenching his fists tightly, he snapped his jaw shut tighter against the bitter words he wanted to throw at her. Instead he swallowed his resignation along with any feeling he ever felt for her. Looking around the intricate room, it ridiculed the simpleness of his attire, the ignorance of his assumptions.

'Is that all?' he asked, just loud enough for her to hear. The words echoed slightly around the empty room, bouncing back to taunt him. Is that all? All was always nothing, you fool. All was you feeling something that would never be returned. He refused to look at those traitorous eyes, which he knew would be glittering with tears that would make her eyes swim like an emerald ocean. Eyes that only opened because of him.

Shaking himself inwardly he refused to think of that kiss. That lying touch that was like a poison web across his mind. He had served his purpose and was now being thrown out like a common beggar. Well that suited him fine. He was fine before her and he would be fine without her. Without waiting for a reply, he stood, turned swiftly and began to stride from the room. He could not bear to kneel at her feet as she sat in that damn throne, looking down on him. Not when just recently he had looked down on her, unconscious upon her death bed and pulled her to safety. His heart beat so rapidly in his chest he wondered if would break the bone cage that in cased it.

The flicker of the diamond bounced across the walls as he walked, indicating movement from the queen. A hand grasped his leather-cased arm and attempted to drag him around once more. But he had enough of her talking. Her voice, once like music to his ears, was now a broken tune. Pulling roughly away from her he spun so rapidly that she stumbled backwards.

'Yes, Queen?' he seethed, knowing that the use of her title would hurt her. Petty, but what else did he have anymore. There was no chance that she could imagine the hurt she had bestowed upon him. 'Is there another service I can provide to you?'

He watched her visibly flinch at his question. Finally raising his eyes to her flawless face, he saw her features set in a grimace. Her eyes were down set, and for this he was grateful. Her chest heaved with an emotion he could not place. Fear? Guilt? He was disgusted at himself; for as much pain as she had caused him, he could not bear to see her hurt. No wonder she had not chosen him. No wonder he was not even a contender; he was weak. Her crimson lips parted as a tear slipped between them and he tore his gaze away from her.

'I know it is selfish of me,' she finally whispered, her fingers twisting that damnable ring. 'I really wish you would stay here, in the castle.'

He almost reeled at her words, how she dare even suggest it. Stay here and watch her flaunt herself with her new husband, swollen with child as she watches him with pitiful eyes. He would rather have Ravenna's hand around his throat, than stay here where he could see her. He wanted to tell her exactly where she could take her wish, but eyeing her crown upon her raven hair, he merely clenched his fists tighter.

'Impossible, I'm afraid,' he ground out, each word like razor blades to his throat. 'I have delivered you to the castle, as requested. There is nothing more here for me.'

He watched her bottom lip tremble as the emphasis caught her delicate ears and he was reminded forcefully of how innocent she really was. In the few weeks she had been queen, she had no request denied of her. Now he was here, throwing her wishes back in her face. Good, he thought. Maybe she could know some scrap of how he was feeling.

'I don't know how to do this without you,' she whispered, words watery from tears. Fury like he had not felt in a long time boiled within him as these words left her mouth. She really was selfish to say such words when she knew how he felt of her. He turned roughly away from her again and heard a broken sob leave her throat. It almost broke him.

'Please, Eric,' she pleaded, 'I care so deeply for you-'

Throwing his ax so forcefully across the room that it splintered the stone as it hit the ground; he turned to her and finally caught a glance of her watery gaze.

'You care?' he hissed dangerously, 'Did you care when you said yes to him? Did you care when you requested my presence in here with that on your finger?' His voice trembled dangerously and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair as she continued to cry openly.

'I wanted you to be the first to know,' she stated weakly, looking like a fragile little girl. The crown had slipped slightly and suddenly looked too heavy for her head. Sighing deeply, the anger drained out of him.

'And now I know. Now please,' he asked, his voice broken, 'Allow me leave so I do not have to suffer seeing you in somebody's else's arms.'

The queen's quiet sobs hitched as she drew in a haggard breath, tears running a stream down her pale cheeks. She searched his face for what felt like forever before she dropped her head to gaze at her elegantly slipped feet. She nodded once, so small of a movement he nearly missed it. But it was enough. Turning from her for what he felt would be the last time; he strode from the room, recovering his axe on the way out.

He could hear her sobs against the thud of his boots, the entire length of the hall.

So that's the first chapter! More to commmme.