the power of love | snow white and the huntsman

a/n: If, for whatever reason, you have found your way here, I'm glad you did. But, before you get into reading, you better get cozy. This oneshot is about twelve thousand words long, so you better grab yourself a fluffy blanket, some tea, coffee or whatnot and lean back. Enjoy ;)

There she sat, the queen, the savior of her kingdom, Snow White.

Underneath that very apple tree where she and her old friend Prince William had used to play back when they children.

When everything had been alright.

But it was again, now.

Next to her, however, wasn't William.

It was the Huntsman.

Or Eric, as she had come to call him.

Her most loyal soldier and best friend.

He'd been the first one to follow her into battle.

Hell, he'd helped her when no one even knew she was still alive.

Over the course of time, they had become the best of friends, the closest of allies.

They had fought numerous battles and not only on the battlefield.

She had helped him overcome the alcohol.

Once or twice, he had made the move to leave, but, either he hadn't, or he'd returned after a few weeks.

They just couldn't without one another anymore.

Yet, there was still one thing unspoken between the two.

Snow White sat with her back against the huge trunk of the tree, with the back of her head touching it's rough surface.

Her dress rested on the cool, soft, dreamingly green grass surrounding the tree.

Her green eyes were closed and her breathing was deep, relaxed.

And it was true; she was relaxed, completely at ease.

The huge, bulky man next to her, however, he wasn't.

He could never be.

He hadn't even had a decent night's sleep in forever.

He sat next to her, his hands softly grazing the grass beneath, and his back against the trunk, as was his head.

But his eyes weren't closed.

They were opened, if only slightly.

He watched Snow White's every move and was on high alert of his surroundings.

He always was.

He had been trained to be.

But when he looked at her, he did feel at ease, at least a little bit.

On the other hand, he felt that urge to protect her.

If anything ever happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He couldn't handle losing a loved one, not again.

Not because of his own actions, again.

He couldn't even imagine how deep he would fall this time.

"You know", she began, her soft voice ending the comfortable silence they had sat in for the past few minutes, "my royal household gets more and more insistent of that I marry a man."