Disclaimer/Author's Note: This story is just a re-write, nothing like the original fairy tale. This is only my version of the story. I make no money, it's just for fun.

Once Upon A Time: Snow White
The king paced restlessly in the anti-chamber. The labor had been going for hours now. Nearly half the household were in the bed chamber, including the physician and the midwife. So what was taking so long?

There was one last ear piercing scream, then all fell silent. A moment later the sound of a baby crying came through the door. His son! His son was born at last!

He flung open the door, not caring at all about the stares he received. On the large bed, his wife was laying propped up by a mountain of pillows, a small bundle held at her breast. He knelt down beside the bed and looks at his wife. She stared straight at the child in her arms.

"You have a daughter, m'lord" was all his queen said.

A daughter! She had whelped a useless girl! His expression darkened and he stared coldly at the little babe.

"Give her to me." The queen was fearful, but she dared not disobey her husband. Gingerly she passed the child to her husband. The way he looked at the child gave her a chill, and for a moment she feared he'd throw the babe in disgust. Then he handed the child to a maid servant and rose to his feet.

"She'll be a beauty. Name her accordingly."

Then he left, leaving everyone to stare blankly after him.
It had been little more than twelve summers since the young princesses birth. Now with the beginning of fall, young Snow White had seen her sweet mother laid to rest.

It was said that the queen had never fully recovered from child birth, and it was what the people choose to believe. Snow White Knew better. Her father had always blamed her mother for not bearing a son, and had made his displeasure felt.

She oft recalled times when her father came close to hitting her, but her mother would always step in, taking the beating on herself. Only a day ago, her father had taken his hand to her frail mother. Snow White remembered the shriek that had come from her, and the sudden splash of blood that appeared on her gown. The miscarriage had been too difficult for her and she'd died in the night. As had the male child she had been carrying.

Now the princess stood before her father's chamber door. It was near midnight, but she knew not to delay when the king called. So in nightgown and bare feet she'd come to his bed chamber. Quietly, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

This night the king had yet to retire to his bed. Instead he sat sprawled in his large high backed chair before his massive fireplace. Without looking her way, he raised a hand and motioned her closer.

She obeyed, walking softly but hurriedly to her father. She stopped at the arm of the chair, looking at her father's averted face nervously.

"Come where I can see you."

Without hesitating she walked around to stand directly before him. She could feel the warmth of the fire at her back, but it did little to ward off the coldness in her father's eyes. He sat straight, his cool brown eyes assessing her icily, and she wondered if her father ever relaxed. She wisely banished the though, afraid it might register in her eyes.

He leaned forward, reaching out and taking her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. His fingers went into her hair, running through the ebony colored silk that hung down almost to her waist. His other hand cupped her cheek, the thumb gently stroking her pale-as-milk skin and running over her blood colored lips. This frightened her more than any beating could have. Her father had never shown her affection, had never shown anyone affection that she remembered. Having him do so now made goose flesh appear on her skin.

"I knew you'd become a beauty. I said so the day you were born." She didn't move or make an answer. He didn't want her to. He had more to say. "Your brother lies in the ground tonight. Only you are left to me, little beauty. I must keep you safe until you are wed. But tonight I need your comfort. Will you do that for me?"

She nodded, fighting the urge to run. She didn't know what was going on in her father's mind. Perhaps he'd changed, perhaps he really did love her and just now realized it. But that was just a desperate hope. His eyes were still cold as they looked at her, and his arms were stiff as he picked her up.

"No one shall ruin you, little beauty. But I've need of your warmth until I can find another elsewhere. You'll understand in time." He carried her to the massive bed and laid her into the center of it. After drawing the curtains he joined her there.

She learned all to quickly what her father meant by "comfort" and after he'd finished with her she dared not cry. He didn't even attempt to console her, simply turned over and fell asleep. She crawled out of the bed and escaped to her own safe little room.