Categories > Comics > Fables
Once upon a time there was a little girl named Snow White. She loved her sister dearly and liked her father and stepmother well enough, as far as parents she saw only occasionally went. And she would daydream of a day far off in the future, where her prince would come for her on a white horse, they'd be married and live happily ever after, as she'd always been told would happen.
But a child doesn't stay a child, and change is inevitable. As she grew, betrayal after betrayal from everyone she'd ever opened herself to trust or even love beat at her, blow after blow. It ached at her, moreso than any poision through her veins or bruise or beating.
Betrayals coming this quickly, this inevitably, caused some part of her to fear that she may be cursed, that betrayal would come at any turn if she left herself open to it.
There was little choice that she saw. She built a shield of ice around her heart, thick and strong. She stood for herself, refusing to rely on any other for something she could possibly do herself.
The shields of ice grew with each passing day, thicker and stronger, warding off any possible attack. Rose still held a place, just outside the walls, closer than she'd let any other. Sisters, after all.
Until the mountain pass, none had managed even the smallest chip in her shields. Her heart was a lonely place, but secure.
When the wolf came into view, dripping blood and menace, instinctive fear caused her to snatch up the fallen blade and stand firm, to defend what little she had as best she could. Then the great wolf spoke, and the danger seemed somehow lessened. No logic, no reason, and the fear never wavered, but she felt somehow seperate from it.
He never smashed through her shields, nor did he chip away bit by bit at them. He simply bypassed them entirely, entering her heart almost unnoticed. Implicit trust, rooted deeply. Anything further was still contained by the icy shields that hadn't been weakened in the slightest. But she trusted him, enough to lower her sword and meet his terms.
Centuries later, it was that alone that she deemed reason enough to fight for him to hold the position of Sheriff. It was reason enough to pay from her own pocket the great price for the knife needed to let him walk in human form. And it was reason enough to go to him, grudgingly accepting one guard, to ask him to come with her.
The great wolf smiled quietly, more aware than she on some level of the connection they held. She asked and he was hers, he would join her pack and accept her terms.
Centuries passed. The shields held firm and continued to grow. No further intruders made it in.
Human customs were not familiar to the wolf, and his fumbling efforts to make an attempt at courting her had no outward effect. Behind the shields, something stirred gently, unnoticed.
One day, after some years had passed and various horrid incidents had happened to them both, they found themselves out in the forest with no memory of getting there, or the days that followed their arrival.
It occured to her to ask Bigby just why he felt so deeply for her.
He answered, and the shields softened slightly, uncomfortably.
Danger was present, and priorities were elsewhere, so she barely noticed the slight shift. They were running for their lives, and when Bigby told her to hide, she hid.
The stiuation as a whole had her on a sharp edge, and she couldn't help a flinch and a sharp twinge of nausea when Bigby was shot. She knew he'd faced worse, and figured he might be able to play dead and catch Goldilocks unaware. Another flinch came with each shot. Then Goldilocks commented on targeting her next, and Bigby spoke up to distract, to defend. It finally sank in. He loved her, loved her as deeply as he said. It was as if a laser had bored a hole through her shields, focused only at him.
She loved him.
Goldilocks was still out there, building a fire and actually posing a threat to him.
No. Not again, not now.
She'd kill the golden-haired bitch.
She barely gave it a thought, hardly noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. The hatchet hit its target with a hard crunch, then smoothly cut into the grey matter beneath.
It was less effective than she'd hoped, and now she acted with hardly a thought, simply taking whatever she had on hand to render the threat void.
Cliff, truck, river.
The threat was gone for the moment, and she was barely able to keep upright. Bigby was alive. Exhausted, bloody, but alive. It had all been worth it, she could let him know what she'd realized. But they both needed a chance to rest and recover first, certainly the priority was there.
After they were both sufficiently rested, things were taken care of and they were on a plane back to New York. She still hadn't told him, and the flight passed largely in silence. It struck her then that she honestly wasn't sure how to go about acting on this now. She needed time to adjust, to deal with loving again.
At the airport, she finally told him. That she wanted a relationship, but to take it slowly, give her time. He smiled and agreed, and they both returned to Fabletown in a better mood than they really should have.
Her shields hadn't begun to thaw yet, but she didn't fear the possibility anymore.
But a child doesn't stay a child, and change is inevitable. As she grew, betrayal after betrayal from everyone she'd ever opened herself to trust or even love beat at her, blow after blow. It ached at her, moreso than any poision through her veins or bruise or beating.
Betrayals coming this quickly, this inevitably, caused some part of her to fear that she may be cursed, that betrayal would come at any turn if she left herself open to it.
There was little choice that she saw. She built a shield of ice around her heart, thick and strong. She stood for herself, refusing to rely on any other for something she could possibly do herself.
The shields of ice grew with each passing day, thicker and stronger, warding off any possible attack. Rose still held a place, just outside the walls, closer than she'd let any other. Sisters, after all.
Until the mountain pass, none had managed even the smallest chip in her shields. Her heart was a lonely place, but secure.
When the wolf came into view, dripping blood and menace, instinctive fear caused her to snatch up the fallen blade and stand firm, to defend what little she had as best she could. Then the great wolf spoke, and the danger seemed somehow lessened. No logic, no reason, and the fear never wavered, but she felt somehow seperate from it.
He never smashed through her shields, nor did he chip away bit by bit at them. He simply bypassed them entirely, entering her heart almost unnoticed. Implicit trust, rooted deeply. Anything further was still contained by the icy shields that hadn't been weakened in the slightest. But she trusted him, enough to lower her sword and meet his terms.
Centuries later, it was that alone that she deemed reason enough to fight for him to hold the position of Sheriff. It was reason enough to pay from her own pocket the great price for the knife needed to let him walk in human form. And it was reason enough to go to him, grudgingly accepting one guard, to ask him to come with her.
The great wolf smiled quietly, more aware than she on some level of the connection they held. She asked and he was hers, he would join her pack and accept her terms.
Centuries passed. The shields held firm and continued to grow. No further intruders made it in.
Human customs were not familiar to the wolf, and his fumbling efforts to make an attempt at courting her had no outward effect. Behind the shields, something stirred gently, unnoticed.
One day, after some years had passed and various horrid incidents had happened to them both, they found themselves out in the forest with no memory of getting there, or the days that followed their arrival.
It occured to her to ask Bigby just why he felt so deeply for her.
He answered, and the shields softened slightly, uncomfortably.
Danger was present, and priorities were elsewhere, so she barely noticed the slight shift. They were running for their lives, and when Bigby told her to hide, she hid.
The stiuation as a whole had her on a sharp edge, and she couldn't help a flinch and a sharp twinge of nausea when Bigby was shot. She knew he'd faced worse, and figured he might be able to play dead and catch Goldilocks unaware. Another flinch came with each shot. Then Goldilocks commented on targeting her next, and Bigby spoke up to distract, to defend. It finally sank in. He loved her, loved her as deeply as he said. It was as if a laser had bored a hole through her shields, focused only at him.
She loved him.
Goldilocks was still out there, building a fire and actually posing a threat to him.
No. Not again, not now.
She'd kill the golden-haired bitch.
She barely gave it a thought, hardly noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. The hatchet hit its target with a hard crunch, then smoothly cut into the grey matter beneath.
It was less effective than she'd hoped, and now she acted with hardly a thought, simply taking whatever she had on hand to render the threat void.
Cliff, truck, river.
The threat was gone for the moment, and she was barely able to keep upright. Bigby was alive. Exhausted, bloody, but alive. It had all been worth it, she could let him know what she'd realized. But they both needed a chance to rest and recover first, certainly the priority was there.
After they were both sufficiently rested, things were taken care of and they were on a plane back to New York. She still hadn't told him, and the flight passed largely in silence. It struck her then that she honestly wasn't sure how to go about acting on this now. She needed time to adjust, to deal with loving again.
At the airport, she finally told him. That she wanted a relationship, but to take it slowly, give her time. He smiled and agreed, and they both returned to Fabletown in a better mood than they really should have.
Her shields hadn't begun to thaw yet, but she didn't fear the possibility anymore.
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