I climbed over the wall, the up-and-over vines almost seemed to help as I breached this apparently security tight castle. I'm no parading prince - just a romantic in search of my princess. Naturally. The birds were all a strange kind of piercing blue, as though the voice that drew me here had stuck to their feathers and made them gleam.
I believe anything.
But there she was, dignified, beautiful, small. Everything my handbook said she would be. Even those patches seemed authentic. Truly a damsel in distress as she sang into her wishing well. Like every prince walking in on a princess music number I almost lost it - lost her. I tried speaking, however "hello" seemed to frighten her. Surprising but true, I watched her dash for cover. I am no chamber pot! But I held my ground, ready to confess to my nameless love.
My timber voice cried out, "Now that I've found you, hear what I have to say!" (I'm nothing but straight forward). I drew her out like a bee to a flower, bird to seed, maid to broken crockery. She ran out onto the balcony to hear my singing and I held my dramatic pose, pouring out my heart to the girl.
It worked a treat! True, being kissed by a bird did almost throw me off, as any respectable man. However! Being kissed on the teeth by a dove would not have me fazed! Her smile was all that mattered. Her cheekbones lifted and she stared down longingly at me - and I was in.
Or so I thought. Yes, cue in the dramatic music.
I lost her. Yes, sigh in frustration and sadness as I did.
She had closed those red curtains, smiling flirtatiously and was gone! How could I have let her get away? Well, turns out (spoiler alert) her step-mother was terribly jealous of my precious girl, decided to send her away to be killed among the wild flowers. Poetic? Yes. Down right evil? Utterly.
But. My girl is nothing but resourceful, she charmed the poor ex-hunter and he let her go! ... there is sure to be a dramatic and painful death in his future, but I don't know the details. Just imagine much drama and skeletons and you get the picture.
Poor feller.
And well! She befriended a couple (okay, more like seven) dwarven brothers to take her in. The saying "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" apparently applies tenfold to dwarves.
However. It gets worse.
Just goes to show don't leave a dwarf to do a Prince's job.
The step-mother turned ugly. Real ugly. My girl's gentle heart melted at the sight of her carrying a little basket filled with apples- or so the birds tell me. It wasn't the queen anymore, but some old woman left in the bog too long. You almost would feel bad for her if she hadn't, you know, almost succeeded in killing the love of my life.
Almost.
But she did.
One bite of that apple and down went my beauty. Where was I? The dashing prince with voice like liquid gold? ... still looking for her. I would find her eventually! There was no time set or anything. No second date planned. I searched and searched, no one had seen skin of snow or hair of raven beauty. No one knew what became of my poor, sweet love. My friend Walt can testify I searched "far and wide" for my maiden... but to no avail.
Until. A drunk barkeeper who was better drunk then barkeeper mentioned a strange tale. He swore by his foul smelling ale of an outrageous, however intriguing story of a woman in a glass coffin. She was so beautiful that those who love her could not bear to bury her.
Good thing for me.
And so, I joined the last music number of my wife's tale. I sang one song for her, and one song alone. I galloped gallantly to her, walking down an isle of flowers to her coffin. Looking back, it was like walking down a marriage isle turned on it's head. But you get the picture.
I leaned in towards her face, features alabaster marble, and yet as soft and smooth as velvet. I wanted to know what she had hoped for, what she loved, what she dreamed. I had wanted to know the simple things, her favourite colour, favourite food. What made her laugh, made her cry? I wanted to hear her sweet song, to see her lips curve to a smile for the rest of my days.
I wanted to know her name. But I didn't think I could. So; I was going to say goodbye.
But I didn't need to worry. My licious lips did the trick and her beautiful eyes fluttered open like butterfly wings. I wouldn't have noticed in my grief, only I felt movement and a flash of warmth and there my sweetheart reached out for me!
Needless to say after doing a workout with the dwarves, Snow White and I have lived happily ever after. I soon learned her name - and meeting my parents had been interesting. I was the guy who solved everyone's problems. But nobody cares!
You people don't even remember my name!
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