On the Coldest Winter Night

Snow bit into the apple nervously and his lips tingled. The fruit made a loud crunch. He chewed and then swallowed. It was said that sugar helped calm nerves, but this seemed to have the exact opposite effect on him. He was more jittery and unsure of himself than ever. Snow groaned as he tossed the unfinished piece of fruit to one of the servants to dispose of.

The hall trumpeted and he took his place as he had in rehearsals.

Stand up straight. Chin up. Eyes forward. Bow slowly when meeting your guests. That was the advice Snow had been given. Frankly...it had proven useless.

Here he was, doing just that at the end of a long red carpet before the thrones with his father behind him. Each maiden of Stone Roll had gathered in the palace for a royal ball, which Arthur had declared to be for the prince's birthday as well as Christmas, both being so close to each other. It had been the most transparent lie the king had ever told his son. It didn't take a genius to know what was going on here.

Snow was finally of age, standing tall at eighteen, now. It meant that he was eligible to marry, and now was the time to start looking for the lucky girl who would become his queen. The very idea made him stir in his boots. He shook his head slightly as the newest guest turned and walked to take her place among the other maidens, and another approached.

Names he would forget immediately after hearing them. Daughters of lords and ladies from neighboring villages and cities within Stone Roll's borders. A sea of faces dolled up to a point of obnoxiousness. The evening had just started, and already Snow wanted to flee to his chamber, feign illness and not have to spend another moment in these festivities.

The next woman approached and exchanged bows.

His lips were turned up in a smile, but his eyes said it all. No interest. Besides, whoever this woman was, she was far too old for him. Possibly twice his age, he thought.

Then came a familiar face, and he relaxed a bit. At least there was one person here he was glad to see. Princess Paribanu was next. As she walked towards him, Snow looked about the great hall and spotted her brother, Ali, on the far side. Their eyes met, and he smiled for what must have been the first time that whole evening.

"A pleasure, your grace," Paribanu said as she bowed.

Snow's attention returned to her, and he bowed back. "The pleasure is mine. Happy you both made it here safely."

Their presence alone was enough to draw attention, being one of few guests who had been invited from beyond the Stone Roll's territory. However, it wasn't just their special invitation and connection to King Arthur. In a sea of girls with hourglass figures, frivolous ball gowns, big curls, and bright pastel fabrics, Paribanu was the dark horse of them all.

Paribanu stood out from head to toe. Her hair was that of the night, perhaps even darker than Snow's, wrapped in a crimson shawl that was embellished with gold trim and glittering stones. A small Emirati draped over her forehead with a ruby in the center. Red had always been her color of choice; the color of blood. It always suited her well, Snow thought.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world. Father insisted, and Ali...well, you know him. He looks for any excuse to be here."

"You both are always welcome here. I'll be looking forward to the first dance with you."

Her dress draped down her body, arms covered with wide sleeves. It appeared to be heavy material yet when she walked the fabric flowed in a brisk, airy fashion, bouncing softly around her. She looked like she was effortlessly floating across the hall. Men would stare, mesmerized by her bewitching beauty and women would sneer, envious having seen the prince give her a moment of extra attention.

The ball was a formality and a distraction from the unspoken agreement that Snow and Paribanu had already been promised to each other for years. This was to be the announcement of their engagement, a drama of a sort where they were to play their parts appropriately and send the audience off after an evening of pleasantries.

Snow could feel the intense stare from his father's eyes behind him, burning into the back of his skull, and he gulped.

When the last of the guests had been introduced, the festivities began. Dancing, dining, games, and entertainment of all kinds. Jesters juggled and acted. The Arabian dancers performed their fire shows, and the guests made merry, all except for Snow. It had all been expected, having to dance with everyone at least once, but the prince longed for nothing more than a moment to breathe and to be in the company of his closest friend.

He gazed over the ballroom, scanning the crowds for Ali, and for Fowler to give him the same signal he had always given him in anxious moments like these when suddenly his father's strong hand clasped over his shoulder, giving him an encouraging pat. "MY BOY! Enjoying the evening, yet?" Arthur's thunderous voice bellowed in his ear.

"Y-yes, Father," he lied, shaking as he turned on his heels. "Was just about to, erm~"

"WONDERFUL! Now tell your old man something!" He leaned in close, holding a hand up to his mouth in a useless attempt to keep their conversation private. Arthur had never known the meaning of the word modesty. He was a man who spoke with passion in his throat at every word. "Has anyone caught your eye yet? You know, I've yet to see you dance with Princess Paribanu. Waiting for the right song, are you? I can snap my fingers and it'll happen. Just wait a moment and I'll inform the orchestra!"

Arthur turned to wave at the conductor until Snow hastily pulled his hand down. "N-NO! I- I mean that is to say…" he gulped. His knees were shaking as he tried to come up with any excuse to keep his father from pressing this matter any more than he already was. Snow wanted this night to end as fast as possible, to go to bed or sneak away from it all! "I erm - want to win her over without help. Let my charm speak for itself."

Snow bit his tongue and swallowed, imagining he could take back those words. His insides twisted.

Arthur just tilted his head and smiled pleasantly at his son. "I see! Now that's the spirit! Why any maiden would swoon over you from just a kiss on her hand. Rise to the challenge, my boy! Go, show her what you're made of!" The king gave his son another firm pat on the back and shoved him in Paribanu's direction with a proud, confident smile.

The music perused through the ballroom, and Snow stumbled up to meet Paribanu again. His lips were pulled back in a forced smile as he cleared his throat. He had her attention. There was nothing to fear. It was just Paribanu - an old friend. "Well, my dear, would you care to dance with me this round?" Snow held a gloved hand out for her to take, and when she did he brought it up to his lips to kiss. "You're looking as ravishing as ever this evening."

Those final words tugged at him. He clenched his teeth, and his face sank into a slight frown. He couldn't hide his lack of interest.

Paribanu only smirked at him and stepped closer to him. "Yes, this is when we're supposed to dance, isn't it? We dance. We kiss, and then I suppose you'll want to whisk me away into the garden on a romantic stroll, won't you?"

Snow froze for a moment. Was he that predictable? Or did this girl just understand him so well that she could read his mind? "Well, yes. That was the idea. I mean, erh- after all, don't you know how lovely you'd look in the pale moonlight?"

"As opposed to any other circumstance? I look lovely no matter the scenery."

"Most certainly, but I just thought it'd be to..." He was starting to sweat. Why was she being so resistant to just dance? His eyes turned to their corner, trying to look behind him, but dared not to turn his head. He could feel his father's eyes focused on him, watching and waiting for him to carry her on the dancefloor. Snow gulped and Paribanu sighed, shaking her head.

"Snow, it's all over your face that you don't want me to say yes. So just let me reject you," she said. Paribanu pulled her hand from Snow's grip, lifted her skirt slightly from the floor, and made for the crowd of women without a gentleman of their own.

Confused and humiliated, Snow watched as Paribanu chatted amongst the other women, and soon after saw her escorting another onto the dancefloor for the next dance. His jaw opened in amazement. How was it that Paribanu could woo women better than he could? Was this a trick? Another one of her cruel jokes? An act? Had she convinced the other girl she was now dancing with to play along?

Arthur rubbed his hand over his face, frustrated as he observed Snow's pitiful failure, and groaned. "We've still got work to do," he muttered.

"Patience, my friend. It will happen in due time. They just need to get better acquainted with each other." Huran said cheerfully, standing next to him.

"They've known each other for over a decade! I don't want us to have to force them into an arrangement but if that's what it takes…"

Huran shook his head. "We still have a few years until last resorts are necessary. Let us try again next year. Until then, why don't you enjoy yourself and leave our children to me, hmm?" Huran aimed his gaze at the number of women who had come bearing no daughter, and far too old for Snow. "After all, there are two eligible bachelors here. Why not talk to someone?"

Arthur's face flushed, and he shook his head. "I'm not sure, Huran. I mean - it's only been a year since Scarlett...w-well, I'm not sure I'm ready just yet."

"You don't need to marry anyone tonight. Just a simple conversation or a dance. Come on, my friend. I only want to see you happy again." Huran extended his arm out for Arthur, encouraging him to look around at everyone who had their eyes on him, eager to be in his company.

The king sighed but put on a smile quickly. "Very well then. Just a dance."

Just like that, Snow watched his father sweep a guest to the dance floor. He was the only one without a partner, and now he was every bit desperate, as he was ashamed. Snow balled his hands into fists, thinking to fling himself at the next girl that crossed paths with him and taking her on the whirlwind of her life. Anyone would do. It didn't matter if they were a princess or a commoner, just so long as he could do what was expected of him.

He was about to shake off his doubt, march right up to a fair maiden, take her hand, kiss her gently look her in the eye, and say with every fiber of confidence in him-

"SNOW! Hey there! Ooooh, bad luck with my sister, ain't it?! Ha hah! Better luck next time!" Ali sucker-punched his train of thought as he slapped the other on the back. He snickered at the other prince as he bit into a chunk of meat on a skewer. "Great food, by the way! This meat is super expensive in my country. One of the perks when we come here!"

"Ali," he groaned as he straightened up. His expression softened when he saw the light in the other's eyes, and the slight smear of savory sauce on his lips. He sighed. "You're as carefree as ever, I see. What's your excuse? Rather dance with a glazed turkey than a princess? Or were you unable to find someone willing to lick sauce off your face?"

"Want to taste it, yourself?" Ali leaned in close, waggling his eyebrows. A suggestive, but also joking look was in his eye.

Snow shoved him aside as he rolled his eyes.

"For your information, I don't have to marry someone to become Sultan. In my nation, it's customary to inherit the kingdom through lineage alone." He bit the last cube of meat from the skewer and swallowed. "Welp, enough gorging myself!" Ali tossed the skewer at the closest butler to take away before pushing Snow along, guiding him as he walked.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting us both out of here. What does it look like?"

"Why?"

"You'd rather stay here?" Ali raised a brow and Snow looked back over their shoulder. Another dance was about to start. His father appeared to be distracted by Huran and an unnamed company. It was his chance to slip away just as he had wanted.

The prince shook his head and relaxed just a bit with a sigh. "Lead the way," he said, giving in.

"As I thought. Come on!" Ali pushed Snow along, leading right for the entrance to the rose garden. Upon exiting the ballroom they were both greeted by a slight chill from the evening wind. Well, Ali was. Immediately his teeth chattered and he raised both arms over his chest until the air was still.

Snow appeared unaffected and unamused. He looked over at Ali as they continued down the marble steps to the grounds. "That's it? You planned to just bring me out here for some fresh air?"

"And a walk. What? Don't have time to catch up with old friends?"

"We're supposed to be enjoying these kinds of festivities with our dates. Besides, aren't you the least bit cold out here?" Normally yes, people would be enjoying the evening air, but it being the winter ball, snow covered the garden hedges and frigid winds rolled. Both the princes could see their breath puff in fog as they spoke.

Come to think of it - why had he ever thought to bring Paribanu out here earlier? Maybe he was as basic and thoughtless as he seemed, having forgotten it was the middle of winter until he came out here, himself. Then again, Snow was never affected by the cold the same way others were. It felt like...nothing. His skin remained fair and smooth, and his body felt normal. No stiff joints or red, frozen ears lobes.

In the summertime, the garden was a lush and extravagant place. Hedges were trimmed and sculpted to resemble animals of myth or past kings. Roses of all colors imaginable bloomed and barred their thorns at anyone who dared try to pluck them. Games would be held on the large lawn, birds would sing as they bathed in the fountain, and guests would have cakes and tea in the gazebo as musicians played and artists painted the nobility's portraits.

Yet now, on winter's night, it was a dark and bleak environment. Flowers had long wilted from the frigid cold. Any remaining petals clung to their stems by sheer luck, rotten and discolored. Hedges were dull and gray, topped with thick layers of white. Sculptures were overgrown with branches poking out haphazardly.

The only signs of life in the garden were the two princes walking hand-in-hand over the snow-covered cobblestone path, and the faint music from the ballroom behind them.

"I feel fine," Ali said. An obvious lie. Snow could see him starting to shiver. His hand trembled as he reached out and grabbed around his own. "You can be my date. I don't see anyone else around here."

Another joke. One that made Snow a bit uncomfortable. He pulled his face back, blushing slightly, and stuttered. "A-Ali! Ergh~ Shameless as ever." They continued walking, and Snow, after a moment, removed his gloves to tuck them away in his coat pocket before slipping his hand back into Ali's.

Heat. He could feel it pulsing from Ali every time they shook hands or hugged. Ali was prone to it - gifted with fire magic. A moment later and it seemed Ali was back in control of himself, no longer shaking or shivering and Snow relaxed a bit, allowing his shoulders to drop.

"Happy?" Snow asked as they continued aimlessly.

"The question is - are you happy? It was pretty obvious you didn't want to be there?"

"Yeah. A little. Obvious to everyone except Father." He exhaled, sending another wave of fog out in front of him before looking over at Ali and pinching his brows together. "You are helpless, I swear." There was still sauce staining the edge of Ali's lips.

"Weren't you the one who needed me to steal you away from your birthday? Seems like you and I are both helpless, just in different ways."

They turned and continued away from the main path. The music from the grand hall became fainter.

"I can't deny that, I suppose. Although speaking of birthdays, I don't recall receiving anything from you this year."

"Didn't know what to get you, but…" Ali was smooth with how he moved. He stepped ahead of Snow and pivoted on his toes, circling his arm around him until his hand found its place on the other's hip. "I could give you a dance right now. You still hear the music, don't you?"

His heart thudded. Ali was pressed up close to him. Their eyes met, and Snow froze. He felt Ali's leg step between his own, guiding him to lean back. "Gah! A-Ali, come on. Now's not the time for jokes," he said. He was blushing.

"Who said this was a joke? You know, Snow - it's funny how your skin never turns red from the cold, but you still get flustered and embarrassed." Ali was teasing, tearing through the old fibs that Snow would have told him if given the chance. It didn't work anymore. They weren't children. Now they were becoming young men. "It'll be fine. It's a dance."

They began. Ali led Snow through the motions, stepping from side to side and spinning around. It was an aimless tango, but one they were both invested in. Ali was watching his movements carefully, making sure not to make turns too wide, or spins and dips too sudden. Snow remained fixated on Ali, not needing to have his eyes on their feet.

It was just a dance. Just a walk in the garden, alone. Just them slipping away from the crowds and their families like always. And when it was over they'd act like nothing had happened, like it was all meaningless.

Not to Snow.

The dance was intimate. The moment was too short. With Ali, everything came naturally. There were no expectations from him, no front to uphold, no mask to wear. When they were together and alone, Snow felt like he could allow himself to melt, and all would still be okay. He wanted this to continue longer than it was supposed to. He wanted to be doing this in the ballroom like he would with a princess. He wanted Ali to be the guest of honor instead of any maiden in the kingdom. He wanted Ali to be the one his father was excited to see him talking to. Snow wanted to...he wanted...to lick that bit of sauce still on his face.

The moment was right. An opening. Snow leaned forward and his lips graced the corner of Ali's mouth. He traced the tip of his tongue over his skin, gathering it all in one swoop. It was chilled, yet still savory.

When Snow stepped back the dance had ended, and Ali was just staring at him, confused. He let go of Snow's waist to touch the spot he had licked.

"Erh! Y-you still had sauce on your face and it was distracting so I just-" He didn't have the chance to finish speaking. Ali closed the gap between their faces again and pressed their lips together. It was unexpected, frightening, and left the prince standing still, dazed and bewildered.

Time stood still.

When Ali pulled himself away he reached a dark hand to caress Snow's pale cheek and slowly rubbed his thumb over him, tracing under his bottom lip. The prince was shaking, trembling in his hands. "Snow…" he hushed.

The prince's hand reached up to hold around Ali's wrist, brushing back the cuffs of his clothes. "I love you." The words slipped past him with only the thought needed to summon them from within. He was barely conscious that he had spoken, half thinking he had imagined himself saying it. Yet it was clear Ali had heard him when the other prince's eyes flickered.

"Happy birthday, Snow."

They kissed again, deeper and more passionate than before. Ali tilted his head and slipped his tongue past Snow's lips, tasting him. His hands moved to hold him close, grabbing Snow through his clothes. His fingers began to flip and undo the buttons on Snow's coat and reach in to press against more skin.

"I think I have a gift for you after all…"

Snow couldn't hold himself back. Ali's touch was addicting. His blood boiled with passion. In Ali's arms, he found security, safety, sanctuary - a million different words that all meant the safe thing. He didn't want to have to go back into the ballroom or dance with anyone else. Snow had the only person he needed right in front of him, undressing him on the coldest winter night.

It was magic, a spell that neither of them wanted to let end even as the clock struck midnight.