Princess Snow and the Empress

15: The Old Woman in the Woods

The sun hid behind the mountain ridge, leaving behind a lilac sky. Snow's half-sewn winter cloak, which she had been so eager to make that morning, laid unfinished in a corner of the cottage.

Snow sat by the window for what seemed like an eternity, staring out into the trees for a sign of Eldest Brother's bald head or Fifth Brother's wispy beard, but nothing came. Her bottom ached, the porridge of rice and beans would soon boil over – she rose to return to the cooking pot when a movement caught her eye, stopping her dead in her tracks.

It came from the forest. Snow squinted closer to the window. A figure slinked between the trees; too tall to be any of the dwarves, and too alone.

She quickly stepped away from the window before peeking from a corner of the frame. It hobbled closer and closer, back bent, moving through shafts of light sifting in between the branches.

An old woman? She had a head full of white and grey hair tied back in a bun; her clothes were dusty and tattered, and she struggled up the slope with what looked like a large basket slung over one shoulder. She must be trying to head to the border. Did she get lost?

The old woman moved up the slope in the direction of the cottage.

I have to hide, I cannot let her see me. I hope she doesn't come here, Snow thought, but she just could not take her eyes off the approaching figure. Just as the old woman reached the edge of the forest, she swayed on her feet, and then crumpled face forward onto the ground.

Oh no! Snow's first instinct was to run out and help her, but she remembered Fourth Brother's words: Stay hidden and don't leave the house!

Snow gnawed on her knuckles, staring uncertainly at the heap of rags and hair by the treeline. Wind tore at the woman's clothes, her basket rocked by her side. She looked like a fallen scarecrow.

She could die out there. Snow knew she could not leave the cottage, but she could not just stand idly by, either. She rushed to the entrance, pulled on her riding boots, and with a deep breath, flung the door open.

Mountain air blew down upon her, icy cold on her skin, tugging on her spring robes in all directions. The sky and the mountain range in the distance never looked more beautiful after all the months she spent in hiding, but she did not have time to appreciate the scenery. She ran across the clearing, stumbling down the slope, fighting to not trip over her own robes, and crouched next to the old woman.

Snow hesitated. The woman was so still that she could already be dead. With a trembling hand, she reached out to gently shake the old woman's shoulder. "Grandma, are you alright?"

The old woman's eyes fluttered open – her irises clouded and ringed in white. Her gaze fixed on Snow, and her bony hand gripped Snow's wrist tightly. "Water," she rasped through parched, peeling lips.

Oh, rats! Snow did not think of bringing water with her. "I have some at the cottage, let me take you there."

She hoisted the basket on her shoulder and helped the old woman to her feet, half-carrying half-dragging her as they made their slow ascent up the slope to the cottage. By the time they made it to the cottage door, Snow was beginning to feel faint herself. She set the old woman and her basket at the table, and went to fetch a cup of spring water from the water jar in the kitchen.

"Thank you, you are an angel from heaven," the old woman said before gulping down the water greedily. Snow seated herself at the table and poured the old woman a cup of tea.

"Forgive me, Grandma, we don't have much to offer you. If you've not eaten, I can give you a bowl of porridge with some beans." She turned towards the cooking pot. I'll give the old woman my portion of porridge and save the rest of the dwarves.