Work Text:
Two tea cups, two forks, one plate of cakes arranged in pairs. Two bodies, two souls, but a life so closely lived that many see them as one. Their life, their memories, their atrocities and their perceived charities, all tie back to their joint name. The Northern Twins. Lords Snow and White. Numerous nicknames of the years that aren’t nearly do flattering. No matter what it may be, those who live and die around them, thinks of them as they do themselves – inseparable. Side by side is how they’ve been for as long as either remembers, serving only their own interests and never having desire to do anything but. That’s how it should be and how it should continue. And yet…
Snow’s fork scrapes dissonantly against the china as he scoops up a mouthful of cake, his focus too fixed on White’s face to even notice.
And yet this seed has buried itself so deep inside him, taken root and flowered. With eyes bright like gems, that man had tipped his poison directly into his ear.
“Have you never questioned that until you die, you’ll never experience loneliness?”
Loneliness.
He’s seen it. The gray eyes of their first pupil had been drenched in it the first time they’d met him. It sits in the faces of those who come into towns they’ve taken it upon themselves to look after since their dear children went off on their self discovery quest. But to know how it feels, how it tastes and to know that deep longing to have someone by your side? Not once in his thousands of years alive has he experienced anything that can be compared to it.
White’s lips part to accept another mouthful of cake between them, a happy hum accompanying the action, before he looks up and meets Snow’s eyes. Almost identical to his own, the fact that looks back at him smiles, filled with warmth and familiarity. None of this is because he hates White, nor that he wishes for them to be forever apart. He wants to follow this craving and leave on a journey, experience things he may never experience with White walking in step with himself, and then when it gets too much to take and he has to return? He’ll share all of it with him. Tales of his adventure and places he’d been that White will love, he’ll get to see the smile on his face as he shows him sights they’d never have seen together and beasts they’ve never met. At the end of loneliness comes reunion and he looks forward to that as much as he does experiencing this unknown feeling.
That’s the thought that pollinates the flower grown from that seed, leading it to grow into a fruit ripe and shiny for his picking. White hates it when he shares the idea with him, but it’s already grown, he’s obsessed by it. Plucking the fruit from the branches he holds it close to his chest, regarding the sobbing and pleading from White with pity as he makes his plans to one day soon bite into it and taste it’s juices.
It won’t be long, months, may be a year or two and they’ll be back together. White just doesn’t understand that yet. Tapping his pen against his lips as White’s tear stained face breaks out into manic laughter, he tries to recall the name of a cave rumoured to exist on the most northern point of the western shore, with precious stones trapped in the ice of its frozen ceiling that colour the room like stained glass when the sun shines through them. White would love that, he’ll take him there once they reunite once more.
-----
For the first time in days he can let his guard down. For the first time in days he can let himself be vulnerable. Gasping for breath and completely and utterly drained, the relief of victory washes over him, before the reality of what the last three days has led to hits him at full force. Lifeless in his arms, White’s skin begins to show cracks. Snow’s seen this before many times, countless wizards and witches have been turned to stone by his and White’s hands, but he never imagined he’d be watching it happen to White.
Loneliness
It hits him with full force, like and avalanche crashing down over him, stealing the air from his lungs and suffocating him. It was never meant to go like this, this wasn’t meant to happen. He can’t bear to look as White’s body starts to lose it’s form; many wizards would rejoice at the sight, many have tried and failed at what Snow’s just achieved but where they would celebrate, he only feels despair. He can’t take it, being apart from White. The two of them are parts of a whole. Without White there with him, he’s incomplete. The first tear falls hot and heavy down his cheek, setting in motion a torrent of tears. Maybe he’s mad, for trying it, but he does the only thing he can think of in the moment out of sheer desperation to bring him back.
“Noscomnia”
Using White’s mana stone as an anchor, he chants their spell over and over, until his throat is raw and his voice cracks and breaks. He can’t take it if this doesn’t work, he can’t continue on without him. He’ll do anything, even if it means losing his magic, anything to get to see his other half again. Once more he calls out their spell, and feels a tug at his own soul. He can feel his power being drained from him and only pushes harder. This has to work, it has to. Alone and surrounded by snow, he wills the impossible to happen.
Alone.
Until he’s not.
He thinks he’s gone mad at first, it seems more likely than him having succeeded in pulling White’s soul back into this world. Reaching out towards the apparition of White, he starts to sob anew as his hand meets with a physical form. He’s cool to the touch and his expression is one of deep despair, but Snow finds himself surging forward toward him, wrapping him tight in his arms as exhaustion finally sets in. He knows his magic will never be what it once was, the price he had to pay to bring White back was no small cost, but it’s well worth it in the end. Never again does he wish to feel that crushing weight of loneliness.
-----
“Whatcha doing?” A curious voice calls out to him, followed by Murr dropping down from the ceiling. There’s mischief in his eyes, danger. “Where’s White? Or did you finally decide to find out what loneliness is for real?”
A cackle leaves Murr as he floats back up into the air and Snow’s lips press into a fine line.
“Hohoho, ‘tis the day myself and White spend apart. From what I’m aware of he’s gone to the marketplace with some of the younger wizards.”
“And what’s that like? Do you feel lonely? Do you hate it? Does it make you feel despair to be apart for even a little moment?” Murr starts to throw questions at him in rapid succession. He can feel his pulse raising and stress starting to build in reaction to Murr’s interrogation. “Or maybe you like it now? Maybe you’ve finally gotten bored of him. What will happen if you do? Will he stick around? Or the moment your heart wavers will he disappear – like poof! And he’s gone!”
“Murr.” A smooth voice cuts in, like a handler with his pet, Shylock chides him, talking him down from ending up on the receiving end of Snow’s wrath. “Do you not tire of playing with fire in this way? Lord Snow I apologize.”
“Fret not, he had barely begun, your timing was impeccable.” Though no matter how swift Shylock had been, the seeds have been planted and have already taken hold.
“I’ll be sure to punish him properly later.” Shylock takes a drag from his pipe, his forehead furrowing slightly as Murr drops from the air once more to stand at his side.
“What type of punishment? Will it be fun? Will it be exciting?” With the subject changed from Snow’s interrogation, Murr lets himself get caught up in Shylock’s promise to punish him instead. Truly Snow does have to question whether a man like Murr can even be punished.
Taking the chance to leave the conversation, he finds his legs leading him to his and White’s room. These days of mandated loneliness are a reminder of what neither of them ever wish to experience again. Murr had struck a nerve though. One day White will disappear and Snow will have to live with that crushing loneliness. Is it possible that he could die from a broken heart? There’s no telling just how he will cope but from his previous experience, he can already tell that it’s unlikely to be well. Reaching up a hand to the portrait of White on the wall, a sad smile crosses his lips. Even when it’s just for one day, it still hurts to be apart.
If he’d never met Murr, if they’d never had that conversation, things would be so different to how they are now. In ways he has grown since then. One might wonder if losing White has caused them both to be softer and lose their edge. He’s still quick to anger and to jump into action without thinking but maybe he has changed, the Snow and White of today are a far sight from the Snow and White who took in Figaro and Oz two thousand years ago.
Not all change is bad, for a being as old as himself, it would be foolish to think that he’d not experience changes over the years. They are both kinder these days, would never think of treating the young wizards in the manor the same way they treated Oz and their insular little world where they focus on nothing but satisfying their own whims has started to open up a little, especially with the current Sage.
He’s never going to be able to handle White slipping away as his magic wanes and he never wants to experience life without him again but he does have to wonder if now that he’s widened his little circle further, if it would be cruel to say that he’d be truly lonely. He’s made new bonds and deepened those with his old pupils. He’ll be in despair when it happens and inconsolable, but perhaps he’ll never get to experience real loneliness as while White is still his world, he’s not the only one in it any longer. No one will replace White and Snow wouldn’t want them to, the bond they share is special, a relationship that no one will be able to replicate. Two parts of a whole.
The sound of a door opening pulls him from his thoughts, and he’s greeted by a smiling White holding a bag of shopping. It’s warm, filled with affection and love. It’s the kind of smile that shows relief at simply seeing Snow once more and being reunited with one another. White’s heart may no longer beat, but he warms Snow’s heart. Just the sight of him is enough to snap him out of the train of thought he’d been going down.
“Snow dear you simply must try these teas, a new little shop has opened up in the town centre and they’re delightful.”
Mimicking the bright smile on White’s face, he finds himself running over to him, heart filled with joy at seeing White again so soon. They were supposed to meet back up in the evening, but a glance outside tells Snow that perhaps he spent far longer inside his head that he’d realised.
“I would love to White, shall we see if Nero has some sweets in the kitchen?” He can tell there’s a moment of hesitation on White’s face, that shows he can tell that perhaps Snow hasn’t been in the best of places. He doesn’t let him dwell on it. “We shall have a tea party, just the two of us!”