Gravitation Storybook: The Snow Queen, Parts 1 & 2
Title: Gravitation Storybook-The Snow Queen
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Eiri x Shuichi
Other pairings/relationships: Eiri x Yuki, Eiri + Mika, Shuichi + Hiro + Fujisaki, Hiro x Ayaka, Maiko x Tatsuha, Shuichi + Ryuichi
Rating: PG, so far.
Disclaimer: Gravitation, The Snow Queen, and their characters do not belong to me.
Part the First: The Looking-Glass and its Many Pieces
Once upon a time, deep in the dark and stifling bowels of the earth, there lived a dreadfully wicked hobgoblin. His name was Tohma and he very much enjoyed being mischievous and cruel. He delighted in playing tricks on the people who lived on the land above him, for they were so terribly gullible and kind, and even the cleverest of them fell into his traps without fail. But one day, he grew tired of silly practical jokes. He wanted to do something extraordinary, something that would cause more ruin than other goblin before him had ever caused. He locked himself in his dwelling for many days and many nights, until finally, one day, he emerged in capital spirits. He gathered all the other goblins before him and presented to them his masterpiece: a looking-glass. It was an enchanted looking-glass and reflected everything that was good and beautiful in such a way that it could hardly be seen at all, but everything that was bad and ugly stood out very clearly and looked much worse than it actually was. The most beautiful landscapes looked like moldy bread, the most sparkling sea like rotten milk. And people with the most gorgeous features looked repulsive, grotesque, or seemed to have no skin and a face that was unrecognizable.
“It’s brilliant,” said Tohma, and the other hobgoblins agreed. “And now, we shall carry it up into Heaven, to make fools of the angels that live there.”
When he said “we”, of course, Tohma meant his lackey, a bespectacled troll that served him and hung onto every word he said. Tohma was showing a great deal of trust by placing the looking-glass into the troll’s hands, and he was determined not to fail, for displeasing a hobgoblin was not a wise thing to do.
The troll took the looking-glass above the ground and it began to tremble, but the troll paid it no mind. The higher he took it, however, the more it began to shake until, ultimately, the troll could no longer grasp it. It fell from his hands and hit the earth, shattering into a million, a billion, and more pieces. Some of the pieces were no larger than a grain of sand, and they flew about all over the world. This was a great misfortune, for if any of the pieces happened to fly into a person’s eye, it stayed there and then that person would see everything distorted, or would only notice the bad side of everything in view, for every tiny splinter of glass held the same power as the whole glass had.
When the troll returned underground and, frightened for his life, recounted the events of his mission to Tohma, the hobgoblin was neither angry nor disheartened. Rather, he was quite glad and rejoiced that such a thing had happened; he thought of all the lives such a catastrophe would ruin, and all the people who would be miserable and alone, and the thought pleased him so that he laughed and laughed till his sides ached.
And as he laughed, the splinters of glass continued to spread about the world.
And now we shall begin our tale.
Part the Second: Two Little Boys and their Roses
In a large but poor town, where there were so many people and so few houses that there was not enough room for everybody to have their own gardens, lived two little boys. They were not brothers or cousins, and indeed had no relation at all, but they loved each other just as much as if they were bound by blood. They lived opposite one another in two attics, and out on the windowsills they had put two boxes which they filled with roses. The roses grew beautifully, and in the summer the two children were allowed to take their little chairs and sit out under the roses to talk and pass the time. They could not do this in the winter, but they put hot coins against the frozen window-panes, and made round holes just big enough for them to look at each other through. Their names were Eiri and Shuichi.
On one winter day, it was snowing fast, and Eiri’s older sister, Mika, was entertaining the two boys with old tales and myths.
“Those,” said Mika, pointing out the window to the furious flurry of snowflakes, “are the white bees swarming.”
“Have they also a queen bee?” asked Eiri, for he knew that real bees had one.
“No,” said his sister, “but they have a king. He flies wherever they swarm the thickest. He is larger than any of them, and never stays upon the earth, but ascends up into the black clouds. Often at midnight, he flies through the streets and peeps in at all the windows, and the panes freeze in such pretty patterns and look like flowers.”
The two boys grinned in delight and wonder, for they had both seen such patterns on their own window-panes, and knew that it was true.
“Can the Snow King come inside?” asked Shuichi.
“Let him try!” exclaimed Eiri, who was older than Shuichi by a year or two, and liked to show off in front of him. “I would put him in the stove and melt him!”
“Oh, would you?” gasped Shuichi, who was easily impressed.
“I would,” affirmed Eiri, striking his chest in a manner he believed was quite bravely.
Mika merely stroked his hair and told some more stories.
That evening, when little Eiri was going to bed, he went to the window and looked through the little hole, wondering if Shuichi was doing the same. A few snowflakes were falling outside and one of the largest lay on the edge of the box he kept for the roses in summer. When his gaze fell upon it, the snowflake grew larger and larger and larger till it took the form of a man, robed in the finest white gauze. He was handsome, pale, with gentle green eyes and a friendly face, but he was made entirely of ice-hard, bright ice. Even so, he was very much alive; his green eyes glittered like stars and a smile tugged at his pale, pale lips. He nodded at the window and beckoned with his hand. Eiri was frightened and fell back from the window, holding his palms over his eyes for several moments. When he looked out again, the man was gone, and the next day there was a harder frost than ever before.
Then came the spring, then the summer, when the roses grew and smelt more beautifully than ever. One day, Eiri and Shuichi were sitting beneath the roses and looking at one of their picture-books, when something quite suddenly flew through the air and hit Eiri’s eye. A quiet noise escaped him-not of pain, but rather irritation.
“Eiri, are you hurt?” cried Shuichi as he rushed to Eiri’s side.
“No,” replied Eiri. He blinked his eyes a few times and said, “I think it’s gone now.”
But unfortunately, he was mistaken, for it was a splinter of the hobgoblin’s looking-glass that had embedded itself in Eiri’s eye. When he looked up and saw the roses, his nose wrinkled in displeasure. Now that the glass was in his eye, the beautiful roses appeared to him as ugly as boiled spinach.
“How absolutely repulsive!” exclaimed Eiri, and he reached up to take down the window boxes.
Much to Shuichi’s horror and dismay, Eiri then proceeded to rip and tear the roses from their soil as mercilessly as a vicious beast. He ignored Shuichi’s pleas for him to stop and when he was satisfied with the mess he’d made, he looked at the younger boy and frowned when he saw tears running down his cheeks.
“Do you know how awful you look with such a face? Keep away from me, I can’t stand it.”
And, pushing the younger boy aside, Eiri went back inside his house, leaving Shuichi alone to cry over the ruined roses.
As the days passed and summer turned into autumn, Eiri’s demeanor became as ugly as the things the glass in his eye made him see. He insulted his older sister, making fun of her and her stories, which he now considered foolish; he renounced things that used to please him, such as flowers and books, and turned instead to logic puzzles and hard facts; he forsook Shuichi and their friendship, saying he was disgusted with the other boy’s appearance, and instead sought out the company of older, roguish boys in the town. Shuichi was hurt and lonely, but he still held dear his memories of the way Eiri used to be, and did not abandon hope that one day they would be close again.
Winter finally returned to the town, and on a day when the snow was heavy and plentiful, Eiri took his sled and went to ride it through the town. He did not ask Shuichi to join him and did not tell his sister where he would be going. He rode his sled for over an hour and eventually he neared the outskirts of the town, close to a frozen-over river. As he advanced toward the river, he saw-through the thick snowfall-the form of a large sleigh, pulled by horses of the purest white. Sitting inside the sleigh was the man young Eiri saw through his window, only a year before; he would know his pale skin of ice and glittering green eyes anywhere. Once again, the Snow King beckoned with his hand, offering his palm, upturned and welcoming. And this time, Eiri took the invitation, leaving his sled behind on the snowy ground and allowing himself to be pulled into the sleigh, beside the cold body of the Snow King.
“Come, little one,” coaxed the Snow King, moving closer and opening his robes, so that the gauzy material could cover them both. “Come away with me.”
And he bent his head down to kiss Eiri once, sending a chill through his body, all the way to his heart, numbing even the tips of his fingers and toes. And the Snow King kissed him a second time, and his thoughts grew hazy, his memories turning to mist; he forgot all about his sister, the roses, Shuichi, and everything else that he had once known to be important.
“I’ll not kiss you again,” said the Snow King, “for that would surely mean your death.”
And then, with the Snow King’s arm tight around Eiri’s shoulders, away they flew over the town, its forests and lakes, over shining sea and snowy land, over shrieking black crows and cooing white doves, while high up above them the moon shone large and bright. And Eiri passed the long night of winter in this way, sleeping by day at the Snow King’s feet.