Kurt sighed and stretched his sore muscles before scrubbing down the stone steps again. Queen Sylvester had ordered him to polish the worn away rock until she could see her reflection peering back at her, and it was with a stiff lip and feigned sweetness that Kurt muttered something that sounded like agreement and strode away to perform the tedious task.

It had been two hours, and the steps looked as dingy as they had when he begun.

The people of the land strode past him all day without notice, seemingly unaware of the abuse and negligence the young man endured. They didn't want to see, therefore they didn't. It would hurt too much to acknowledge that things in the land had to change, because it would only end in the harsh realization that nothing ever would; at least not for a very long time while the Queen still lived. The Queen had too much power, and nobody would go against her word. If there was anything Kurt had learned from being surrounded by politicians and workers his entire life, it was that she was always right, and it was better not to question her unless you fancied a quick lashing, or sometimes even death when she was feeling particularly brutal.

"Hi," somebody whispered cautiously. Kurt flinched instinctively, a temporary bolt of fright shooting through him. The bucket he was carrying sloshed water down the front of his pants and it was all Kurt could do to hold back a groan.

"Yes?" Kurt looked up to find David Karofsky, one of the Queen's huntsmen, looming over him. There was a bleeding doe strung across his back. Kurt shivered at the pool of dark crimson blood pooling around their feet, but he didn't say anything. David's posture was forced and tense, and for good reason. Nobody was allowed to speak to Kurt, it was an unspoken rule, though the pale, naive boy wasn't sure why. It was simply the way it had always been.

"Just...take this." David tried to offer a quick smile but failed. He simply dropped two small silver coins to the ground and rushed inside. Kurt looked around at the courtyard to make sure nobody had seen the quick exchange. It was eerily empty and still except for the drops of water falling from him onto the ground. Kurt bit his lip and shoved the coins into his pockets.

He would save them, just in case.

Inside the castle, Queen Sylvester paced around her lavish bedroom, worry etching into her very heart. She had been pondering the inevitable, that Kurt had begun to finish puberty, something that had plagued her thoughts since she first set eyes on the boy. Each day for the past three years, when Kurt presented himself at her office awaiting instructions, she noticed the small bits of infant fat leaving his cheeks. His shoulders were broadening and his jaw had become more prominent. His chest was filling out and faint traces of stubble scattered across his cheekbones sensitively, far from messy and not at all untamed as most facial hair was.

And he was beautiful, more devastatingly beautiful as each day wore on. His eyes shone as though he had lived a kind and wonderful life filled with magic and fairies, his hair was soft as cotton though he had few chances to wash it, and his skin was flawless and white as ever, almost snow white. No amount of pain or unfairness the Queen inflicted upon him seemed to put out that rare spark that he had, and it enraged her.

She paused before her mirror and examined her own reflection; wrinkled, lovely, but obviously fading. Her long blonde locks had shortened, her hair too damaged to wear long, while her blue eyes were dulled with hatred and prejudice. Age and bitterness were tearing away her beauty and she was determined to clutch to it with all her might. She frowned at her reflection once more before speaking.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" Sue whispered. It remained the same, only her frightened face staring back at her. A brief panic went through her when no voice responded.

"Tell me!" she screamed, and with a puff of smoke a face materialized from the inside of the mirror. It was gray and plain, worn away from being trapped in the dark depths of the wretched thing. Several years ago, the Queen had imprisoned an oracle in the mirror, promising to set the woman free only if she answered her questions honestly. That had been a lie, but it was the only reason the bound woman gave her the time of day, and the Queen kept it up without care. Guilt showed weakness and she wouldn't allow herself to feel it.

"My Queen..." the face began, frowning. A flash of white crossed the mirror's path, and Queen Sylvester tensed. She knew that colour. It was absolute white with a rosy tinge of life laced within it-

"No, no. You remain the fairest of them all."

Queen Sylvester relaxed, breathing deeply. She nodded curtly at the mirror and strode away, gazing out of her large window at the land before her. It was her, it was only her.

And that was the way she liked it.

You see, Queen Sylvester had something that most people those days lacked: ambition and determination. To her, there was no greater satisfaction than being the best, no-

There was no greater satisfaction than being the best and making sure everybody knew it, too. Growing up, parents and teachers alike had fawned over her looks, claiming that she was the prettiest child they had ever met. And for a while, that had been enough.

But the Queen wished to be more than just pretty, and she made it so. After years of hard work and bribes and carefully mixed youthful solutions she had been deemed the loveliest person in all the land and a deep sense of satisfaction nestled itself deep into her very being. That was just one year before the child was born.

Her younger sister, Elizabeth, nasty looking one she had been, fell in love and married a commoner. She was plain in every sense and the Queen often snickered to herself when she thought of how far she had come in comparison. But when Elizabeth gave birth, her baby was absolutely glowing and radiant with what the Queen had assumed was natural beauty, but any person with a good heart would have recognized it as simple purity, which was the most attractive feature a person could have. It was also something Sue would never be granted.

Queen Sylvester stole the child away and had her sister's family removed from the country, banished to never return again. That was long ago when she had some humanity, all of which had left her in a few short years. She took the child, a baby boy, and ordered one of her maids to care for him. He was dressed in rags, grease covering his looks effectively enough, and he grew up as a servant, too. He didn't question the woman's hatred for him, for he didn't know that what was happening to him was unfair. He'd never known another life.

Kurt, they called him.

But sometimes, somebody would pass him and see past the greasy hair and tangled eyelashes, and they would whisper, Snow White.

A/N: Tumblr prompted me to give this a try, since a lot of people were hoping somebody would write it. So here it is, the beginning of an AU Snow White Klaine story! I hope you'll enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Snow White, nor am I affiliated with Disney. I also don't own Glee and for good reason, I'd turn it into the Blaine and Kurt show.