Gothikk Dwarf knew he wasn’t like his brothers the minute he was old enough to join them. His mother had been reluctant to let him go, he was her last son and she held on to him a touch longer than was strictly appropriate. His brothers attributed his strangeness to this. Gothikk didn’t wear clothes or hats of jaunty colors and he didn’t think that Snow White was all that great, except of course for her black, black hair and red, red lips.
Most of all Gothikk didn’t think that going off to work mining magic crystals for the fairies was all that special either. Gothikk would rather sit around composing poems about the sound of the moonlight and the thickness of darkness. He wanted to sing soft sad songs about shadow dreams and the heartbreak.
The other dwarves were not at all interesting in these things caring only for work and ale and repetitious songs about work and ale. So Gothikk dwarf decided that what he needed to do was to show his bothers true beauty. For weeks and weeks he gathered coal dust and the sparkle dust left behind when the magic crystals were pried from the earth. He collected them careful to keep them in seperate bags sewn from Dahlia’s, hiding them among the garden gnomes and under the painfully colorful rocks in the front garden. Gothikk didn’t have to wait too long for the inevitable night when the brothers had too much ale and ran off gallivanting in the woods with the unnaturally tall Snow White.
While they pranced in the woods like herd of fools, dancing with deer and bluebirds, Gothikk had to work quickly because once the coal and sparkle dust mixed the piles could grow, potentially filling the house to the brim. Only water from the wishing well kept that dangerous magic under control. Once he filled their bathing tub with the water and carefully mixed the dusts in, he took every piece of clothing and bedding, every towel and napkin, every curtain and rug and dipped them. He had to work hard and he had to work fast and with hands now dyed black and sparkling he rehung the curtains and remade the beds and folded all the clothes away. Right at the moment that he was done, the moon shot her rays through the front picture window showing Gothikk how prefect and beautiful the house now was.
Then from behind him the irritatingly tall Snow White asked, “But Gothikk, how are you ever going to tell your underwear apart?”
Gothikk had to admit he hadn’t thought of that.
Inspired by Write at the Merges Smash up found here.