The bulk of the actual tale is from the original Grimm brothers tale. I've played with it, added things in, tweaked and cut off the old ending. I hope you enjoy it.
There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage. In front of the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees, one of which bore white and the other red roses. One cold morning the widow found two foundlings on her doorstep. There was a note pinned to each blanket saying that while the girls shared no blood they should be raised together. No further explanation as given, there was no signature. While puzzled the widow was delighted that she now had two daughters. Two children who were like the two rose-trees, and one was called Snow-white, and the other Rose-red. They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two children in the world were, only Snow-white was more quiet and gentle than Rose-red. Rose liked better to run about in the meadows and fields seeking flowers and catching butterflies, but Snow sat at home with her mother, and helped her with her house-work, or read to her when there was nothing to do.
The two children were so fond of one another that they always held each other by the hand when they went out together, and when Snow said, we will not leave each other, Rose answered, never so long as we live, and their mother would add, what one has she must share with the other. They held to this ideal as they grew older.
The years passed and the girls grew into young women of twenty summers. Rose was still the wilder one. She would spend her days running about the woods, scampering about with the creatures she found there. Snow tended to stick closer to home, tending to their ailing mother and caring for their home. Rose found joy in racing against deer, Snow found joy in tending her garden and quiet walks. Both however, found their greatest joy in each other.
They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries, and no beasts did them any harm, but came close to them trustfully. The little hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of their hands, the roe grazed by their side, the stag leapt merrily by them, and the birds sat still upon the boughs, and sang whatever they knew. All the animals knew them by their voices and appearance. Snow's Pale golden hair and skin, Rose's deep auburn hair and lightly tanned complexion. Their voices would weave together in conversation to form a melody that the animals would stop in their tracks to listen to. They often played a game with the red berries. After they had gathered the berries in their basket they would usually eat a handful on their way home. After one had placed a berry in her mouth the other would say "what one has she must share with the other?" Then the one with the berry would lean toward her companion smiling. The other would press her lips to the others, then delve her tongue into her sisters warm mouth, retrieving the berry. This was a popular game with the two.
No mishap overtook them, if they had stayed too late in the forest, and night came on, they laid themselves down near one another upon the moss, and slept until morning came, and their mother knew this and did not worry on their account.
On such nights they would curl up together, Rose behind Snow. Rose would stretch out her arm on the ground in such a way that both she and Snow could make a pillow of it. Rose's other arm would usually be thrown over Snow protectively. Snow laughed at this, but enjoyed it nonetheless. They would wake in much the same position. Perhaps one would have her hand cupping the others breast or bottom, maybe a leg slid between the others thighs. If this was so they would give a lingering caress and then awaken their sleeping sister to begin the day.
Once when they had spent the night in the wood and the dawn had roused them they looked about. And when they looked round they found that they had been sleeping quite close to a precipice, and would certainly have fallen into it in the darkness if they had gone only a few paces further. Rose chastised herself the whole way home for being so thoughtless and not realizing the danger nearby. She was nearing tears when Snow stopped her and kissed her deeply, and then told her that nothing had happened, so everything was all right. When they told their mother of the danger she told them that it must have been the angel who watches over good children who saved them.
Snow and Rose kept their mother's little cottage so neat that it was a pleasure to look inside it. In the summer Rose took care of the house, and every morning laid a wreath of flowers by her mother's bed before she awoke, in which was a rose from each tree. In the winter Snow lit the fire and hung the kettle on the hob. The kettle was of brass and shone like gold, so brightly was it polished. In the evening, when the snowflakes fell, the mother said, go, Snow, and bolt the door, and then they sat round the hearth, and the mother took her spectacles and read aloud out of a large book, and the two girls listened as they sat and spun. And close by them lay a lamb upon the floor, and behind them upon a perch sat a white dove with its head hidden beneath its wings.
One evening, as they were thus sitting comfortably together, someone knocked at the door as if he wished to be let in. The mother said, quick, Rose, open the door, it must be a traveler who is seeking shelter. Rose went and pushed back the bolt, thinking that it was a poor man, but it was not. It was a bear that stretched his broad, black head within the door. Rose screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered, and Snow hid herself behind her mother's bed all the while yelling possible strategies to Rose. Rose later said that this was not terribly helpful, but that she did appreciate the effort.
But the bear began to speak and said, do not be afraid, I will do you no harm. I am half-frozen, and only want to warm myself a little beside you.
Poor bear, said the mother, lie down by the fire, only take care that you do not burn your coat. Then she cried, Snow, Rose, come out, the bear will do you no harm, he means well. So they both came out, and by-and-by the lamb and dove came nearer, and were not afraid of him. The bear said, here, girls, knock the snow out of my coat a little. So they brought the broom and swept the bear's hide clean, and he stretched himself by the fire and growled contentedly and comfortably.
It was not long toll the girls grew quite at home with the bear, and played tricks with their clumsy guest. They tugged his hair with their hands, put their feet upon his back and rolled him about, or they took a hazel-switch and beat him, and when he growled they laughed. But the bear took it all in good part, only when they were too rough he called out, leave me alive girls,
