Crayola Rocks

I watch her there, coloring on the floor, and all of a sudden I am overwhelmed- how is it that my baby boy has had a baby girl of his own- and how is it possible that his baby girl is... no longer a baby?

"You see, Gramma, it's very important to be careful with the crayons," her voice is prim as only a seven-year-old instructing her elders can be, and she is almost comically articulate. "You have to color with them at the proper angle, so that their tips stay slanted like lipstick." She carefully replaces the 'marigold' she's used for the curly hair of the fashion doll in the coloring book, then draws out the 'strawberry' to begin filling in smiling lips. The two shades look lovely together; she has an eye for color, that girl. Something she got from her mother, for it certainly didn't come from our side.

You would think that after having three children of my own I would no longer be so surprised by the unique blending of traits that creates an entirely new person... but I am. I cannot help but marvel at the way this new person combines my son's blue-gray eyes with his wife's solemn gaze, or how the pale, freckled skin she got from her father stretches across the delicate bone structure that is her heritage from her mother.

She continues to work, oblivious to my musings; she has already filled in two images, and has begun work on a third. I smile at her coltish limbs, sticking out at awkward angles as she chews on her lip in speculation, considering her next color. She is not even a sixth of my age- how can she be so focused?

As I think this she dumps out all the crayons onto the floor and then picks them up one by one until they form a kind of technicolor bouquet in her small fist. Then, much to my amusement, she turns to a blank page in the coloring book, presses them all point-down against it, and draws a looping swirl.

"What happened to being careful about the angle? I ask, amused.

"Well Gramma," her voice every bit as serious as it was during her earlier lecture, "sometimes you just have to have fun."


(Crayola Rocks)

Discovered in a Book

i found you
forgotten
fragile as a butterfly's wing
the lushness of your youth forsaken
your veins bled out and dry
staining these pages scarlet

pages with words
written in a hand i never knew
written in a voice long silenced
written to remind someone
of a time
when words were worth more
than trinkets

i wonder if that love
faded along with this ink
or if it, too, was pressed-
held tightly between two lovers
and preserved.



(Split Geraniums)

Subject Switcheroo

We’re down in Prattville this weekend, so we took advantage of our proximity to Tim and Meredith to pop down to their place and hang out/have dinner with them (and of course their lovely daughter-whom-I-shall-call-Leafy). We decided that the weather called for grilling, so Nate and I brought over some steaks and corn-on-the-cob (note to self: farmer’s market is open again- make it a point to get corn from there from now on), Nate worked his marinating magic, and then Tim wielded fire and turned it all into food. Good stuff, good stuff.

Whenever we get a chance to get together like this, Nate and Meredith try to get some joint-photography going. Meredith has recently started experimenting with light painting, so it was suggested that that be the subject of tonight’s session, since Nathan is interested in learning more, as well. In the end Nathan didn’t actually end up taking any shots (he’d gotten a good one of Leafy earlier in the afternoon) but I think he learned a lot by working with Meredith on hers. Tim and I took turns being models and playing photographer’s-assistant (such is the fate of photographers’ spouses everywhere) and generally having fun. At least, I had fun- it’s always interesting to me to model for different artists, because everyone has their own methods. And I will say that it did not hurt my feelings at all when Meredith complimented my ability to keep still between shots rather than running to look at the camera… (A trait that pretty much comes from getting my training during Katie’s film-camera beginnings, I’m sure…)

Anyway the whole experience was just good, and it really illustrates how important creative community is when you’re an artist. That’s something I wish we had more of- or, rather, lived closer to. All our artist friends are scattered across the country, and it makes it difficult to get together and bounce ideas off one another like we did this evening. I look forward to the day when we can have more regular access to a Studio of peeps...

She's Got Legs

Let me just say that Hans got it all wrong. He was a bit of a romantic, that man- tragic romance, yes, but romance nonetheless. So when he retold my story he had to turn it into a love story, had to make it a quest for a soul.

But honey, it was really just a quest for a killer pair of shoes. And, of course, the ability to wear them.

There are many wonderful things about being a daughter of the sea king- a mermaid, as he dubbed me. Many wonderful things, indeed. Your hair always- and I mean always- looks good. You have more pearls than most people could even dream of. And the amount of swimming the lifestyle necessitates means that your body is totally good enough to pull off the topless look my people favor. All in all, not a bad deal. But the thing is you have a tail- and while that tail is just fantastic for propelling you through the water, it just sucks for accessorizing. Fins, not feet. Fins. And do you know what kind of shoes fit on fins?

Neither do I. Because they don't exist. Trust me.

I might have gone my entire life not even knowing what was missing, if my older sisters hadn't been in the habit of scavenging ship-wrecks. They brought me along one day, and I noticed that they kept discarding what were, to me, beautiful pieces of art. When I asked them why they told me they were useless- things called shoes that land-dweller females wore on their feet. Of course I knew what feet were- sea birds have feet, after all- but I had a hard time picturing them on mortal women. You must understand that the only glimpses I'd had of the creatures they were wearing long gowns, each and every one of them- I guess I'd had the impression that they were rather bell-shaped below the waist. But when I saw those beautiful little shoes, I knew I had to find a way to wear them- no matter the cost.



(She's Got Legs)

Sister and Brother, Pt II

(I took waaay more liberties with this final half... but I like it well enough that I think I might flesh it out. What do you think- worth it? Also I'll probably do some illustrations for it in the near future...)



The evil fairy had grown tired of her mortal husband, and had eventually arranged for him to be disposed of. Not, however, before she had given birth to a daughter by him. She purged the child of its mortality by plucking out one eye, and so the fairy daughter was ageless like her mother, but eternally disfigured, and nowhere near as beautiful as her half-sister. The evil fairy liked her less for this, and often abused her.

Years passed, and it was announced to the kingdom that their queen was to give birth to a royal heir. The announcement included a retelling of the queen and her brother’s early adventures, and when this reached the ears of their evil fairy step-mother, she flew into a rage, for she had always assumed they’d been torn apart by the wild animals of the wood. Her fairy daughter was listening as well, and she said softly to herself,

“How nice to have a handsome husband and a lovely baby, to be a loving family. I wish I might have such happiness for myself,” but she knew her mother would never allow her to live the life of an ordinary mortal, even if she hadn’t been so ugly. However-

“You shall have your wish!” snapped the evil fairy, and stormed off. The fairy daughter was frightened, for she knew her mother’s anger to be terrible indeed, but she had no idea what part the woman had played in the tale of the queen, and thus gave no thought to what plans she might now be concocting.

The next day the evil fairy bade her daughter mount up on a lovely white mare while she rode a white stallion, and the two of them made haste to the royal palace. The evil fairy knew by her arts that the queen was to give birth that very afternoon, and so put into the king’s heart a great desire to go hunting. After he had gone, she used her magic to give herself the appearance of the royal midwife, and took the woman’s place in the birthing chamber, where the queen lay recovering from her long labor. Her daughter she disguised as her assistant, and had her carry a basket filled with poisoned herbs.

When they entered the room the white stag looked up and made to cry out, for he was not fooled by her appearance. But the evil fairy twitched her fingers and the animal was struck down as though ill, unable to move or even make a sound. The evil fairy smiled sweetly at him, then moved to his sister’s side.

“Come my dear,” she said to the queen. “We have prepared a bath and refreshments for you, that you might recover your strength more quickly.” The queen, gentle and trusting as ever, allowed the two women to help her to the bathing room. Once there, however, the evil fairy built up the fire to an unbearable heat, threw herbs into it, and left the queen to suffocate in the poisonous smoke. Her daughter cried out at this, but the evil fairy struck her in the mouth and told her to mind her tongue or she would cut it out.

“Do you want a husband or no? Now get into the bed!” Terrified of what else her mother might do, the fairy daughter did as she was bade. The evil fairy then used her magic to give her daughter the queen’s form, although she could not restore the lost eye. “You must always lay on your right side to hide it,” she instructed, and the fairy daughter did so, weeping for the evil she had been a part of. Then the evil fairy transformed the queen’s body to look like her own daughter, and took it into the woods to be devoured.

Once the evil fairy had left the room, the fairy daughter rose up from the bed and walked over to the stag, who had witnessed everything with silent tears streaming down his velvety face. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for death, but when her hands touched him, they were gentle.

“Poor stag! That was your sister, I know, and now you are all alone in the world. I cannot undo the evil my mother has done, but at least I can be as good to you as a true sister.” And she kissed him between his golden antlers and wept again. Then, terrified that her mother might catch her, she crept back into bed and waited.

In the evening the king returned, and his heart was full of joy to discover his wife had given him a beautiful son. He rushed to her side, but was stopped by the evil fairy, still disguised as the midwife.

“No my lord, she must rest! Would you kill your wife with your selfish desire to see her face?”

The king was mortified at the harm he had almost done, and went away without having seen the false queen. After he had gone away the evil fairy went to the stable to tend her horses, and the baby’s nurse brought him to the false queen.

“Leave us be,” said the fairy daughter, and the nurse did so. The fairy daughter was enchanted by the beautiful baby, and held him to her breast, but of course no milk would flow, and both she and the child she cried bitter tears of disappointment.

“What use is it to have a husband and a son if I can give neither what they need? And how can I be happy knowing my life is built on the murder of another?” She crept with the baby over to the white stag and laid him down on its silken flank, then curled up with her arms around the two and slept, remembering to keep on her right side.

As she slept the nurse came back in but, seeing how exhausted the young queen looked and not wanting to disturb her, she sat quietly in the corner out of sight, keeping watch. So it was when the clock struck midnight she witnessed a silvery figure appear in the room. The woman glowed softly, but the nurse could see she was not beautiful, and she had only one eye. The apparition went over to the sleeping trio, picked up the baby, and fed him from her breast. Then she stroked the white stag and kissed him on the forehead before disappearing once more.

The nurse was did not understand what she passed, but she knew enough of the queen’s magical past that she was afraid to interfere. Each night thereafter, however, she kept watch and witnessed the same strange event. Sometimes the shining figure would even lay a hand on the sleeping queen, and give her a look filled with such pity it brought tears to the nurse’s eyes.

During this time the midwife continued to deny the king entrance to the queen’s bed, claiming she was still too weak to bear his presence. The king thought this must be true, for he could see through the bed curtains that she appeared to be wasting away. Fearing for his wife’s health, the king did not disturb her, though it pained him to keep such distance. He was at least comforted to see that the white stag never left her side, and he often caught a glimpse of her gently stroking him in her sleep.

One night, when the moon was but a slender crescent, the nurse heard the silvery maiden singing softly to the baby:

Twice more I come

To see my loves

Twice more by light of moon

My child and stag

I long to keep

But I must vanish soon

The hair on the back of the nurse’s neck stood up, and she knew then that however magical the queen’s life must be, such a rhyme could not bode well. The next morning she found the king and told him what she had witnessed.

“My wife’s life has long been steeped in magic,” he said, “Much of which has sought to harm her. I shall keep watch tonight, and we shall see what we shall see.”

That night the king hid in the corner of the room and waited for the figure. When it appeared he was disappointed, for it looked nothing like his wife. But then it began to sing:

Once more I come

To see my loves

Once more by light of moon

My child and stag

I long to keep

But I must vanish soon

As the last notes of her song trembled and disappeared, so too did she. The king wept then, for he knew that whatever shape the vision might have been, it was his wife’s spirit he had seen. He turned in rage towards the figure sleeping in the bed, but she looked so much like his beloved he felt confused, and could not bring himself to harm her. He stumbled from the room, uncertain what he would do.

The next day he came to the queen’s chambers and ordered the midwife locked in iron chains. She screamed as the metal touched her, but she could not win free of them. Then the king sent everyone from the room and sat at the foot of his wife’s bed. The fairy daughter, terrified of being discovered, pretended to sleep through it all.

“I know you are not my wife,” he said, “But I do not think you could have harmed her, either. I have seen the way you are with the white stag, her brother- you love him just as my wife did. Can you not tell me what has become of her?”

The fairy-daughter began to cry then, and sat up, revealing her missing eye. The king gasped and said, “The maiden who comes in the night to nurse my son- she is missing an eye, too!”

“That is my true form,” the fairy daughter explained. “My mother is an evil fairy who switched my body for the queen’s. I would give anything to bring her back to you, for I cannot stand to see you or the stag so heartbroken, but I do not know how! My mother never taught me magic of any strength.”

“Never mind,” said the king. “She will come again tonight and surely something will occur to us!”

That night, as the clock struck midnight, the true queen once again appeared. She picked up her child and began to sing:

No more I come

To see my loves

No more by light of moon

My child and stag

I long to keep

But I must vanish soon

The king cried out and leapt to embrace her, but it was the fairy daughter who suddenly realized what must be done. She threw herself on the sharp golden antlers of the stag, piercing her own heart and cried, “My life for yours, sister!”

When she did this the ghost disappeared with a blinding flash, and when the king could see once more he saw the fairy-daughter crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood, being nuzzled by the white stag. He rolled her over and discovered to his amazement that her breast was whole- and then she opened both her eyes.

“My husband!” she breathed, and the king knew his wife had returned.

The three of them rejoiced, but also wept bitter tears for the fairy daughter’s sacrifice. In the morning the king sentenced the evil fairy to death by fire, and as she turned to ash her enchantments were undone- the white stag became a handsome young man, sound in both body and mind. But before they could finish exclaiming over this, two strange white horses from the stables suddenly became an older man and a beautiful woman. The queen and her brother cried out and rushed to embrace them, for they were their father and mother, transformed long ago by the evil fairy. Their mother explained what she never had never told any of them before- that she, too, was a fairy, but a good fairy and a rival to the evil fairy, which is why the other had sought to cause so much harm to her and her family.

“But there is one of us missing,” she said, and with a wave of her hand the fairy-daughter appeared, summoned back from the dead.

“My son used his heart’s wish to give you the power to restore his sister, and you used your life to fulfill it. From now on you shall be a daughter to me; I shall restore your eye and we shall all live together as a family, happily and with great love and joy.”

And it was so.

Tigers in Germany: WTF

You know, it occurred to this evening-

Why the heck is there a reference to a tiger in a western European fairy tale?! The other animals make sense- both wolves and roe deer are native to the areas from which the story Brother and Sister (or Sister and Brother, as I've dubbed my version) sprang. But tigers? Dude, what the hell? I'd grant you lions, maybe, but not tigers. Why not a bear? I really think being turned into a bear would make more sense. Maybe I'll change that in my version... I do like for things to have consistent internal logic.

This entry is short, but I'm sure you'll forgive me when I explain that Nathan just got home.

Gotta' go.

Sister and Brother, pt I

(I like to retell fairy tales. Here's the first half of one the Grimms called Brother and Sister. It's kind of in bare bones form right now, but I think that's in keeping with the traditional format for fairy tales...)




Once upon a time there was a girl who had an older brother. The older brother had been touched by fairies in infancy, and could not be trusted not to wander. This is why, even though the girl was younger, it fell to her to mind her brother. Her brother was strong-willed, and not much inclined to be minded, but he loved his sweet little sister so much that there was very little she could not convince him to do, and so for the most part she kept him from harm.

Their mother had died when the girl was only five, but at last the day had come that their father was going to remarry. The girl was very excited- she had longed for a mother’s gentle touch, and someone to teach her the ways of women. She tried her best to be like a mother to her brother, but she feared she might be doing it wrong. A real mother could help her- and perhaps in time there would even be another child! Her brother was less excited about the change. He did not see why there should be more than the three of them in their little cottage- but in time she coaxed him around to her way of thinking, and the morning before their new mother arrived he went so far as to collect flowers for the woman.

When their father returned with his new wife, it was not on the old donkey he had left on, but rather on a lovely white horse. The girl was in awe- she had never seen such a magnificent creature in her life. Surely their new mother must be a fine lady, indeed, to have brought such a dowry with her!

The woman came forward to meet the children, and smiled warmly at the girl and complimented her on the neatness of her dress. But when her eyes fell upon the boy, the girl thought she saw a particular gleam come into them.

“Ah, young man! I have heard so much about you. Come, give your new mother a kiss- we are sure to be the best of friends!”

But the boy would not kiss his new mother. He let out a scream, threw the flowers in her face, and ran off into the woods.

“Brother!” cried the girl, and moved to chase him, afraid he might injure himself in flight.

“It’s alright, daughter,” the woman said sweetly, catching at the girl’s arm. “I must be new and frightening to him. Give him time- he will come around.”

But he did not come around. He avoided his new mother whenever possible, and positively would not meet her eyes. He reacted with violence any time she moved to touch him, much to their father’s rage. At first the girl tried reasoning with her brother, but when that failed she finally threw up her hands in exasperation and asked what was wrong with their new mother, anyway.

“She’s been very good to me,” she said. “She’s showed me how to do fine stitching, and a better way to make bread rise- and she’s teaching me women’s secrets, too!”

“She’s bad,” was all he would say as he rocked back and forth, arms around his knees and pushing himself with his toes. “Bad bad bad. She gets inside my head- she wants things… she’s bad bad bad.” And on he would rock.

The girl didn’t know what to believe- she had never seen her brother act this way. Normally he was so gentle- surely there must be something wrong with their new mother to cause him to react in such a way. But the woman was so kind to the girl and so concerned for her brother, always asking about his wellbeing. Surely those were not the actions of a bad person?

One night the girl decided to approach her father with her concerns, but as she got close to his bed she heard her new mother speaking to him in hushed tones.

“You must kill him- there’s no other choice. The fairies have made him evil, and he will do us all harm. You must kill him- there’s no other choice. The fairies have made him evil…” Suddenly the girl realized that her father was asleep, and the new mother was whispering these words into his ears, poisoning his dreams with them. Quietly the girl crept back to her bed. How long had this been going on? How much longer would it take for their father to give in to these nighttime whisperings? The girl didn’t want to wait to find out, so the next morning she gathered up some bread and a little skin of water, took her brother by the hand, and led him deep into the woods. Her brother, cheerful to do anything that involved being far from the new mother, didn’t ask any questions as she led him further and further from the parts of the woods they knew. Finally they stopped to eat a meal, and she told him,

“It’s no longer safe for us to be at home. We must go make our way in the wide world, and hope that providence will have pity on us.”

“We have to escape the bad woman,” he agreed, and reached for another sip from the water skin.

“No, brother. We must save it for later, when we are truly thirsty.”

And so they set off into the woods again, wandering until they were too exhausted to go any further. They made a little nest of the soft green grasses, curled up in one another’s arms, and went to sleep.

The next morning they set out again, and before long the brother was complaining of thirst. His sister handed him the water skin to drink from, but found it was empty.

“Oh no!” she said, “It must have leaked out in the night. We must find a spring to refill it at.” And so they went looking for a spring.

What they did not know, however, was that their new mother was actually an evil fairy- and she had married their father in order to gain access to the brother, all for mysterious reasons of her own. When she discovered that the children had escaped her, she sent out her evil magic to cause the water skin to leak, and then created an irresistible trap to capture them. And so the children did not think twice when they found an unnaturally beautiful spring, surrounded by flowers that were far out of season. The brother immediately rushed for it, for he was very thirsty, but his sister held him back.

“Wait,” she said. “I think I hear something. And so the brother waited, and finally the girl realized she was hearing a voice singing,

Woe be to he

That drinks from me

Vicous tiger

He then shall be

“It’s the water!” she gasped. “Brother, you must not drink from this spring, or you’ll turn into a tiger and devour me!” Her brother sulked, but turned away from the spring. Thirsty as he was, he would not endanger his beloved sister.

Before too much longer they came upon another unnaturally beautiful spring. Again the brother rushed for it, but again his sister held him back. “Listen,” she hissed, for this water, too, was singing to her.

Woe be to he

That drinks from me

Ravenous wolf

He then shall be

“I don’t hear anything,” complained the boy, and moved forward to drink.

“No, no brother you mustn’t,” cried the girl. “If you drink you’ll turn into a wolf and devour me!”

Again her brother managed to turn away, although by now his thirst was like claws raking at his throat. Still, he would not endanger his sweet sister for anything in the world, and so they walked on. This time many hours passed before they found another spring. This one was smaller than the other two, and somehow less unnaturally beautiful, but again the girl could hear it singing to her.

Woe be to he

That drinks from me

Hunted roe buck

He then shall be

“No, wait!” the sister called, but it was too late. Her brother had already dipped his face to the water and begun to drink, for he could wait no longer, and somehow he knew this water, at least, would not cause him to harm his sister.

As he swallowed the first mouthful, a brilliant flash dazzled the eyes of the sister, and when she was able to see again, a shivering white fawn stood where her brother had once been.

“Oh! Oh no!” The girl reached for the animal, but it sprang away and bounded off into the woods. Too weak to go on, the girl sank down by the edge of the spring and began to cry. What she did not see was that as her tears touched the water, they set off ripples far too large for their size. The ripples began to glow blue, and as they faded a head slowly emerged from the water. It was a water-fairy, hair streaming in swirls about her lovely face.

“Don’t despair, little one,” she said in a voice like gentle currents. “Your tears of true love have freed me from the evil fairy’s curse, and my water is safe to drink once more. Come, slake your thirst.”

The girl did so, and though she had never tasted water so sweet. Once she had drunk her fill, the water fairy said to her, “Now I shall give you three wishes, to repay you for my freedom. What would you like?”

“I want my brother back!” cried the girl.

“I cannot break the evil fairy’s spell,” said the water fairy sadly, “for she is much more powerful than I. But I can at least call him back to your side. Once he has come, slip this about his neck- it will help him remember who he is so he does not run off again.” And a fine golden chain washed up by the girl’s feet. Soon there was a rustling in the woods, and the white fawn emerged once more, looking vaguely guilty. The girl put the chain about his neck, and he followed her as docilely as he ever had.

“What is your second wish, little one?”

“I wish we had a safe place to live,” the girl said.

“Do you see that large tree on the other side of my banks?” asked the water fairy. The girl nodded. “If you circle around it you will find a little door between the roots. You may live there, if it pleases you.” The girl immediately ran to the tree and found the little door. When she opened it she was amazed to see that it led into what appeared to be the sweetest, coziest little cottage she’d ever seen. There was a little bed for her, and a cushion for the fawn, and the cupboards were full of good food to eat. She rushed back outside.

“Oh thank you!” she cried. “It’s perfect.”

“None may exit or enter save you yourself open the door,” warned the fairy, “so make certain your brother does not wander off without you.”

“Oh I will,” said the girl, and stroked her brother’s snowy flank.

“What is your final wish, little one?” The girl thought and thought, but as long as she had her brother and a safe place for them to live, she could not think what else she might desire.

“Is it alright if I give my wish to my brother?” She asked.

“It is,” said the water fairy, and turned to lock eyes with the little fawn. “But since you cannot speak, it must be a wish of the heart. I will know when it has been made.” So saying, she disappeared back into the ripples, and they never saw her again.

The brother and sister lived happily for many years in their little tree home, and each grew to maturity. The girl became a lovely young woman, graceful and sweet. Her brother grew into a beautiful stag, crowned with golden antlers that had three points each. Really it seemed as though he had always been meant for life as a deer- certainly he seemed much more at ease than he ever had as a boy. His greatest joy came from running free in the woods, and although his sister worried about him, she knew he was far faster and cleverer than any of the other animals.

The only time she would not let him out to run was in the autumn, when the hunters came to the woods.

“It is too dangerous,” she would tell him, time and again. “You are safe from the wolves in this wood because you have the mind of a man- but these hunters also have the minds of men. No, you must stay here with me, or my heart will break with worry.”

But the time came when he could no longer stand it- he must run with the hunt or else die of a broken heart, himself. His sister saw his great distress, and at last relented, though it grieved her to do so.

“After all,” she said to herself, “Were he still in human form he would be a man grown, and I’d have no right to keep him locked away, fairy-touched or not.”

All day long the girl waited in the house, worrying, but the stag gave the hunters a merry chase. It was no ordinary hunting group this day, but the royal Hunt, led by the king himself. The king was young and handsome, and full of hot blood and passion. When he spied the white stag with the golden collar he knew it was meant for him, and forbade any other hunter from shooting the creature. But no matter how he pursued, the stag seemed always to elude him, dodging with ease any arrows sent its way. At last darkness fell, and the king and his men were forced to return to the palace. The stag, too, returned home, and gave that particular knocking at the door he and his sister had devised to let her know it was him:

click click, clack clack, clock clock

And his sister immediately let him back into the little house. When she saw he had taken no harm from the day’s adventures she was greatly relieved, and the two of them curled up together to sleep. The next morning the hunter’s calls came again, and again the white stag gave his sister such a look of heartache that she had to open the door for him.

This day the king was better prepared to hunt a fantastic beast- he had brought with him a quiver of arrows given to him by his fairy godmother when he was much younger. She had told him then that anything they were aimed at they must necessarily hit, but he had never tested them, thinking them too fine to waste on childish games. Today, however, he knew at last finally knew what they were meant for, and when at last he found himself alone and staring across a glade at the stag, he let fly an arrow.

What his fairy godmother had not told him, however, was that while the arrow must hit anything he aimed it at, it would never kill another piece of fairy craft, which the white stag surely was. And so, even though the king had meant to pierce the beast’s heart, he instead struck him just above the hoof. The creature was away again, but not as swiftly as before, and the king found he could follow him by the trail of shining blood he left.

The white stag, out of his mind with pain and fear, soon ran home to his sister.

click click, clack clack, clock clock

The king arrived just in time to witness this strange ritual- and just in time to catch the briefest glimpse of the most beautiful face he’d ever seen as a young woman flung open the door and cried, “Oh my brother! What have they done to you!” before gathering the stag into her arms and pulling him inside.

The king made his way back to his hunters, feeling a great weight of guilt in his stomach- and more, feeling a new heaviness in his heart. It grieved him beyond telling that he had hurt the brother of such a beautiful maiden, had given her cause for distress. But even more, it grieved him to think of never seeing her again. He returned once more to his palace, and gave the matter much thought.

In the meantime, the girl cleaned and dressed her brother’s wound, and gave him a thorough scolding. In the morning he felt much better, however, and she could tell he wanted to go out once again.

“No,” she said, “I’ll not have it. You’re going to get yourself killed by those horrible men, and I shall be left all alone.” And she refused to open the door all that day, or the next. Her brother, however, began to refuse to eat, and finally on the third day she opened it once more.

“Better that you die free doing what you love than locked up and miserable,” she said, and cried bitter tears after he had gone.

At first the king was worried that once again the white stag would not come- but when the animal at last showed himself, the king turned to his men and gave them very specific instructions.

“Chase him,” he told them. “Chase him and never stop until the sun sets, but do not a single one of you harm him in any way, or let any harm come to him. I have a mission that I must attend to alone, but if I am successful we shall bring the white stag home before the moon rises.”

After his hunters had left, the king made his way back to the little door in the tree he had seen. He used two knuckles as though they were a hoof, and he knocked against the door:

click click, clack clack, clock clock

He heard the maiden saying, “Back so soon, my brother?” and his heart squeezed because he could tell she had been crying. Then the door opened, and he found himself breathless once more at her beauty (red-eyed though it was).

“Oh my!” she said, for she had not seen a man since her father all those years ago- and her father had never seemed so young or handsome.

“Please, gentle lady,” the king said, dropping to his knees. “If I had known the white stag was your brother, I never would have hunted him. I would never knowingly harm you or yours!” The maiden did not know, of course, that this was her king, but nonetheless she felt such a man should not kneel before her- or anyone.

“Please sir, come in. I will accept your apologies if you will accept a cup of tea, and keep me company while I await my brother’s return.”

The king did so, and they passed a pleasant afternoon together, until at last the sun began to slip below the horizon. As the last of its rays played through the leaves of their tree, the king asked the maiden if she would like to come with him, and be his wife.

“Only if my brother may come, too,” said she.

“Of course!” replied the king. “He shall live with us and have everything his heart could ever desire.”

And so when the white stag returned the three of them left the little home together, and went back to the palace. At first the girl could not believe she was to be a queen, but in time she came to accept it, and truly she became a fair and gracious queen, whose love for her people was eclipsed only by her love for her husband, and of course her brother. For many years they lived quite happily, until once again the wicked fairy got up to her mischief.