The Middle Princess

“Once upon a time in a far away land.....”

Who am I kidding? I’m sorry this story can’t begin in such a misleading way. This is no fairy tale; there is no way to dress this tale up or skim over the brutality of this story. I am afraid we must just jump in with both feet.

Kennis was a beautiful baby; a Princess by birth and the middle of twelve daughters to a harsh King. Yep, ‘The’ twelve Princesses; you know the story, dance all night and worn out shoes. I digress, when the Princesses came of age it became apparent that Kennis was unique. Her Father worried that he would not be able to marry her off and so jumped at the first marriage proposal thrown in her direction. The proposal came from a not so desirable Knight, with a reputation for treating his women (and there were many) badly. But the King was harsh, the Knights prowess on the battlefield was legendary and his daughter was dutiful.

Fast forward five years...

“Wench.”

“Wench.”

“Where the hell are you? Get out here; it’s about time you gave me with a son.”

She could hear him crashing through the rooms of her prison, getting closer.

Kennis suffered this every night when Kellen was not away defending the kingdom, she suffered his brutal force with grace. Never once allowing him to see the true affect he was having on her; destroying her soul, taking it piece by piece. 

When Kellen had had his fill of her and the ale had finally lulled him into a deep slumber Kennis slipped out of the bed chamber and into the cool moonlight. There she screamed into the night, she let her tears carry away her pain. She called out the name that had dominated her dreams for as long as she could remember; the name of her Prince that would come and save her someday, the Prince who wore out her shoes.

Exhausted, her face wet from tears, Kennis collapsed into the still warm grass. The thought of ending this torture once and for all was dancing around her mind; when a sudden draft beat across her bare skin. Then again; a cool respite from the summer heat. Kennis looked up wanting to cool her face. At first she couldn’t make out the figure before her though her tears, it was huge and were those wings?

“Devyn?”

Are you real?

"Muuuuuuum?"

"Yes honey?"

"Is Cinderella real?"

"Yes darling, if she is real to you she is real."

"I think I need to go to Florida just to make sure!"

"Oh! Why Florida?"

"Because that's where she lives of course!"

.....Silly Mummy, why didn't I know that!

Now I guess I could have gone into the history of fairy tales originating in folk lore and how folk lore probably started out as real events just passed through the generations and under going a 'Chinese whispers' kind of transformation. However I was torn between the 'how sweet' and 'I'm too tired for that conversation' reactions. So it looks like we will be going to Florida, probably on the pennies in her piggy bank!

But you know my brain can't leave a question like that hanging, it has to twist it in some way and tie its self in knots somehow!!

What makes something real?

Is a sound still a sound if no-one hears it? (Ok maybe I did watch a little Qi too.) Is it even a sound if it is only heard by one person, I mean they could report it and be lying.

Scientific discoveries require scrutiny and the more scrutiny they are subject to the more accepted the discovery becomes....the more 'real' it becomes. So on that score does something have to be scrutinised or verified through interaction to become real?

What of the words we write then? Yes sometimes we write about 'real life' other times pure fiction. Is the fiction any less real if it has been read by another? Is sharing the words with another all it takes to make them real? We write a blossoming love, is it so? We pen a passionate exchange, is someone living that fun?

I day dream sometimes of a place where our words come to life, the act of sharing wills them into existence. Maybe they have their own little worlds confined to the walls a writer creates, or maybe they wander among us.

But then sometimes that thought scares me. Somethings are only meant for the page, somethings are never intended for sharing, somethings need to remain not quite real!

All this got me to thinking of Cornelia Funke's Inkheart series. I love Inkheart, the rest of the trilogy is on my ginormous to-read list!! I never did get over the fact they only made the first book into a film. Plus it is a fantastic excuse to include a picture of the lovely Brendan Fraser!

And if a cute guy reading a book doesn't float your boat

Try that look, floppy hair and all...excuse me while I go melt somewhere!!

What / who would you read out of a book if you had the ability?

By Request (Fairy Tale Friday, just a little late!)

In December I surrendered a Fairy Tale Friday post to return to a favourite fairy tale of a blogging friend, Snow White and Rose Red. Following that post a few of you wanted to know what happened next and I guess I did too.

So here is the end of Snow's tale and what became of the stranger in the night, Sorry it took me so long to find the happily ever after!

Snow White and Rose Red, The Happily Ever After

The days began to lengthen and winter gave way to spring. On this particular morning Snow White and Rose Red were tending the garden and planting seeds ready for the summer crops. Snow looked up and to her surprise the stranger who once spent a night with them by the fire was there, standing at the edge of the forest. Her heart leapt, for in the months that had passed not a day had gone by when the stranger hadn’t crossed her mind.

“Hello Sir” Snow greeted him; “We hadn’t expected to see you again.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually return to the same area, let alone anyone who has helped me. But for some reason I was drawn back here.”

There was something familiar in the stranger’s eyes that Snow couldn’t quite place. As they stood there drowning in each other’s eyes his grew darker.

“What troubles you so?” Snow asked.

“I shouldn’t have come here. I have put you and your family in such danger. I just haven’t had a meal in days and was close....I thought....No I’m sorry, I will leave.”

He turned to leave, “Wait, don’t go. At least have something to eat before you set out again” Snow said desperate for him to stay a while longer. “We were just about to prepare some lunch any way.”

The stranger hesitated, “Please, come” Snow whispered and stepped forward to taking his hand. Gently she pulled him towards the cottage.

While Rose continued with the chores outside, Snow and the stranger prepared lunch. They talked, mostly about the life Snow and her sister led, although Snow managed to find out that he was called Will.

That afternoon Will helped the sisters continue to prepare the garden for the coming season. They laughed and talked all afternoon whilst working and before they realised the sun was setting in the sky and dusk was upon them.

“Please stay the night” Snow begged Will, who was insistent that he must leave. “Father has not been well; some company may brighten his spirits”

The sky was clear, it was going to be a cold night and eventually the sisters managed to convince Will to remain with them for the evening. Will was humbled for a second time by the families trust and selflessness.

After dinner the girls regaled their Father and guest with tales of old; of fairies and dragons and other creatures of magic. During one particular story of a conniving dwarf there was a strange and unworldly howling from the forest. Will seemed to be worried by the sound but a moment later the stress was wiped from his face by Snows words and the noise abated soon after.

The next few days sped by in a haze of contentment as Will helped the family with chores in exchange for a spot in front of the fire. He almost forgot about his plight.

That night was a full moon and there was a strange feeling in the air. As Will watched the pinks of the sunset streak across the sky he dropped the tools he had been carrying and realised he had made a terrible mistake.

Snow sensed that something was wrong and also stopped.

“Will, what is it?”

“I fear I have put you in grave danger.” Will said

“Why do you say that?”

“I need to tell you a story. I need to tell you my story.” Will explained.

The pair sat down on a tree trunk that was used as a bench. “It all began many moons ago when an unassuming man of small stature came to the door on a winter’s night, a night which was very similar to the night I first met you. He was cruel and bitter and continued to ask for more and more which my parents eventually said no to. This enraged the little man who cursed me and my brother to a life wandering the lands. A life where we cannot settle, we cannot love for when the moon is whole we become monsters the likes of which you have never seen. I should not be near you when that happens, for in those moments I may not be able to control the beast.”

“Oh, Will” Snow exclaimed, “is there no way to end the curse?”

“There is, the man who is responsible for the curse must die under a full moon. I have tried many times and failed. I must leave now to try and get far enough to keep you safe. I will return to you, you have my word”

“Please don’t leave again, I don’t think my heart could stand to feel so empty.”

In that moment the words didn’t mean anything, in that moment Will fell to the ground and began to turn and contort in many different ways. He was becoming the one thing he feared most and all Snow could do was watch, feeling her heart break for the pain this was causing him.

There before Snow was indeed a monstrous creature. It was twice her height and resembled the form of a great bear. However Snow was not afraid of the creature before her, its fur was the colour of Will’s hair; its eyes were the same warming hazel and full of sadness and shame. He was there still, locked within. Snow stepped toward Will, making to touch his muzzle but he shied away from her touch and bounded towards the woods. Snow fell to her knees; she had found the missing piece of her being only to have it ripped away so suddenly.

Rose came rushing to Snow’s side, “what is the matter sister? Are you hurt? Where is Will?”

“Gone” was all Snow could whisper.

Snow added guilt to the mix of sickening emotions she was feeling as she sat uselessly watching her sister do all of the evening chores. After they had eaten their evening meal the sisters sat before the fire as usual, however there were no sweet and melodic notes this evening. Suddenly there was a loud hammer at the door to break the silence.

Snow leapt from her spot and flew to the door thinking it could be Will seeking refuge, throwing open the door she stumbled and only just stopped herself from falling onto the small man who stood  in the door way.

“Good evening young miss, I wonder if I may trouble you this fine evening for a spot of water? I have been travelling for many days and my canteen is empty.”

Snow didn’t know why but she didn’t trust the sincerity in his voice, “I’m sorry sir, I cannot help you this evening. There is a stream a ten minute walk across the pasture, the water is pure and you can easily take your fill from the banks.”

With that the man’s eyes became thunderous and he screamed at her “you are all the same, no one is kind to anyone who is different to themselves.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her onto the path.

“Is this what you covet beast?” he growled into the forest, “is this what you returned for? By the time the sun has risen in the sky she will be gone, a tasty snack. Then I will return for the other two!”

There was a rumbling and then an almighty roar from the trees and Will came bounding, in his bearlike form. One swipe and Snow was thrown to the ground, free from her captor’s grip. The fight seemed sure to be over in minutes; the beast against such a weak man. But then the man pulled something metallic from beneath his jacket and in a swift and nimble movement sliced at Will’s stomach.

“No” screamed Snow as Will crashed to the ground, blood seeped from the wound, steaming when it pooled on the frosted ground.

She was about to run to him when the man turned his eyes on her, “Thank you. I needed him to become attached to someone or some place in order to catch up to him. And now he is finally dead the kingdom’s riches will be mine.”

Snow felt at her belt for her mother’s dagger. Her father had given it to her as protection in the forest for her and her sister, until now she had never needed to even touch it. But now she touched it in anger, in rage. The man started to make his way to where she was on the floor and as he bent to grab hold of her once more she buried the blade up to the hilt in his chest, removing the blade, as her father had taught, to maximise the inflicted wound.

“What the...?” he gasped, falling backwards against the garden fence and crashing through it.

Tears were streaming down Snow’s cheeks as she raced to Will’s side. The beast was retreating and leaving a very naked Will in its place.

The wound in his stomach, although quite deep, was not fatal, and with Roses help Snow cared for Will over the coming days.

“Why?” Will whispered a few days later, “Why didn’t you just run?”

“Because I was taught to fight for what you love.”

The two were married and Snow’s father was well cared for in the light of Will’s considerable wealth. And Rose? When Will’s twin brother returned from his cursed exile the four part puzzle was complete.

"A powerful force that seemed to connect all these tales. Hope" Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz - Once Upon a Time

We all hope for our happily ever after, will we recognise it when it arrives?

 

Find My Heart

Following on from last weeks post my reading has continued. Gossip from the Forest (Sara Maitland) continues to educate me, although sometimes I think that this isn't a hard thing!

Take today, I had a huge 'doh!' moment when Maitland was discussing the unique connection of forests to European fairy tales. An obvious thing when you think about it; no children are likely to get lost in a forest in one of the 1001 nights. Who'd have thought......I can be so docile sometimes!!

Anyway, forests......

Soft mulch underfoot, an earthy smell,

Angel rays through branches filter.

Time to sit and breathe and think

Where leaves are troubles sanctuary.

From silence and the shadows,

If only we do wait.

Sprites and fairies come out and dance,

And in our dreams do play.

For here is where my heart is light,

Here is where it sings.

This is where my heart does lie,

In the forest, hidden.

Its funny how I set myself these little tasks, I intended to write a little story about a heart hidden in the forest. A place of sanctuary and protection, not danger and loss. But then that is not what comes out at all. A little idea to be filed away for another time maybe.

So what has your mind conjured?

Just because I love this song at the moment!

And a little food for thought, do you believe?

Fairy Tales and Forests

If some one said 'forest' to you, what would your first thought be?

Ok, had your thought?

My other half's initial reaction is to shout back (please imagine appropriate accent), "Run Forest, run!" Which makes me giggle every time!

If you were in a forest or woodland area what direction would your mind wander in?

Slight tangential paragraph, hang in there it will make sense!

I love working in a library. Simply for the fact that librarians are amazing at finding books, how much more amazing is it when they get to know your quirks and when a random book crosses their path they know you will be interested in it! I'll tell you....totally amazing. A colleague has done this for me recently and I took a look at the book in question today, oh and I have fallen for the book within the first few pages!

Sara Maitland - Gossip from the Forest (The tangled roots of our forests and fairytales) 2012

It starts with the dedication; ".... the true princess (No green vegetables were hurt testing of this hypothesis)"

Then continues with the definition of 'gossip'  and goes on from there. See I told you that I was going somewhere with that ;-)

She talks about the earth before the last ice age and what was left behind after the melt. And this line caught my imagination.

"And so once upon a time it was all forest. Forest enough to be lost in it forever"
 

Ooooo, did you get a shiver?? I did. The next couple of pages (which is as far as I have read) she goes on to talk about how, whilst camping in a forest, the conversation she was having made it's way to fairytales. I have to say, with the way she describes the forest they were in I think that is where my mind would have wandered.

 

For more from this talented photographer visit Lee Johnson Photography

Here's a challenge; if you can go out into a forest great, if not your imagination is your greatest tool. Imagine you are in a forest or wooded area, now where does your mind go? If it is a particular fairytale, which one? Is it even fairytales at all? Let me know in the comments or turn it into a blog post if you like and link back. I will complete the challenge and report back next week, including any other gems from Maitland's book I discover.

Happy dreaming.

 

Day 28 NaBloPoMo December - Hansel and Gretel

A couple of weeks ago I asked everyone what their favourite fairy tale is and my twitter pal Anna told me her favourite is Hansel and Gretel. Mainly because of a certain Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode that was based on the fairy tale.

My plan was to re-write peoples favourite tales, kind of like story telling for the next generation, however....I don't know if it is the season, the tale it's self or the inevitable adverts for charitable causes that surface around this time of year. But I just can't seem to get an angle on this one to re-write it...

The only thing that pops into my head is how fairy tales are all about the loss of innocence; of growing up, taking responsibility and the horrors the world can hold. I wonder if this is how the stories began in the beginning?

Hansel and Gretel; was this a tale to try and explain that when times are hard people get desperate, or is it a tale to tell children that parental love is not a given? Either way there is a certain encouragement to grow up, for the children to become responsible for their own fate.

I think maybe I just don't relate to the adult characters in the tale and that is the reason I have struggled to re-write this?? I cannot understand how parents can possibly consider abandoning their children. I know if food was short I would pull an Erin Brockovich and watch my babies eat and go hungry myself, the thought of abandoning them in the forest would not even cross my mind. Plus growing up before their time is something I never want for my children, been there...done that...got the t-shirt and it went baggy!

So apologies to Anna, I meant for you to get a lovely Sleepy re-write and you got my rantings instead. As a sweetener....

 

You can still let me know you favourite fairy tale, either in the comments or click on the 'you want me' tab for other ways to contact me. Fairy tale Friday's will still be appearing in January, just maybe not every week. Stay tuned for the post NaBloPoMo line up!

Day 14 NaBloPoMo December - Favourite Fairy Tale Friday

Last week I asked for your favourite fairy tales and Jewles from Frazzled & Frumpy chose one of my favourites. So for this reason (read here writers block and I have something old to re-hash that will work) I will feature her choice today.

No seriously, Snow White and Rose Red is not one of the more popular fairy tales, yet when Deb at Kicking Corners set a challenge based on this fairy tale I was hooked.

I read some fairy tales and see all the twists and turns, I see the way things could have worked out after the 'happily ever after', I see the same framework with a modern take or sometimes the whole dynamic in the tale gets flipped on its head and I see a widower not a widow. Sometimes they don't speak to me at all!!

More often than not I get to wondering how this story started, were the village elders trying to warn the younger generation about the dangers in the world? Or did something happen in a village and the story erupted out of that?

Did the family in this tale let in a very hairy stranger to shelter and did one of the daughters fall for this ruggedly handsome man? Has the story developed from such a non-magical beginning? Stories and tales have traditionally been passed down through the generations. Each story teller tweeking the story as it passes through their age. Will people tell our stories in such fanciful ways long after we have gone? Or has the ability to record and reproduce information and stories all but buried this tradition. Our tales doomed to be re-told verbatim time and time again, never to change. And how sad would that be?

Sorry tangent much, sorry! In response to Deb's challenge I attempted a re-write of the tale, and here it is. I hope you enjoy it and if you have read it before (thanks for sticking with me for so long) can you see if I have tweeked my story on the second telling?

Snow White and Rose Red

see original here

There was a man and woman who lived on the outskirts of a vast forest. They lived a simple life in a small cottage; grew vegetables in their garden, collected fruit from the trees around their house and kept chickens which dutifully gave them eggs for breakfast every morning. The woman loved nothing more than to tend flower garden, especially in summer, when she would hum along with the bees as they skipped from flower to flower. Her favourite amongst them all were the roses that guarded the front door. One a deep ruby red and the other the purest white rose that ever there was. These roses produced beautiful blooms from the passing of the last frost until the first nip of Jack in the winter.

Every day she would cut one bloom from each rose and place them in a vase, taking a moment to say her silent prayer wishing for a child whom they could shower with love. Her husband felt the same and wondered year after year why they had yet to be blessed.

A few years later, when they thought that all hope was lost, during her usual ritual and silent pray the woman caught her finger on a thorn. Her blood splattered on the crisp snow, the first of the season, at the base of the roses. T hat winter the roses continued to bloom along with the unborn children in her womb. The woman gave birth to beautiful twin girls. But tragedy struck and she only survived long enough to name her daughters; Snow White, for she had the palest skin anyone had ever seen and Rose Red, for she had lips as red as the rose at her door. The man grieved for his soul mate but adapted to his new role as sole parent well. Every day he continued the tradition of placing to roses, one white one red, in the vase at the window; saying his silent prayer to his wife and expressing his gratitude for the girls they had longed to raise together. Life continued, but from the day of her death the little cottage was never without roses in the window. They continued to bloom throughout the winter, defying Jack Frost and his reaches and bringing a smile to the widowers face, letting him know he was never alone.

His daughters grew to be just as beautiful and gracious as his wife. Rose Red became a passionate young woman, head strong in her ways, even in her childhood exploring the forest with reckless abandon. Snow White was her opposite in almost every way, the quiet and watchful of the sisters. During their childhood the sisters complimented each other, doting on their Father and always ensuring their chores were completed before going into the forest to explore, sharing everything together; they were the dream come to life.

One evening, as the girls sang in poetic harmony to their Father, there came a knock at the door. Raising calmly Snow opened the door to the icy air and was faced with a tall and dark man wearing a brooding expression.

“May I enter to warm by your fire, the night is so cold and I will not make it to where I am safe”

“Of course, please sit, I will fetch a blanket” came Snow’s compassionate response to the figure before her. He was a tall and well built figure with long dark hair pulled into a leather thong at the nape of his neck. He stood there in just jeans and shirt sleeves, with ice crystals in his hair trying fight the convulsions that came with being so cold. As Snow returned with a thick crocheted blanket Rose moved from her customary spot in front of the fire to let their mysterious guest sit. Although they were all curious as to the predicament the stranger found himself in none drew attention to it, they simply whiled the evening away with anecdotes, laughter and tea. Eventually came the time when they were all ready to retire to bed, even give his concerns for his daughter’s safety the Father could not bear to see this man turned out into the cold and dark of the forest.

As the man rose to bid the family farewell the Father, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder, said “Please, we have little, but feel free to sleep by the fire and remain safe and warm for the evening”

The man was rendered speechless by the family’s kindness and could simply nod in appreciation.

The following day the sun was shining and it was beginning to feel like spring was in the air. After spending time helping the family with the daily chores, the stranger bid the family farewell.

“Will we ever see you again?” Snow asked as they parted at the garden gate. She was quite taken with this lost soul who had wandered into their lives.

“May be some day, when you need me, maybe” and with that he was gone......

 

I had completely forgotten I hadn't finished this....Hmmm think I will have to revisit this and complete the tale.

Hope that makes you feel a little better Jewels ;-)

Day 7 NaBloPoMo December - Fairy Tale Friday

Fair enough, I admit it....I have run out of time. I wanted to write a post about a cool fairy tale which is believed to have come from Lancashire, looks like this will be next week.

Instead, how's about we go with a little audience participation?? All you need to do is leave a comment with the details of your favourite fairy tale and why.

Simple, right? Or is it harder than it looks......

We will see what happens with these favourites over the coming weeks, I have plans....bwahahaha!

original here

Day 30 NaBloPoMo - Happily Ever After??

Phew, I made it to the end of the month. Not just in terms of posting daily but just sheer making it through everything that it has thrown at me! But guess what, I have signed up for December NaBloPoMo.....Yes I am certifiably insane, and I'm loving it ;-) I will be in really great company with The Modfather and Nested already signed up to the challenge. Now, now, don't run screaming for the hills, another month of me everyday isn't all that bad!!

This fairy tale Friday I have been thinking a little about happy endings. Fairy tales have become synonymous with two phrases 'Once upon a time...' and 'Happily ever after'

Happily ever after, is this even possible in life? Or have we been fooled into expecting that life should be a Disney movie?

Fairy tales weren't always like this, earlier versions were more gruesome and happy endings were harder to come by.

But then, even the Disney versions aren't all candy floss and chocolate, I mean within the first twenty minutes of most there is some kind of tragedy; Bambi's mother is shot, Simba's father is murdered, Cinderella's father dies.

I wonder if we do have our happily ever after but life is the messy stuff before we get to it??

Looks like I am just tying myself up in knots here!! What do you think?

Today I am grateful that I have lived through my tragedy and am living my happily ever after. I know of some families that aren't so lucky at the moment, I just hope that their happily ever after is just around the corner!

Day 23 NaBloPoMo - Will the real red riding hood please stand up!

*APOLOGY / DISCLAIMER*

You may want to put the kettle on and grab a snack before you sit down to read this post, my Red Riding Hood re-visit ended up being a lot longer than first anticipated (try about 1,000 words longer, I was aiming for 300-600. Oooppps, hehe). Anyway, it's the weekend so sit back with a cup of something warm and enjoy (or at least I hope you will!)

 

 

Last week I set a little challenge for you all to sink your teeth into and I promised to go away and work on a re-write of my own. Deb at Kicking Corners has been posting hers in instalments for most of the week (think I should have taken a leaf out of her book!) and has at least me on the edge of my seat waiting to see how it ends, here is part 1, I always think it is best to 'begin at the beginning' (it's an Alice thing).

 

In the spirit of beginning at the beginning here is a link to the Brothers Grimm version of the tale. I am sorry that I can't hand you one of my copies of this story, especially the really old version. Reading them from paper seems to make them more magical for me.

 

I sort of opted for a 'what happened next' version, with a few extras. I hope you like it.

 

 

The Hunted Turn Hunter

 



 

Maddi sat watching the torrent of water moving and gurgling as cut through the earth, gathering pace and mass on its journey to the Cascades. If she closed her eyes she could hear the thunderous roar from here, they were heading in that direction but she knew they had at least a day’s hike before they reached the village and more to get to the Cascades.

The noise brought with it a flash back to the day Skathi saved her, or dammed her, after all these years she still wasn’t sure which it was.

She was young, naive and completely taken in by the handsome stranger. She could still remember his syrupy voice, how he made her feel like she was the centre of his universe and then the physical pain as his betrayal hit. It was like a square on blow to the stomach how he used her to take the one thing that mattered to her.

 Her Grandmother was the matriarch to the village, as was tradition she lived in isolation so the Seers could converse with her. Only the purest member of the family was allowed in her presence to tend her needs. Fen used her to get to her Grandmother, he changed before her eyes into a wolf of monstrous proportion, the sight of his bones breaking, twisting and reforming froze Maddi to the spot and she watched helplessly as he ripped her Grandmothers throat out. His attention then turned to Maddi but mid pounce there was a yelp and he landed on top of her. Wounded but not dead Fen had beaten a hasty retreat with an arrow in his back.

“Maddi we need to move out” Skathi shouted from the tree line

Coming out of her reminiscence Maddi collected her bow and Quiver and started to jog after Skathi, throwing them across her as she went; they had much time to make up. Last night’s storm had delayed them; they could only hope it had delayed Fen too.

As darkness descended they decided to sleep just outside the village; Hunters, dressed in leather and carrying weapons, were easily recognised and very rarely welcome in villages, especially this one.

Being so close to home brought back so many memories. Staring into the flames the clearest memory was of her first transformation.

 Fen may not have been able to complete his attack but he still ruined her life with just one scratch. She had had no idea why he held such a magnanimous look in his eye as he made his retreat, not until the burning pain of her insides twisting and reforming. She watched her life slip away as the disgusted look dawned on her mother’s face looking at the half breed she was now faced with.

“It is no daughter of mine, take it, burn it. It will pay for the disgrace it has brought on this village. Let us hope the Seers accept the sacrifice”

Hot tears burned down Maddi’s face as she remembered the words that cut through her soul, the heat of the flames as they reared around her feet. In that moment she wanted to die, in that moment she wanted the Seers to take her and punish her.

It had taken Skathi ten years to make Maddi see that she was needed, that she saved her from the flames because she had a purpose. Ten years for Fen to rear his head again. This time they were two, this time she had a new weapon, this time she had Maddi.

“Get some sleep Maddi, you’re going to need it.”

Maddi woke startled from her sleep. Her training kicked in before her brain did, she surveyed the tree line crouched and arrow poised. She could smell something, something out of place. Slowly Maddi moved, almost crab like to where Skathi was sleeping and nudged her. In moments they were back to back arrows aimed into the shadows of the trees, waiting, breathing.

“When I saw him come through town I had a feeling you wouldn’t be far behind”

The sound of that voice was enough for Maddi; she lowered her bow and stood up straight as Artur stepped out of the shadows. The gangly young boy she knew was all grown up, it took Maddi a moment to remember they weren’t the same age any more, the last time she saw him was the way she had always thought of him. This young man with his copper hair dropping down over his beautiful hazel eyes was not the boy she knew.

“Artur, I.....”

“Missed me, yeah I know I missed you too”

“But I.....”

“Couldn’t come back, yeah I know! Now shut up and come here” As they closed the gap Artur scooped Maddi into a bear hug, whispering into her red curls, “Still wearing red I see”

“The wolves can’t tell the difference” Maddi replied.

“Ok, reunions will have to wait a while, Fen is massing a pack and he is coming for the village”

“We know” Skathi replied in her usual curt manner

“So when do we leave?”

“Artur there is no we” Maddi said, not wanting to leave so soon after finding him again, “You can’t come”

“I’m sorry; you’re thinking you can stop me?”

“We don’t have time for this, we have to go” Skathi turned and started her harsh pace into the woods. Maddi had come to appreciate her emotional distance.

“Whatever, if you can keep up and be silent, oh and won’t be watching your back” With that Maddi started after Skathi.

“What the hell happened to you?” Artur muttered as he set off at the same pace.

To Maddi’s surprise Artur actually managed to keep up and didn’t even seem to need any recovery time. Maddi didn’t have any time to reflect on that right now. From this vantage point they could see the pack camped on the banks of the river that the Cascades fed into. Dawn was just breaking, sending shots of pink and orange across the thin clouds punctuating the sky. The pack were still sleeping, but the more Maddi looked the more she was sure Fen was not down there.

Just then a twig broke in the shadows behind them, when Maddi turned she saw a figure standing there.

“This is impossible” Maddi exclaimed, taking a step forward.

“Hello my dear” came a frail voice from the dark

“Grandmamma? How? I...” it felt like the world was moving, like a rug being pulled from under her feet. Maddi had to grab for the nearest tree to regain her composure.

“Madder, it has been a while” There was a syrupy tone to this voice that Maddi just couldn’t put her finger on.

“I always wondered what Maddi was short for” Artur whispered to Skathi

“Sush”

Maddi moved slowly and tentatively closer.

“Grandmamma, what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to see you with my dear, though I am old and my sight is failing. Step closer so I may see the woman you have become”

“My, Grandmamma, What big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with my dear, though my hearing is not what it was. You must come closer you are speaking so quietly”

“And what big teeth you have, Fenrir!” Maddi straightened and aimed her bow as Fen revealed himself with a mighty howl, waking the pack below. “You think me so easily fooled”

“Well you were last time” Fen smirked

“I have grown since then Fenrir”

“Oh, I can see that” There was an undertone to Fen’s voice that Artur wasn’t much liking.

“Don’t talk to her like that” Artur raged

“Or what pup? What will you do about it?”

Just then the sound of the wolf pack baying came from the forest, distracting Maddi for just a moment.

In that moment Fen leapt, pouncing towards his prey, moving through the air toward Maddi. In that split second Artur threw his axe and Maddi watched as it buried its self deep in Fen’s chest. He dropped, mid-pounce, right at Maddi’s feet.

Skathi was at Maddi’s side in a split second, “This isn’t over Maddi. You know what must be done!”

Hanging her head, Maddi inhaled deeply, she could smell the forest and the wolf pack just in the shadows, waiting to see what would become of their Alpha. She looked towards Artur, with a tear in her eye.

“Please don’t watch this” she begged.

With that she dropped her weapons and fell to the floor as her insides burned and twisted like an acid coated hand was trying to rip them out, but she was fighting back. Slowly her body reformed into the slender wolf that was the other half of her.

Maddi stalked over to Fen, whose broken body lay gasping in the dirt. Artur moved forward and removed the axe from his chest and looked directly into her green eyes, the same green eyes he had grown up with. That look conveyed everything Maddi needed to go through with what had to be done. That look that said he understood.

With a low guttural growl she sank her teeth around Fen’s jugular, ripping a gaping hole in the broken wolf’s neck, making sure he was incapacitated. Then she turned her attention to his chest, using her teeth and claws she ripped at his chest until his beating heart was visible. In one final manoeuvre his heart was in Maddi’s mouth and then gone forever. Maddi sat on her haunches; her muzzle bloodied and finally let a tear slide down her fur. It was over, after ten years of hunting he was gone.

A moment later a howl rippled through the pack and in the bright sunshine of the early morning the wolf pack presented themselves in submission to their new Alpha. Even the copper coloured wolf that stood separate to the pack, next to Skathi.

Maddi let all her anguish and tiredness go in howl to rival the noise of the Cascades, echoing down the valley. Red Riding Hood was home.





Day 16 NaBloPoMo - Red Riding Hood

So I have loved fairy tales all my life, although up until fairly recently I had only really heard about the most popular ones. Until Deb sent me down the rabbit hole with this post sparking a little obsession. I now own a copy of the Joseph Jacobs book she featured, along with a few other collections of fairy or folk tales (yes they have taken over one whole shelf of a bookcase and then some). I am so glad that I found Deb and her love of fairy tales that rekindled the love in me. As an adult experiencing the tales they hold a whole new depth that I didn't understand before.

Last weekend I was treated to a sneaky peak of some photos a super talented friend of mine had taken for a commission, hence I can't share them with you :-( but you can take a look at his blog and other work here. Any way I digress, in amongst these shots was a little girl, in the forest, wearing a red coat. I'm sure you can already guess where my mind was heading, but it was helped along by the look of the photo, it had kind of a timeless quality to it. If not for the jeans and modern coat it could have been straight out of a fairy tale!

So for the second Fairy Tale Friday we are therefore off for a walk in the woods to Grandma's house:

Little Red Riding Hood is a classic fairy tale with many incarnations. From Perrault's brutal, dark and almost sexual story with no happy ending. Through the Grimm's version where the huntsman saves the day. To the 2011 film staring Amanda Seyfried, hinting at earlier versions of the tale where Red Riding Hood unwittingly cannibalises her own grandmother along with the added twist of young love. Whoever said that fairy tales were for kids needs their heads looking at!!

I have never really been sure about this tale. It's moral was all too blatant for me, Red is always a little too naive and not mentioning the general absurdity of cutting open the wolf to find Red and her grandmother perfectly unharmed after spending a good half hour plus with no access to oxygen. However, the imagery of the girl in a forest wearing a red cape and skipping off to her grandmother's cottage is so iconic, it gets under my skin and starts the cogs a turning in my mind.

Do you ever find yourself wishing the characters in a story would do something different? Does your mind ever wander off thinking what if......? Take a chance, do it! Fairy tales come from generations of story tellers telling and re-telling their tales. I hurts my brain sometimes to wonder how many times tales like Little Red Riding Hood changed before people like the Grimm Brothers wrote them down and preserved them. Was the tale a true story about a girl in the next village who wandered off in the forest and met an unfortunate end? Has it just morphed into this fantastical fairy tale with a happy endings because the world was (is) too full of horror that we needed to believe there are happy endings somewhere?

Just for a little side enjoyment here is a rendition of Roald Dahl's twist on the classic

Are you up for a challenge? For next Friday, take Little Red Riding Hood and make it your own. Re-tell it the way you want to, modernise it, tell the story of what happened next. You can either post it on your blog and pop the link in the comments or e-mail me your story and I will post it here next week. Go be the story teller of your clan and lets see what direction Red goes in.

Day 9 NaBloPoMo - Fairy Tale Friday

This year sees the 200 year anniversary of the publication of the Grimm Fairy Tales and to celebrate this Philip Pullman has published the Grimm Tales (which is most certainly on my Christmas list Santa!!). To celebrate this and also resurrect a much missed regular spot at Kicking Corners I am going to be dedicating Fridays to the ancient art of story telling and fairy tales.

To kick things off I have fairy taled me, I hope you like it.

"Once upon a time there was a young girl, called Aquine, whose purpose was to travel everyday to get water for her family. The road she travelled was long and ever changing, such was the nature of the land in which she lived. Most days she enjoyed the walk, although there were many occasions when the path became unexpectedly treacherous; the forest path would become dark and scary, the desert path would be intimidating, with packs of laughing hyenas flanking the path.

Often Aquine was blessed to have companions along the way; an angel provided to lift her over the troubled times, a jester to cheer her along on the days she found the travel hard, a fairy to reminder of the magic all around, the wise magus who was there to teach her in that moment or even just the fellow traveller in need of companionship too. Though there were many moments on these journeys when Aquine felt she had lost her way she never failed to deliver water back to her family. Aquine was pure of heart and kind of spirit and always welcomed her companions into her heart, accepting their companionship and teachings readily, offering what she could in return.

Mostly her companions became friends; some remained just for that journey, others she met time and time again. She came to realise each and every person she met was there for a reason and each and every twist in the path lead her to where she needed to be; be it a source of fresh water, a source of healing water or simply the road home. However, from time to time Aquine’s travelling companions turned out to be something different. Some would blatantly steal the water from her after having been seemingly so kind. Others would ask Aquine to carry their wares, along with her own load, for most of the journey, leaving her alone to struggle on when the additional weight left her lying by the road too tired to continue one. Occasionally a cunning fox would cross her path and lead her down the wrong path to suit his own needs. Each and every deception tore a little from her heart.

Being resourceful in nature she found a way to plug the holes in her heart with the left over’s from the evening candle, sealing the hole with melted wax enabling her to function the following day for the sake of her family. Pretty soon Aquine’s now adult heart was becoming more wax than heart and her husband and children begged her to ignore any travellers on her trip, telling her that she was more than capable of facing the challenges of the journey herself, reminding her, ‘we always walk in your heart where ever you go, we are all you need to see you safe! Please keep yourself to yourself.’

Aquine tried to do as her family wished however on her next journey she met a traveller she had never before seen. He was compelling and they walked and talked for the entire journey making shapes from the clouds as they went. They met many more times, almost every journey in fact; opening their hearts to each other as they walked life was grand. Aquine even began to miss him when he was not waiting for her on the path; she had always been so content to walk alone.  He opened her eyes to what she was capable of, showing her how to unlock hidden skills inside herself. Instead of wandering until she discovered a source of water she found she could predict its location, on occasion finding sources of water buried to the naked eye. However on one stormy journey, when they met, Aquine was scared for she had never seen the sky look in such turmoil. He offered to walk with her and see her safely across the mountain path on which they were travelling. Soon the path became more dangerous and began to crumble at the edge. She became stranded on a thin ledge with her friend already safely on the other side. He picked this moment to show his true colours and left her there alone. In that moment she became paralysed, holding the cargo of precious water. She heard her families voice ‘we are all you need’ with this she steeled herself against the driving wind and edged safely to the other side. But this deception was more than her heart could bear, the hole he made tore open old wounds too. Every time Aquine thought the hole was sealed with wax something on her next journey would be a reminder of her time with the stranger, instantly melting the wax tearing open the wound in her heart. She despaired thinking her heart would never be whole again, becoming more and more miserable, her journeys seeming longer and harder than ever before with nothing beautiful or joyous to distract her.

Sometime later, noticing the change in her, Aquine’s friends and family combined their efforts to fashion a new bandage for her heart and act as a permanent barrier to the troubles she would face. The angel plucked a feather from her wing to remind Aquine she too could fly, the jester donated a bell to remind her always of the sound of laughter, each traveller and friend provided something and the magus, using some fairy dust and the love of her family bound the items around her heart, binding it forever in happiness and love, protecting it from further damaged.

Aquine’s heart overflowed with joy as she was constantly reminded of the love bestowed upon her by her friends and family. Even though she always met fellow travellers with an open spirit and kindness whenever they left her alone she continued on with the confidence only the love of those close can give you. And they all lived happily ever after."

 

So what is your favourite fairy tale? You never know it might get featured in this spot ;-)

 

Today's shout out goes to Masked Mum, she is a talented mum and hard worker who insists on never growing up, a lady after my own heart!!