(In the spirit of aristocratic ladies of bygone days and to sing the praises of my man, I offer you a fairy tale of my own devising, as a Hime Month Treat. Yes, it's a bit of shameless self-indulgence, but tomorrow's post will explain why.)
The Ogre and The Princess
A Slightly Shady Fairy Tale
By Brenna Beattie, Comtesse d'Alouet
Once upon a time, in a very dark and chilly cave beneath the forest, there lived an ogre. His hair was never cut, his teeth were sharp and his temper was so tremendously violent, thunderstorms would get distracted and come to play "lightning darts" around him when he roared. This unfortunate trait made him difficult to befriend and to live with, but the few forest elves and gypsies who could tolerate his irritability found him a stalwart, if reclusive friend. There were also the cats. Every stray cat in the kingdom knew they could come to him for a gentle pat and a bowl of chicken, even a chat if they so wished. But, being cats, they didn't linger much.
He knew princesses. Oh, yes, he knew them. "Bothersome beasts," he'd grumble, as he caught the lightning and bottled it for the fairy queen, "All sunshine and daisies and not a brain in their heads. Always getting lost, always screaming when you ask if they've lost their way, and forever trampling a soul's fairy rings. Not to speak of the princes they drag in here, and the shepherd boys and the knights and, worst of all, those seventh sons of seventh sons! They stab and they poke and they shout and they steal!" He'd never met a princess he could stand, though certainly he'd tried, and had admired some of them, the quiet ones with dark hair and shy ways. But, he always wound up disappointed when he tried to meet them.
One evening, when he was out gathering lightning with the braver of his forest elf neighbors, he chanced to see something flitting through the trees by the lake where the mermaids played. Curious, he came closer for a look. It was a girl, with long dark hair and shining eyes, playing with the owls and bats that came out in the dark of night. He would have stopped her to chat, but he noticed the glimmer of a crown in her hair and pearls in her earlobes and decided that he wasn't going to go looking to be screamed at.
"Who was that princess?" he rumbled to an elf with raven wings.
"That one?" said the elf, "She's Princess Marie-Branwen. Her father's a merman king, or maybe a selkie duke, but her mother's a lampad, the nymphs that live in the dark places of the world."
"I've never seen her before," mused the Ogre, "And where's her prince?"
"She lives half of the year by the sea with her papa," said a nosey little pixie, "but, in autumn and winter, she comes to the woods above the caves to hunt with her mother. She hasn't got a prince. Her mother won't have them snooping underground and her father won't have them muddying his waters."
The Ogre returned the next night with the elves, hoping to see her. There she was again, dressed in brilliant colors like sunset and autumn and playing marbles with pearls alongside fairy babies. He could see now that she was a little different. Her crown was set with dark, smoky gems and her pearls were all black and gray. Her gowns were embroidered not with songbirds and cherubs, but with owls and ravens. She didn't have a golden ball or a wand, but she carried a little mirror made of smoked silver and a little key made of sea glass on her belt. She smiled like the crescent moon and she laughed like a waterbird in the night, and the one prince foolish enough to wander into the glen that late at night fled when he heard her laugh. The Ogre felt a funny little tingling in his chest when she did and this was new. So new, he was a little frightened, so the Ogre lumbered home to hope that it would go away.
But, it didn't go away. The Ogre was very confused. Not only was there a funny tingle in his heart, but he felt like he'd swallowed a bucket of pixies and he couldn't stop thinking of long dark hair and black pearls washed bright by the sea. This continued long into the winter, when the lampades played in the snow and hunted in their fur habits of black, gray and white. It grew every day until, at last, the Ogre was quite angry. He roared and snarled and snarled and roared, until the snow shook and shivered down from the trees and a very confused prince came to the forest seeking the dragon making such a fuss. When he found the Ogre, the Ogre lifted him off his feet with one mighty paw and roared full in his face.
"How did you do it?" the Ogre screamed, "Did you put something in my food? Did you drip it in my ear? Tell me or I'll rip you to bits!"
"I didn't do anything!" said the Prince, "I rather like ogres, actually!"
"Then, why am I sick all the time?" the Ogre demanded, "I feel tingly and tickly and fuzzy and fluffy and all I can think of are pearls and dark hair!"
The Prince (whose name was, typically, Charming) had a Princess, with hair the color of carrots and a grin like a jack-o'-lantern, and thinking of her and how he'd promised to be home in time for supper gave him an idea. "Why, Master Ogre," said the Prince, "You haven't been poisoned! You're Starstruck!"
"Starstruck?" The Ogre scratched his fuzzy head. "I've heard of being Elfshot and Mummyrotten, but what the dickens is Starstruck?"
He set the Prince down and the Prince sat down on a rock to explain. "Sometimes, the stars hit just the right point in the sky and over your bed, and they twinkle just so. It leaves a little seed in your heart, and then one day, you see something that sparkles and flashes just right. All that light mixes together and--POW--you're starstruck!"
"Is it fatal?" the Ogre worried aloud.
"Not usually," said the Prince, "but, it's rather inconvenient. It makes your head light and fluffy and you can't think or sleep right."
"I have to put a stop to this!" the Ogre said firmly, "What do I do?"
"I'm not sure," said the Prince, "but my Princess, Jane, would know. Let me go and I'll be back tomorrow and we'll tell you!"
"Isn't there a faster option?" asked the Ogre.
"Well... You might try drinking something warm and going to bed early."
The Ogre thought this was a silly idea, but he lumbered off to bed, leaving the Prince to run home to his Princess and ask her advice.
Princess Jane listened to his story, while she dished up soup and hot sandwiches, and came up with a plan. She sent a message to her wicked stepsisters, who'd been turned into dragons for their villainy and had learned their lesson. One was still happily a dragon, but the other had a successful business as a witch for hire (fairy-godmother by appointment). The next day, they went to the Ogre and Princess Jane introduced herself.
The Ogre had not slept well and was rather grumpy, so he merely squinted at Jane and grumbled, "You're a funny-looking princess."
"Not all princesses have hair like sunshine and smile like roses," said Jane mildly. The Ogre groaned. That made things worse and now he was thinking of brown eyes and crescent moon smiles.
"What do I do?" he moaned.
"Go find the thing that started the feeling and introduce yourself, then, go talk to the dragon Matilda, who lives in the cave by the sea. She'll know how to make it stop."
The Ogre thanked Princess Jane and hurried off, eager to stop feeling odd. He found the lampades eating lunch and skating on the frozen lake. Princess Marie-Branwen was there, with snowflakes in her hair and a fluffy black fur ruff that framed her face just right.
"Hope I find you well, Your Highness," said the Ogre gruffly.
"Good afternoon, Master Ogre," said the Princess warmly, "You look a little pink in the cheeks. Are you well?"
"I'm starstruck," the Ogre muttered, "There's nothing for it but a trip to the shore to see Dragon Matilda."
"You could walk along with me, if you like," said Marie-Branwen shyly, "I'll have to go soon myself."
So, together, they walked to the shore as the trees budded pink and white with the spring. They talked a little as they went and the Ogre found that the Princess wasn't too fond of bright sunlight or hot days and rather liked long hair on a male. He confessed that he loved cats and wasn't much interested in blond haired girls. By the time, they reached the sea, the Ogre was shocked to find that his symptoms were worse, especially after she left him at the mouth of Dragon Matilda's cave. But, the Ogre was no fool. He forced himself to be respectful as he approached and bowed to the dragon and told her of his trouble.
"...And it's gotten worse!" said the Ogre, "I can't stop thinking about black fur and stars in the sky! Please, Dragon Matilda, what do I do?"
"The trouble is," said the dragon, silvery smoke curling from her nose, "that you aren't starstruck at all. You're twitterpated. Lovebirds have been singing somewhere near you and the music has infected your mind and your heart. I can fix starstruck, but twitterpated is another matter. Go and find the Princess Marie-Branwen and ask her for the smoky mirror on her belt. Stare in it until you can see three things about you that are noble and good, then go to see the Sorceress Belinda."
So, the Ogre went to the bottom of the ocean where Princess Marie-Branwen danced with the other mermaids and asked to borrow her mirror. She gave it to him with a blush and a smile and he went and sat on the rocks on the beach, staring and staring. True, he wasn't an ugly ogre and he wasn't the meanest ogre that had ever lived. But, what was noble and good about him? Well, his hair was soft, that was good, right? And he was nice to animals, when they were nice to him. And, he supposed that he was helpful enough if you didn't scream bloody murder at him.
Try as he might, he could think of nothing better about himself. He brought back the mirror and received another invitation to walk with the Princess. As the leaves turned red and amber and gold, they strolled back to the woods, arm in arm and then the Ogre set off alone for the mountain where Sorceress Belinda lived. To his complete outrage, he was worse than before. But, he forced himself to be respectful again as he told the Sorceress of his troubles.
"You aren't starstruck, you aren't twitterpated, you're in love, you silly ogre!" the sorceress laughed, "And you've only just missed Princess Marie-Branwen, who came to say the very same things! If you hurry you can catch her and tell her!"
The Ogre was very surprised, but asked, "If I do, will I be able to have a little peace?"
"A little, yes," said the sorceress, "But, love isn't always easy or peaceful. Sometimes, you may fight, or fear, or cry, or get angry. You have to work very hard, and sometimes, the working isn't enough. Sometimes, love doesn't last. But, I think it will last long enough. Now, go and catch your princess!"
And so the Ogre went and caught the Princess and told her how she had hair like a black pearl and a smile like a mirror, and she told him how he had hair like a rabbit's back and eyes like lightning. If it wasn't the most romantic courtship in the world, it was the most successful and, though they haven't always been happy and "ever after" remains to be seen, they are quite content in their little chilly cave and should still be for quite some time!
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