Once, quite some time ago, there was a peasant woman of an age of old with a daughter of cruelty and a daughter through another man with beauty deeper than her pretty skin. The woman's husband was an elder to her, who loved his beauty of a child more than his heart could with hold. His daughter had skin of pearls, eyes of the brightest shadows, hair of the purest ebony and a persona of gold. She was kind, clever and polite; A true lady more worthy than any man that could want a ring around her delicate, frail finger.
The girl of the elder woman was cruel, evil and spiteful to oppose her charming face. The daughter had her own way in everything, and whatever she did was right in her mother's eyes; but the poor step-daughter had a hard time. Let her do what she would, she was always blamed, and got small thanks for all the trouble she took; nothing was right, everything wrong; and yet, if the truth were known, the girl was worth her weight in gold-she was so unselfish and good-hearted.
Her days were spent weeping in the solitary confinement of her small room. The girl was alone in the cold world around her, no one to show her support in her young years of life. There was no possible way to live peacefully with her mother not blood.
The woman wanted the girl away by the means of fair or cruel, she pestered the old man everyday for him to be rid of his child with the ending words of "Send her away, old man; send her away-anywhere so that my eyes shan't be plagued any longer by the sight of her, or my ears tormented by the sound of her voice. Send her out into the fields, and let the cutting frost do for her..."
Her father followed orders in vain of him and his darling child. He wept and implored for the woman's pity; she was firm, and he dared not speak against her. So he placed his daughter in a sledge, not even daring to give her furs to keep herself warm with, and drove her out on to the bare, open fields that were pearly white with dangerous snow. He kissed her and left her, driving home as fast as he could... So that he might not witness her miserable death.
His tears were shed in pity and in vain, for he shall regret ever letting them free for his child. She would return to him soon enough as the moon began to cast light on the young beauty, barely having fifteen years of age behind her in life.
The girl watched as her father deserted her, leaving the girl to suffer from the cold as it began to slowly thaw through her. Soon, she heard the rustling of something moving swiftly through the trees surrounding her; jumping from branch to branch to get an all-round look at her.
Pulling her knees closer to her shaking form, the figure jumped down from the trees in front of the poor girl. He was dressed in clothes that looked like ice on silk, glistening in the light, a silver crown on his head with a jewel like moving water at the front, leaning in to touch his forehead. He had hair like the snow that gently brushed his thin shoulders with little icy pendants here and there to illuminate the sun that shall one day shine again on the white lands surrounding the girl. His eyes were a strange concoction of ice and deep blue; like a glass diamond to reflect any light. It appeared to her that everything about him was made to shine against the glaring sun; to give him a glow that nothing else could.
He appeared to be high of ranking; judging by his straight posture, royal appearance and powerful aura that just seemed to roll off him in huge waves. He stared down at her with hard, cold eyes that made her pull her knees further into her body; the grey, flimsy fabric rubbing against her. "Do you know who I am, dear maiden?" His tone was sharp and cut through her. "I am Father Frost; King of Winter."
"All hail to you, great King!" She spoke as loud as she could, but her tone was still gentle and soft; shaking from the cold. Fear overtook her as she remembered the legacy of Father Frost. "H- Have you come to take me?" She asked with her tone shaking; little tears clouding her vision.
Father Frost's diamond eyes soften slightly, seeing the fear and the wreck this girl was in. He walked forward till he was only an inch from her shaking form. "Maiden, are you warm? Are you warm, beautiful girl?" He asked gently, wanting to know her answer. Although he could plainly see she was close to the brink, he had to ask to see her for who she truly was. The cold exposes people, as he had learned through his years of life, and as innocent and beautiful as she appeared, she could've been dark and selfish.
Although her breath was near-frozen on her breath; she replied softly with "Quite warm, King Frost." At this, he knelt down in front of her and raised her head to meet his eyes. She noticed they were soft and his face seemed more youthful and kind.
"Truth now, sweet maiden; do you wish to be somewhere warm? To be away from this winter?" He asked her and he saw her began to say she was already warm. "I ask for only the truth, beautiful girl. Tell me."
"I am sorry to appear rude but..." Her voice was still soft and far from rude. He smiled slightly, waiting for her to admit she wanted to be warm. "I am far too cold too-" Placing a finger on her lips to silence her; he gently picked her up and walked deeper into the forest swiftly. The poor little girl shivered wildly.
"Hush, sweet maiden. You shall be warm."
They soon came upon six white horses and a sleigh; belonging to the King. He placed her gently down and swiftly wrapped her in thick, warm furs before beginning the horses to run. The young King leaned back; taking the thin bundle into his arms, rubbing her arm over the furs to give her that little bit of extra warmth. "Tell me, sweet maiden, what is your name of birth?"
"Erabella, my King..."
Before the minutes had been ten, the steeds stopped at a cosy cottage amongst the thick forest of white. The size was of a decent sort, with roses of ice lining the windows and door; running along the thatch roof and the colour was blue with smoke rising steadily from the chimney. The door was wooden with pattern ferns of tender ice coating in a thin blanket.
Erabella smiled tenderly at the comfortable house as the King opened the door; gently pushing her in with his long hand on the small of her back and closing the door softly behind them. The fire was burning brightly in the pit under the fire place, sending the smoke to rise into the air in a dark cloud. Two large chairs opposed each other on either side of the fire, awaiting two figures to sit and make simple, relaxed conversations.
They sat down – Erabella on the left, King Frost on the right – and he smiled softly at the beauty opposite him. "This is not what I expected as a King's home, O King..." Erabella began and the Frost King laughed heartedly; a deep, natural laugh. Images came to her mind as he laughed: the images of children playing in the snow, building snow structures and throwing snowballs... Laughing at all the fun they had created and the happiness as the snow fell slowly with grace.
Suddenly, hot tea and soup were placed on a tray on her small thighs. Her bright shadows flicked to the King who smile. "I do not want such a beauty to fall ill due to my doing. Please, enjoy what is in front of you." Taking a sip of her steaming tea; Erabella began to enjoy the smooth taste of the soup running across her pink tongue and sliding down her throat swiftly; warming her to the core. When she had finished, she closed her eyes and soon fell into a well earned sleep.
Opening her shadowed eyes, she saw – to her great surprise – that the young King was no longer there. Tossing her head left and right, the bun on the top of her head dancing with the movements, she tried to spot King Frost within the small living room. Filling with panic, she shot up from the chair and ran into the room with an open door, her grey eyes fearful.
There he stood in the darkened room, only the dull light of burning candles he stood. But she could make him out as if he was standing in a room full of sunlight. He was laying something out on the bed; something she could she was blue and lined with white furs. Cocking her head to the side, she gently rapped a time of three upon the wooden door; not wanting to frighten the kind King.
He turned calmly, as if he knew she would've been standing their all alone and soon he faced her with those glistening eyes. He smiled widely at Erabella; showing his two rows of teeth white as the snow he made. His face fell when he took in her clothes again; making his shake his head and pick up what was on the bed, hanging it up in a wooden wardrobe in the dark corner he seemed to fill with his glow. "Come, you'll stay her, sweet maiden, until the sun begins to rise and you need rest." He gently took her hand as her face flushed the colour of strawberries in the peak of their prime.
Awakening the next morn, she found the King already sitting by her bedside and she shot up; angry with herself for keeping him waiting. He raised his hand and she recoiled away; expecting a hard smack to follow, that's what normally followed in her life. "Please, I beg you great King, do not strike." She pleaded, his hand would hurt more than her Mother by marriage's could ever do. But this was not her life as he placed his hand so tenderly on her cheek, turning her gently to face him.
"I would never strike you; dear, sweet Erabella." His soft eyes turned harsh. "Are you informing me someone dares to strike you?" At this, the room became colder; ice traveling up the walls and she shivered, her breath fogging. The ice vanished as quickly as it came and his arms were around her; pulling her into his taller form to keep her safe. "Have no fear of me, dear maiden. I shall never bring you harm." His lips ghosted her forehead before he smiled down at her, the Sun's rays emerging through the glass windows and allowing the whole house to be in light. "Come, it's time you got out of those rags. Can't have you becoming ill."
The poor girl couldn't comprehend the gifts in front of her. The strange blue thing she had seen his with the night of last was in fact a dress. The colour of a clear sky with linings of the purest white furs to prevent the cold from striking her with it's spear. "Please, O King, say this beauty of fabric is not for the likes of me..." She asked when she remembered how to breath. The dress glittered in the sun; reflecting it's rays softly into their eyes. There was a thick shawl to match it hanging beside the wonderous material that held a hold to make sure every part of her was warm and safe from the chilling weather.
"It is most definitely for you, beautiful maiden. I'll leave while you put it on, alright?" His brow furrowed in disgust. "I am not one for staring at people whilst their clothes are being exchanged. Always struck me as strange and frankly, rather un needed..." With these words, he left the room for her to exchange her rags for the dress of luxury.
She came out with a smile and the dress hugging her figure tightly, showing off her curves as a growing woman. The blue contrasted her hair and her lightened eyes; making her stand out as completely beautiful.
Staring at the King, she noticed her was frowning at her and her smile immediately fell; her posture shrunk back and her eyes looked at her floor with stinging tears. Not knowing what he was really frowning about...
It wasn't until she felt her bun of hair being let down and her body being turned around. "Raise your head, sweet maiden, or your hair will not comply with me..." He mumbled into her ear and she slowly brought her head up at the feeling of fingers running through her soft hair. A hairbrush was soon being put through it gently and soon, small side braids were being brought back to a main braid that the rest of it had been put in. He braided the small ones into the larger and she felt him adding things along the way, which confused her greatly. "That's a great deal better, sweet Erabella. You must see for yourself how perfect you really look..."
He pulled her gently over to a mirror in a room she had not seen the night before. Her small mouth did hang open as she took in her reflection. The dress she had seen but her hair she most definitely had not. The braid would reach the bottom of her shoulder blades, only a few strands of her curly hair were still out and framing her face perfectly, the small braids had been fed through tiny gems that glared back at the sun more intensely than anything she had ever seen. The larger braid had small diamonds running down it and was held by a band of unmelting ice. "O King-"
"Jack, if you please. Jack Frost. The name given to me by my Mother. Much less formal and much more fun."
"Jack... It is a very good name. What do you mean by 'fun'?" She asked; slowly become worried. He simply laughed that unique sound yet again and filled her head with more images of all the fun you could have in snow.
"I am known for my hunger of mischief, darling girl..." He smirked dangerously at her before sending a playful wink. "Now come, you have more gifts awaiting you and I must see you home before the moon rides too high in the sky." His face turned serious, "I do not want you left to the cold night again, dear maiden."
"Erabella, if you may. If I call you by yours, you call me by mine."
"Very well." He kissed her hand, "It's wonderful to officially meet you, Erabella..." He trailed off as he did not know her last name.
"Frost." Her words moved faster than her brain and her face flushed again. This got a simple eyebrow raise and a smirk that seemed to suit him more than it should. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Erabella Frost... It suits you perfectly, lovely girl. Perhaps I should keep you for myself instead of returning you home to that wicked family of yours..."
"I wish you could keep me, I would enjoy it here quite much. I may not have a mother who cares for me or a sibling to love as my own, but, I have a father who cares deeply for me and I know he didn't want to leave me where you found me. I promise that."
"You father left you there?" His voice was dangerous low and calm with his eyes flickering with a light she did not enjoy...
Waddup ma Unicorns?
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0^0 Weasel!
