Notes: Originally written for a Weasley Fuh-Q Fest. The prompt was to rewrite a fairy tale. Written in 2003.
The Six Swans
Once upon a time there lived a king with his queen in a small kingdom that was very happy, though a bit shabby around the edges. The king and queen were very nearly as happy as two mortals may be, save that they remained childless for a very long time. At length, however, their prayers for children were answered, and the queen bore six sons and a daughter. The king delighted greatly in his children, and the kingdom rejoiced to have six fine princes and a princess to dote upon. The joy in the princess' birth was tempered with sorrow, for the good queen was weak and died soon after her daughter's birth.
The king grieved for his dear wife and swore never to marry again, and instead busied himself with the running of his kingdom and the raising of his children. Of the two tasks, sometimes it seemed to the king that it was a thousand times easier to rule a country than it was to bring order to the affairs of six princes and one princess, for all of his children were active and full of high spirits. The siblings, though they loved each other very much, did not let their affection bar them from playing pranks and tricks upon each other, nor from the occasional argument. The royal palace rang with shouts and laughter from morning until night.
Little Princess Ginny grew up as both an eternal nuisance to her brothers, and their favorite pet. They taught her many things not normal to the schooling of a princess, from how to climb trees without fear, and where to find the dens of foxes and the nests of birds, to how to ride a horse without a saddle and bridle and how to fight just a little bit dirty. The seven of them grew up together, running and playing together, confident in their father's love for them. Indeed, the king was very proud of his children, and knew that their mother the queen smiled down upon them from heaven.
Now, the king was fond of hunting, and there came a day when he went out to hunt, but became separated from his huntsmen and wandered lost within the forest. He walked through the trackless forest for a long time, sick at heart for the worry his children must be experiencing on his behalf, until he came upon a cottage hidden deep within the forest. An old woman, stooped with age, emerged to greet the king, and though his words to her were kindly, he was wary of her. He could see the malice sparkling at the backs of her eyes, and knew that she was a witch.
"Your Majesty," said the witch, for she could tell that this was a king before here, "you are lost in these woods, and will die of hunger before you ever find your way home."
The king nodded. "That is true, good woman," he said, politely, for it is never wise to anger a witch. "Do you know the way out of this forest?"
She stroked her chin. "That I do know, Your Majesty, but I will only tell you the way for a price."
"I am a king, good woman, and will pay any price that you ask," the king replied, for he was anxious to return to his children.
The witch's eyes grew bright. "Ah, Your Majesty, it is only a small thing that I ask. I have a daughter who is lovely to behold, but here in the forest no man will see her and desire her hand."
"I will bring her to my court, and she will have her pick of suitors," the king promised.
The witch held up a finger. "I was not finished, Your Majesty. I perceive that you are unmarried. Marry my daughter, and I will show you the way out of this forest."
The king was aghast. "Good woman, I have sworn an oath that I will never marry again," he protested.
"Very well, then. Starve here in this forest, and let the moss grow over your bones." The old witch turned and began to hobble back inside her cottage.
The king thought of his children, and his heart grew heavy. "Wait," he said, bowing his head. "I will accept your offer. I will marry your daughter."
The witch cackled in glee, and called her daughter forth from the cottage. It was true; the girl was lovely to behold, but the king was sick to his heart and only saw the craftiness in her eyes and the sharpness of her white teeth. But he was a king, and bowed to her. "Lady," he said, taking the ring from his finger and placing it on her hand. "Permit me a month's time to prepare our wedding, and then come to me."
His bride curtsied, smiling a secret smile, and the old witch pointed out a path to the king that would take him home. The king followed the path, and soon found himself returned to his own realm. His children greeted him with joy upon his arrival, and for the first time it occurred to the king to fear for their safety.
He called the three elder princes to his study, for they were nearly men grown, and clever besides, and explained the problem to them. His sons were shocked by the bargain their father had been forced to make, and clearly understood his concerns. Charlie, who was more at home out of doors than in, said, "Father, there is a house that I know of that no one has lived in for many years. It is deep within the forest, and we could go there to stay."
"That is a good idea," the king told him, "but the witch and her daughter are familiar with the forest, and I'm afraid they might find you."
"Not easily," Charlie said. "I only found it by accident, you know."
Then Percy spoke. "I could make it even more difficult to find," he said, for he was proficient in the ways of magic.
"Not too difficult, or Dad won't be able to find us in order to visit us," Bill warned him.
Percy waved a hand. "I'll make a special charm just for Father," he said. "And only someone using the charm will be able to find us."
The king thought over the plan, and could find no fault with it, and so he dispatched his beloved children to the ramshackle house hidden away in the forest for their safety. In due time, his bride arrived and became queen. The king cared very little for her company, and slipped away often to visit his beloved children. His absences grew so frequent that his new queen became suspicious, and bribed a servant to tell her whither the king went so many times.
"Your Highness," the false servant told her, "it is said that the king visits his children, whom he has hidden away."
"Children?" the queen asked, already beginning to form a plot. "How many?"
"Six princes and a princess, Your Highness," the servant told her. "The king has hidden them so well that it is said that only magic can find them."
"Is that so?" the queen murmured, and dismissed the servant. She thought a little while, and then called for several skeins of fine white silk, which she wove into cloth and sewed into seven shirts. As she worked with the shirts, she murmured charms under her breath, for the queen had learned witchcraft at her mother's knee. When she finished the shirts, she called for a skein of red cotton thread, which she rolled into a ball with many muttered words of magic. At last, content with these preparations, the queen set aside the shirts and the ball of thread, and waited for her husband to go hunting.
This he did at last, and the queen no sooner saw him gone than she took out the shirts and her ball of thread, and went to the forest. She set the ball of yarn down, and it immediately began to unroll itself, following the hidden path to the house of the princes and princess. The wicked witch-queen followed, with the seven shirts draped over one arm. At last she came to the clearing where the house stood, where the seven siblings were tumbling and wrestling with each other. Hearing the approaching footsteps, the brothers shouted for joy, rushing to meet their father. Only Ginny held back, for she remembered that her father had proposed to hunt on this day. It was good that she held back, for no sooner did the witch-queen catch sight of the crowd of princes than she cast the shirts over them, and they were turned into swans. The six swans beat their wings, and flew away in a cloud of white feathers.
Ginny, hidden and watching, was horrified by this, and stayed crouching amid the bushes for a long time after the wicked queen, content that any children she bore to the king would not be displaced by the children of his previous marriage, followed her ball of cotton back out of the forest. At last, as the sun began to set, the princess went to the place where her brothers had been transformed, and found white feathers scattered about, and a lone white shirt amidst them. Ginny gathered up the feathers, but was too sensible to touch the shirt, and left it lying in the dust. Then she returned to the empty house, and cried a bit for her missing brothers, before thinking what she should do next. She resolved to wait for her father's next visit before doing anything else.
In a few days' time, the king slipped away to visit his children, while his queen smiled a secret smile. The king came to the hidden house, only to be greeted by his saddened daughter, who showed him the feathers and the shirt in the dust. The king was furious, and fearful for his daughter's safety. He begged her to return home with him, so that they could cast out the wicked queen, but Ginny shook her head. "No, Father," she said. "You return and punish my wicked step-mother. I shall search for my brothers. There may be a way that I can save them."
Nothing the king said or did swayed Ginny's determination, and at last they parted tearfully. The king made her promise to return to him someday, and Ginny swore she would, with her brothers in tow. Then the king returned to his court, where he denounced the wicked queen and her mother and banished them from his kingdom.
Ginny, meanwhile, packed provisions for herself and set out, wandering far and wide and seeking always any news of six swans. She was a good and kind girl, and many people were willing to help the earnest child, though none could give her the news she longed for. At last she came to a town by the sea, where an old fisherman who liked to warm his bones in the morning sun told her a strange tale. "I hear tell," he said, "that there's a place a little ways up the coast where there's a little cove and a cottage. Folks say no one lives there, but there's always six places set at the table, and six beds made up. Mebbe that's what you're looking for, missy."
Ginny thanked the old man, and journeyed up the coast to find the cove and its cottage, for this was the most solid clue she had yet found. After a time, the princess found the place just as it had been described to her, and though no one was about, she sat down on the doorstep to wait.
Evening came, and as dusk approached, she saw six swans come flying over the sea. They landed on the beach, and as the sun set, they picked off each other's feathers, and cast off their swan skins, and became her brothers, grown taller and older. Ginny shrieked with joy, and ran to meet them. They were astonished to see her, and the seven passed several minutes in a joyful reunion.
"How is it that you have your own forms?" Ginny asked, when they had become calm again.
"It's only temporary," said Fred, rueful.
"We get rid of the damn feathers for a half hour each evening at sun-down, but when the time's up, we turn back into birds and fly away," George grumbled.
"It's horrible, Gin. Do you know what swans eat?" Ron added, grimacing. "Bugs, that's what."
"Plants, too," Charlie reminded him.
"I see," Ginny frowned. "Is there any way to break this curse?"
"I have a theory," Percy said. "If someone were to spend six years in silence, never speaking or laughing or crying, all the while sewing the flowers of the starwort into six shirts for us, then the spell will be broken."
"Some theory," Bill mumbled.
"I don't make the rules of magic up, I just follow them," Percy snapped.
"I'll do it," Ginny said.
Her brothers stared at her, until Fred cleared his throat. "Ginny... it means absolute silence, you know."
"I know," she said, lifting her chin. "Why?"
"You... uh..." Charlie searched for the tactful way to say it. "You're a little talkative, sis."
Ginny folded her arms. "I can be quiet if I want to be," she said. "And I promised our father that I'd bring you home, and I mean to do it."
Before her brothers could argue, their half hour came to an end, and they changed back into swans and flew away. Ginny watched them go, feeling very alone, but shook off the mood and set about her task.
The next sunset, her brothers returned to her, only to find her sitting in the middle of a mess of starwort, busily sewing the small petals together. She did not smile or speak to them, but there was a supper laid on the table for them and a patch of starwort petals sewn together that was the size of her palm. It did not seem much against the size of her brothers, who were nearly grown men by this point, but it was a start.
Ginny's days quickly fell into a pattern of sewing and silence, and it was easy to keep her vow during the lonely daylight hours when no one was about. The half hour in the evening was the most difficult, for it was nearly impossible not to smile at the antics of the twins, nor to refrain from arguing with Percy, or reassure Ron that she was well and content to labor on their behalf. In this way, the first year passed, and she was able to lay aside the first completed shirt. The second year began, and tales began to spring up about the maiden in the cottage by the cove who never spoke nor smiled, but always sat sewing.
These tales reached the ear of the young king of the realm, who was under pressure from his people and his advisors to take a bride. The king, however, could not be pleased by any of the princesses brought to him as potential brides, for they all chattered too much and bored him with their prattle. Young King Draco, hearing of this silent, sewing maiden, thought this gift too good to be true, and sent the captain of his guard and some men to bring the girl to his castle.
So it came to pass that Ginny was hard at work on Charlie's shirt when Draco's men came to her cottage door. She did not wish to let them in, but they broke down the door and took her away to the king. The captain gathered up her bundle of sewing and the finished shirt and brought it along with Ginny.
That evening, when the brothers returned to the cottage, they were greatly distressed to find it empty. None of the seven believed that she had left of her own will, and they resolved to fly far and wide in search of her.
Meanwhile, Ginny was taken to Draco's castle, and though her grief was great at being parted from her brothers, she did not permit one tear to fall from her eyes, for even a single tear would seal their doom forever. Ladies took her and bathed her, and dressed her in a fine gown to be presented to the king. Draco held a great feast for silent Ginny, and was very pleased with her modest silence and downcast eyes. "Is it true that she does not speak, Harry?" he asked the captain who had fetched her.
"Not one word, sir," Harry told him. "She seemed mostly concerned about her sewing."
"I wish more women would stay concerned about their sewing," Draco muttered. "Very good." He raised his voice. "Let it be known that our silent guest pleases me very much," he announced. "I will marry her in a week's time."
Ginny fixed her eyes on her skirt at this announcement, and twisted it into folds between her hands, but did not say a word. Instead she thought of her sewing, safely stowed in a basket in her bedchamber, and hoped her brothers were not too worried by her absence.
Draco's court rejoiced that he was finally taking a wife, but one person besides Ginny did not participate in the festivities--the queen mother. "Draco, darling," she wheedled, "you don't know a thing about this girl or her family. She's hardly suitable, darling, hardly suitable at all."
"Be silent, Mother," Draco replied impatiently. "She keeps her mouth shut and does not stir up trouble, so I will marry her." With that he dismissed his mother and thought the discussion over. At the end of the declared week, he and Ginny were married.
The queen mother, however, continued in her dislike of her silent daughter-in-law, and sought to discredit Ginny with Draco. Ginny finished Charlie's shift and began Percy's as the third year began. At the same time, she grew large with child, for one of Draco's visits to her bed had been fruitful. She gave birth to a daughter when Percy's shirt was three-quarters finished, and the wicked queen mother took this opportunity to cause mischief. She stole into Ginny's chambers and spirited the infant princess away, and dabbed Ginny's mouth with blood. When the princess was discovered missing, the queen mother accused Ginny of killing and eating the child herself.
Draco, on the advice of his captain, dismissed this notion, for Harry believed in the innocence of the queen, and Draco trusted his opinion. The third year ended and Percy's shirt was finished. Ginny began Fred's shirt, and was working on George's shirt by the time she conceived again. This time she bore another daughter, and again the wicked queen mother played the same trick of stealing the infant and dabbing Ginny's mouth with blood.
This time, however, Ginny was awake, and watched her mother-in-law's actions from beneath her lowered eyelashes. Ginny burned with anger, but held her tongue and finished George's shirt. Again, it was Harry's intercession with Draco that spared her life, as Draco was not so much interested in daughters as he was sons anyway.
The sixth and final year of Ginny's ordeal began, and she worked day and night on Ron's shirt. Draco visited her bed on a frequent basis, being interested in getting an heir, and Ginny's stomach swelled as Ron's shirt grew. As Ron's shirt came closer to completion, Ginny was delivered of a son, the heir that Draco had so desired.
Ginny expected the queen mother's visit, and had laid her son across her knees as she worked on Ron's shirt. The queen mother hesitated as she faced Ginny's clear gaze, but took the infant prince from her knees anyway. Emboldened when Ginny said nothing, the queen mother smeared Ginny's mouth with blood and took away the child. Ginny, knowing that her time was growing short, sewed faster.
Upon the disappearance of the crown prince, even Harry's good word could not preserve Ginny. She was prosecuted and judged guilty, and sentenced to death at the stake. She sat in her prison cell the day before the execution, and came to the end of her supply of starwort. Ron's shirt was almost finished, lacking only its left sleeve, but she could not finish it. Ginny spread the shirts out, Ron's unfinished shirt with them, and despaired.
High in the wall of her cell was a tiny window that opened on the level of the ground that allowed air and light into the cell. Near sunset, Ginny heard the rustle of wings outside the window, and as the light faded, she heard Ron's voice calling down to her. "Ginny! Gin, are you in there?"
Ginny scrambled to the window, straining to reach her hand through the bars. Ron's fingers clasped hers. "The six years are over tomorrow," he whispered to her. "Do you have the shirts?"
Ginny shook her head, and held up five fingers. She fetched the sixth, unfinished shirt, and held it up for him to see.
Ron's face fell. "Well, don't worry about it," he told her. "It's close enough, right? I'm sure that it will be fine."
Ginny reached up and squeezed his hand.
"We've looked everywhere for you," Ron told her. "We were worried sick over you when you disappeared." He told her of all the places he'd seen on the quest to find her. Half an hour passed too quickly, and soon Ron changed back into a swan--"For the last time, right?"--and flew away.
After he left, Ginny gathered the shirts to her breast and waited.
She refused to let go of the shirts as the hour of her execution drew near, and Harry did not have the heart to confiscate them, so she carried them with her to the stake. Wood had been piled high around the stake, and as Ginny was led toward it, the queen mother looked on in triumph.
Suddenly six swans descended from the sky, beating off the guardsmen with their wings, and surrounding Ginny. She threw the shirts over the swans, and as the shirts settled over them, they instantly returned to their natural forms--all save Ron, who still had a swan's wing where his left arm should have been. Ginny fell into her brothers' arms, babbling her joy at seeing them again after so many years apart.
The crowd watched, amazed, until Draco raised his voice. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"Draco," Ginny said, pronouncing her husband's name for the first time. "I have been silent for the past six years to rescue my brothers from a wicked spell our evil step-mother placed upon them. Today the six years have ended, and my brothers are free... and I may tell you that I am innocent, for your mother is the one who stole away our children and accused me of devouring them."
Draco seemed stunned by this torrent of words from his heretofore silent wife, but turned to his mother. "Is it true?" he demanded.
"She is not worthy of you!" the queen mother shrieked, dancing in fury. "I did this for your own good, my son!"
"Not worthy?" laughed Fred. "Our sister is a princess, and a damned fine one too. How can that be unworthy?"
Draco signaled to Harry to take the mad queen mother away. "Find the children," he commanded Harry. He turned to Ginny, who was talking excitedly with her brothers, and winced slightly. "It seems, my queen, that we have quite a lot to discuss," he said, "starting with this--what is your name?"
"Indeed we do," Ginny said, putting her hands on her hips and staring at the king. "Starting with this: my name is Ginny, and I never wanted to marry you, you overbearing ass. What right had you to take me away from my home and make me your wife, without ever asking for my permission?"
Draco drew himself up. "I am the king," he said. "I can do whatever I want."
"Including picking out a wife who won't talk back to you, I assume." Ginny glared at him, as Harry returned with the two princesses and the crown prince. She motioned to him. "Bring me my children."
Harry hesitated between Ginny and Draco, until Bill whispered, "I wouldn't argue with her, mate."
Ginny accepted her son into her arms, as Fred and George picked up their toddler nieces. Percy, who had divined his sister's intentions very quickly, busied himself picking up a few of the scattered swan feathers, and was muttering various charms over them.
Draco, meanwhile, was wilting a bit under the heat of Ginny's fierce eyes. "You took me from my home, and married me, and forced your way into my bed, all against my will, and assumed that my silence gave you the right," she said. "I will have no more of this. Goodbye, Draco."
As she said this, Percy finished his charms, and they vanished from the sight of the astonished king and the crowd of spectators.
They reappeared many, many leagues away, in the kingdom of their aging father, who had nearly given up all hope of ever seeing his children again. His joy knew no bounds when all seven came to him in his castle, and once again the castle overflowed with laughter and the noises of a happy family. And they lived happily ever after.
the end.
Final notes: A couple of reviewers have noted that this fic diverges sharply at the end from the original fairy tale. This was on purpose. The story's a few years old now (I believe I originally wrote it in 2003 or thereabouts), but I stand by that decision. In the original fairy tale, the princess is a very passive character, despite all her hard work on her brothers' behalves. Ginny is not noticeably passive in this story, and I really can't see her standing for being abducted and married without so much as a by-your-leave. (In the original story, it smacks of non-con to me.)
The version of this fic that I posted to the Fuh-Q Fest actually did have Ginny staying in her marriage, but that was because of the rules of the Fest. It stuck in my craw, and so I rewrote the ending to be true to how I see the character, and to be true to my own values. Think of this as a fractured fairy tale, if you will.
And of course, as always, thank you for reading.