The Enchanter's Daughter
An Original Fairy Tale For My German Fairy Tales final
influenced by Swedish Folklore, with a nod to my room mate Lizz who illustrated it, but unfortunately I can't upload her beautiful illustrations.Also. Note. I have to present this tale, not only write hence the descriptions, which make it easier to remember... And I want to know Do you understand the ending? No one seems to like it but I needed a finishing hook.
Once Upon a time...
In a land of sun and snow, with the sun shining brightly over swathes of land, illuminating the blank fields of snow.
In the freezing cold harshness of winter lived a great enchanter. He was the most powerful enchanter around or so he thought until he fell in love. And when he fell in love with the most beautiful girl he had ever set eyes on, he was powerless: a thrall to her gaze. And so they married and lived happily ruling the great expanse of the North and the better part of most of the world when he found himself again powerless.
His wife, the beautiful woman, fell sick in childbirth and was deathly ill. No one knew where the illness came from. He sent envoys to all magical beings, human doctors, anyone looking for a cure. He sent the most courageous of messengers to evil himself the Great Devil of Hell. There in the gloomy depths of death, the Devil waited to take the enchanter's wife away.
And so distraught was the enchanter that when his wife died he gave no thought to anything. He was "struck with profound grief." He started to waste. But a steadfast servant reminded him of the baby. The baby that was his now, alone.
He had never thought of caring for a baby on his own. He had never heard of any other great ruler taking care of his own child before. The idea intrigued him. And after consulting with the steadfast servant, the old woman who had taken care of him as a child he hired a young peasant mother to come and nurse the child and teach him how to change its nappies, and dress it and cook the mush that babies eat before they get teeth.
And he locked the doors of his high tower; he put all his enchanter's books in the closet under the stairs and traded a lot of them for picture books.
And he taught his young daughter how to speak, and how to tell stories. He taught her how to walk and to dance, to sing, and to draw. He taught her the numbers 1 thru 9 and how to count them and what they were used for. He taught her about art and history. He taught her how to observe the stars in the endless Northern nights. He was falling in love all over again, for a gap toothed smile and an imp that would shriek when he tossed her in the air.
The girl never lacked for playmates or toys to play with.She was very popular and had a lot of friends. Some were peasants who lived in the village and others were the daughters of magicians and enchanters and other skilled magic workers. These girls would come to visit in their large,warm bird suits which enabled them to fly to the far North from their warm homes near the Nile and the Euphrates. Sometimes they come over and have tea parties but other times they would dress up in long dresses with big shiny gems and put on too much powder and rouge. Eventually though pretending to be grown up and growing up intertwine and one by one her playmates disappeared. One by one they didn't come back and when the enchanter's daughter asked why, the others would tell her that the missing girl had gotten married.
"Married?" the enchanter's daughter asked.
"Yes. To a Prince, to a hero, to a magi." was the answers. And even as she asked her Peasant Mother the question
"What is marriage?" A blond hero showed up in their village on a sunny day. And he offered for the Peasant Woman's oldest daughter. And so it was that the enchanter's daughter saw her first wedding. There in the church underneath a canopy of fine linen and spring flowers, the hero and her friend got married, with crowns of gold upon their heads and exotic food for feasting.
The enchanter's heart was worried, sick with fear that his daughter would want to get married and leave him forever. She would die like her mother, die giving birth. And so sick with fear, he locked her up in the upper part of the castle. She didn't notice too busy she was exploring the vast mysterious realms of her father's magical past. She knew he was an enchanter but she didn't realize that it had to do with awful looking skulls, and nasty looking circles drawn in blood on the ground.
But some of the stuff was fascinating and she knew she shouldn't but she took down the mysterious glowing blue goop. And after making sure it wasn't dangerous she took it out and started to play with it, like a child does with clay. From this blue stuff she crafted wee little castles, including her own, with a dark haired hero who would come to marry her. She secretly wished this in her heart and some time later, when she had grown tall and willowy, her dresses sweeping the ground a hero showed up and asked her father for her hand in marriage.
He was refused point blank.
The "No" resounded through the castle causing the princess to look up from her secret past time of playing with the blue clay. Hearing the anger in her father's voice, she quickly shoved the blue goop back in its magical vessel and quickly closed the door to her father's magical workroom. Rushing into her bedroom she hurriedly washed her hands and leapt into bed. She heard her father angrily stomping through the castle to slam the door shut to his workroom. And she not knowing what to think, for remember she knows nothing of this hero, slept in bed late the next day dreaming of a handsome Prince.
She was only awaken by the steadfast servant who brought her a glass of tea and the assurances that her father was 'very busy' and was working on some big magic. So she sat in her bed and drew a little and spent the day lounging around. Her father came in to see her about 4 o'clock, his face unshaven, his hair a wild mess and mysterious dark stains on his cream colored shirt.
"What's your favorite color?"
"Uh, blue?" responded the girl uncertainly.
"Well then what's your favorite number?"
"9?" She wondered thinking back to all those lessons, years ago.
"Well what's your favorite food?" he asked her huffily because he was getting these uncertain answers.
"Oh. It must be stuffed peacock with water chestnuts, or perhaps marzipan castles with blue coloring. Why? Are we going to have a party? We haven't had people over in a while." she said, giggling eagerly.
The enchanter, taken aback by that question, smiled awkwardly and responded
"Perhaps we might, poppet. I just wanted to make sure. But you are totally sure about the marzipan and the stuffed peacock?" The young woman nodded eagerly, hoping perhaps that she would get to have an un-birthday party, not suspecting his real plan.
And this was the enchanter's plot as I am sure you might be wondering, He wanted to make sure that the young hero loved her. He knew he couldn't keep his daughter forever, but the thought of her wasting away, pining or even worse dying almost broke his patched up heart. So he would let the hero get to know her, court her a little bit and then he would test his love for her.
The next day he had the steadfast servant, the old woman with creaky knees but nimble fingers wake up his daughter. And after thoroughly brushing her long, long hair and carefully braiding it and after dressing her in the most pretty of all her dresses, the enchanter's daughter went downstairs. There in the entrance to the great hall stood the hero. Her hero, the one she had wished for. His dark hair swept the bottoms of his ears and he held his pointed helmet in his hands nervously. He was conversely awkwardly with her father about his family, or so she gathered.
She coughed to get their attention. "Ah" said the enchanter, "this is my darling daughter."
Shecurtsied to the hero, casting down her eyes, so he couldn't see their impish twinkle.
"This my dear, is a hero, Prince.."
"Ivarr, my lady...from the Eastern Lands" he smiled at her with teeth like brilliant snow crystals.
"Astrid, please. That's what everyone calls me," She said
And her father excused himself to go work on his new spell, leaving Ivarr and Astrid to keep each other company for the day. And so Astrid asked him what he liked to do and what he liked to eat and learned all about him, so she knew him by dinner time. And he asked her all the same questions and knew her well enough by lunchtime the next day. And after many days of talking and playing games and going hunting with bows and arrows they decided to draw some pictures as Ivarr told of his brave deeds in battle and his slaying of a great snow dragon.
"It must very nice, to be a hero with all of the adventures." said Astrid as she started shading her sketch of a vase.
"It's boring to not have anyone to tell your tales to." said Ivarr, as he watched Astrid's delicate white hands wield the black charcoal so skillfully.
"Oh, but I am sure you tell tales to bunches of people,' said Astrid as she looked over at him. He was looking at her funny.
"Not really," he replied honestly.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.
"You're very beautiful,"
"Thank you," she blushed. He took her soft white hand in his larger callused one and said,
"I would like to share my stories with you forever." And she blushed even harder.
"Are you asking me to marry you?" she asked, slowly the realization of her father's erratic behavior and this hero's beautiful eyes staring at her all connecting.
"Yes. I am. Would you come to my homeland, Astrid and be my Princess?"
"I would like to, you're very wonderful..."
"I have already asked your father for your hand and he refused my suit. Would you want to come with me regardless..."
"I don't think I can. You do realize that he is a powerful enchanter, and if he wished us ill then we would really be stuck?"
The Prince sighed and absently stroked her palm, smearing the black charcoal dust over it.
"I suppose you're right, but I have never felt like this before and I don't know why I even came here but to try for your hand..."
He turned back to his sketch and calmly and very prettily wrote the words, "I Love you, Astrid the enchanter's daughter." And he signed the sketch and gave it to her; it was a very beautiful drawing of her own face.
Just then, the steadfast servant appeared telling them that her father had finally finished his spell and that they should meet him in the hall. Ivarr stood up and offered his hand to her and they went into the great hall. Her father had spent the whole entire time in the tower mailing wedding invitations and fielding the large wedding gifts into the castle without having either of them know. "Well my two lovebirds," He addressed them jovially. "How are you doing?"
The hero looked at the enchanter and said, "She refuses to marry me unless you give your blessing and even then..."
"Ah. Good girl." said the enchanter nodding approvingly. "But it must be difficult if you are in love with him," said the enchanter, staring at his daughter who nodded.
"It kind of hurts, like when you drink too much tea or over eat at dinner." She smiled, slightly.
"Speaking of dinner," said the steadfast servant, barreling into the hall with a large tray of dishes. "You must go and clean up and you, young missy go wash those hands and You Princeling Ivarr, help an old woman set the table," which they all went off to do. The Enchanter was delighted that the Princeling was such a good match for his daughter. They really were in love and he was sure that the Prince would pass his test or he would have a very bad memory indeed. The steadfast servant, who had chaperoned those weeks, was very happy with the Princeling who always obliged her and helped her set the table or do whatever else needed doing.
The only disagreeable thing to the match was that their darling would have to move away to the Eastern lands. But the Enchanter had even thought of that, making Astrid a swan feather coat so she could come back north. And when they went back to the dining room, the Enchanter was carrying a beautiful coat.
"Prince Ivarr before I allow you my daughter's hand in marriage, what is her favorite color?"
"Is it blue?" he asked, remembering her telling him this on the first day they met.
"Good, and what is her favorite food?"
"Marzipan castles and she has another one which is peacock with chestnuts."
"Very Well, done but final question. What is her favorite number?"
"Number? Well I don't think we talked very much about numbers but I would say nine. "
"Correct. Now you may ask my daughter for her hand in marriage." answered the enchanter. And with that Astrid took Ivarr's hand and kissed him. Breaking the kiss Ivarr smiled.
"Is that the answer?" he asked Astrid who giggled and nodded.
And indeed they did have an un-birthday party, they had a wedding feast because the steadfast servant brought out a peacock and some blue colored marzipan castles. Several of Astrid's childhood friends showed up and so did many of the hero's family.
Now a question that is always asked before the end of the tale, the one I have had to ask the Princess time and again is why is her favorite number nine? And she always smiles at me looking up from playing with the magical blue goop and says that it's because it's the number before the end. So that must be the end of the tale, then my dear. There was a wedding feast with everyone they knew attending and it had roasted peacock and marzipan castles. And the hero and the enchanter's daughter lived happily, visiting the Far north in the Spring and Summer. And childbed sickness has mysteriously disappeared thanks to the Enchanter's funding research and Ivarr and Astrid have three healthy children, whom they adore.