Fairy Tales

She was a tomboy, never refused it, but she always listened to good and interesting stories, whenever she could, regardless where they were, in the wild forest or a warm hut. She loved listening to the elders as they told their stories on their rusty, jet somehow cheerful voice. They could fly her to the past, to the enchanted forest, into a castle, or a war, just by some well chosen word, turn her into a warrior, a princess, or the third son of any poor old couple. She loved it, she loved them, and she felt as she could just sit there and listen to them for the end of time.
But History had something else for them. So as the fire went out and darkness overtook everything they went to sleep, and waited a day ore more, until the elders continued their tales.

When she was introduced to the royal house, as the wife of Roderich she felt herself lost. No, that's not really correct. She felt 'himself' lost forever. And she was right. But there was a tiny ray of light, a helping hand so she wouldn't be so lost. Even if they were royals, they still hade some tale to tell, and she was more than glad for them. Even if they were flat, and unkind for her taste, so much elegance and rigidness… But they were tales at least. And she felt as if they would let her know one more little secret about her husband. Something that cannot be expressed in other ways.

As time past, she found more and more tales from all around the world. She was curious. Were 3-7-14-21 headed dragons only in her tales, or they were well known just forgotten? Why fairies never appeared as evil characters in other stories? Why witches have to be old and ugly? She had hundreds of questions, and slowly started to write down her own fairly tales.

She admired Andersen and really enjoyed whenever she heard on of the Grimm Brothers stories. She thought she would cry from laughing whenever Feliciano told her one Italian fairy tale, their style was adorable and full with energy. Later, she read some from the far east, and suddenly remembered those strange tales, Sadik told her centuries ago. Slowly but surely she formed her own style.

It was a cold and lovely autumn afternoon and she sat outside a café shop, reading a book, drinking her warm coffee. She was waiting for Feliks, and don't want to waste the precious time she decided to read over one of her stories. They were bittersweet just like Andersen, cheerful as the Italians and unique as herself. It was one of her best, so far: Lázár Ervin. His tales were exactly what she loved and asked for. He was a true magician, as his daughter said. She was proud of him. Ervin wrote for children, but told more to the parents. And he wrote his tales in those dark times, when even religion was a crime against the government. She was glad for him, just as for the others. But He was special. He could speak like no one else, he could use her words, Her language as no one, and she thought that this time she will show something beautiful to the world.

- Lizzy! How you doing, girl?

- Feliks, I'm great, and you?

- Awful Darling, awful! This weather wears me out like an ugly dress from the past. Did I see right? You were reading something…

- Oh yes. I wanted to show you, I'm curious what do you think.

She handled over the book, and waited a little. Her friend was one of those odd countries who learned her language… At least tried it.

- So? What do you think?

- Hmmm… I'm not sure. It's nice and all, but. Well it would be hard to translate it to the others. And some parts would never be the same… This is a though story, never the last.

- Oh… I see.

Feliks saw how sadness took over his friend's soul and mind, and tried to cheer her up, but failed…

- Look on the bright side! They can never read it, but neither criticize it!

- . . . thanks…?

- I mean, they wouldn't understand anyway! It's just not their style. Who would want to tell a bedtime story to their kids in which the Witch is the good one, but gets her punishment anyway? That's too dark for a little kid…

- . . .

- Oh My Lizzy, don't take me serious! It's magnificent, but not for kids. You have to agree with that at least.

- No. It's telling the truth, this story don't want to keep children in unreal dreams.

- You want to break their free imagination and hope of the beautiful happy endings.

- They see it everywhere! Even if they don't want to! TV and all the movies are full with that pink and white happy-endings!

- And it's all right. It's as it always was. This story is frightening. And depressive.

- Because Andersen is not. The old fairy tales are the same as what Disney creates from them. You cannot tell me that I'm wrong, and you know it.

- You may have point in that, but this is… Listen carefully Lizzy. I know you from a very long time, and I saw you changing. You are more than inclinable to depression, and stories like these won't help you.

- You know nothing about how it helps me!

- Oh yeah? Then would you please tell me what could a single little song do with you? You tried to kill yourself! And not just once! Lizzy, I'm your Friend!

She froze, and Feliks huffed.

- See?

- . . . no.

- You were mad at me. Your best friend! How could you?

- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just… - she looked at him as if the blonde was her last hope, she was pleading for understanding. He felt like she wanted to catch him with her eyes, but then a sad shadow covered her, and she gave up.- Never mind.

She closed the book, and put it back to her bag, forming a gloomy smile, as if she was saying goodbye, then took a deep breath. And a next one.

She didn't looked at him. He was too confused to do anything, afraid he would broke her feeling even more.

After one long and heavy silenced minute she snapped up her head smiling as if nothing had happened.

- So… How about a shopping, since we are here right next to the mall?

A.N: Lázár Ervin was a great writer, lived from 1936 to 2006. He wrote about 19 books full with child stories, won a bunch of awards and lived a life almost as magical as his tales. Personally He is on of my favorite writer in Hungarian literature, and thinking about writing a Hetalia adaptation for one of his bittersweet tales, just to show you something :) I hope now you are interested a little, and that I won't translate it too horribly... :) And I wrote His name purposely backwards for you. I'm not sure why, I just don't like to change the order in our names so it fits the english rules... I just... don't. Sorry about any wrong spelling or grammatical mistake too :)