Once upon a time, there was a king and queen who ruled over a grand kingdom. The queen had willingly stepped forward to marry this king, to ensure a treaty between the two realms. The king, though his face looked kind and his words honeyed, had a heart that was as cold as iron.
The queen very much disliked her husband. There was a firm clench of her teeth when he spoke, his poisoned words slithering through the air. But she refused to let her face betray her true thoughts, for she would serve out this sentence for the good of her realm.
Until the day he brought Talia.
Talia was a young princess, just shy of fourteen years. She could have been mistaken for the king and queen's daughter. She stood poised and elegant in the throne room, only the queen noticing the tremble of her hands.
The king looked upon the princess with a sort of hungry glee and leaned to speak to his wife.
"We cannot have children, so I called for a young consort."
"Consort?" The queen barely managed to stop the hiss.
"Yes, i believe she will be more than suitable. We'll have heirs, twins, if we're lucky."
The queen nodded, the arms of her throne creaking under her grip.
Talia was sent to be washed and dressed for the evening.
Before the princess could be sent to the king, the queen visited her chambers.
"My child," she said to the princess, "I see the fear in your heart, and I shall buy you time."
Talia held back her tears and curtsied to the queen.
"My greatest gratitude, your majesty."
The queen heard the sob in her voice at the last word.
"If you would, princess, you are free to call me mother."
When dinner was ready that evening, the queen took the king's dish and let silver droplets fall into the meal.
The king complained of aches and retired for the night.
Over time the king felt as though his body was overcome by demons. His legs would become filled with pins, needles jabbing into his feet and mouth.
Talia would quietly pick at her meal in the evening, staring at the king as if he would become flushed with health and devour her.
The servants talked of witchcraft.
Only the queen would look unmoved.
It ended on the day the king fell into his throne, never to rise again.
The servants gladly fled at the queen's orders, as the king's ghastly appearance was enough incentive to run.
Talia was allowed to return to her own kingdom, but refused.
"Mother, how can I go back to a place that sent me here?" she asked, her eyes carrying too many burdens for a girl her age.
The queen looked upon her with pity and allowed the princess to see the airy wings hidden beneath her robes.
"If you shall wish, child, you will sleep, only to awaken when a worthy soul touches the hand of a spinning wheel."
Talia, her expression filled with wonder, readily agreed.
The queen lead Talia to her chambers and let her lay upon the bed. The queen kissed Talia's forehead and the princess fell into an enchanted sleep.
One hundred years later, a falcon fled into the old castle, and the bird's prince followed it. The prince, in his search of the bird, found a chamber untouched by time.
There was a girl sleeping in the bed, an old spinning wheel close by. The prince found himself drawn to the spinning wheel, and his finger grazed over the needle. It left a single drop of blood.
The princess awoke and the spinning wheel fell into dust.
Many years later, Talia became a queen and the prince a king. Their firstborn arrived and all of the kingdom was invited to the christening, even the fae thought to be long dead.
Talia, settling her child into the basket in the throne room, gasped when she recognized a face in the crowd.
"Mother."
A/N: Originally posted on Ao3 on October 20th 2016.
Inspiration from writing prompt: Rewrite a classic fairy tale by telling it backwards. The end is now the beginning.
Ever read Sun, Moon and Talia? That king is the absolute worst and I hate him.