The Sting of a Spinning Wheel
Disclaimer- I do not own fairy-tales, but I do own the plot of this story.
A/N- What if Sleeping Beauty's "curse" was really a blessing in disguise? A one-shot about the curse saving Sleeping Beauty told by her cunning, determined mother, a queen.
Our castle was surrounded on all sides by the invading army, and our own defenders had dwindled to a handful of men who could barely keep the enemy from advancing. My husband paced back and forth through the throne room, tears streaming freely down his face while a survivor of the attack on the town recounted grisly stories from the battle to the few remaining courtiers and servants.
The invading dictator had been cruel and ruthless in his attack on our country, and neither men, women, elderly or even infants had been spared. He had declared that my husband, my daughter, and I were to be killed, but that he would spare our servants once we were dead. Still, I did not think once of my own fate. My daughter, a girl of fifteen years, was the only person on my mind.
Imagining what might become of her made me nauseous. As I watched my once composed husband sob so openly, I stomped my slipper in quiet determination. I would save my daughter.
Although it is not important to this story, my name is Kilorai Annil Mersentien, and I am the wife of a king, the queen of a country, and the mother of a princess. My daughter's name, Parile, is not important either because she was better known to the following generations as Sleeping Beauty.
Then and there, I began to formulate a plan, and it involved a spinning wheel, and a curse that I once thought terrible. The day of the fairy's spell was imprinted on my mind in vivid color. After all, I relived it every time I looked at my daughter, but now, the enchantment did not seem so horrible.
A week after Parile's birth, we held the customary baptism at which the fairies of the kingdom gave gifts to the royal child. The fairies endowed my baby with flawless skin, a sharp memory, a quick tongue, a vivid imagination and the gift of noble heart.
Then, the last fairy stood before the crib and held up her arms for silence. She spoke in a clear, firm voice.
"I have a gift for the Princess Parile. Before she turns sixteen years of age, she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and fall into a deep, enchanted slumber. The Princess will sleep untouched by any human or by time for one hundred years, until no one remains from her own era, and then she will be woken by her true love's kiss."
She touched her hand to Parile's forehead with those words.
While the fairy spoke, I was rooted to my seat in horror, but the silence that followed broke my trance. Parile, our heir and my precious daughter, would be taken from me before sixteen! I came to my feet in rage and ran to scoop my baby up into my arms.
"How dare you! How dare you curse my daughter like that! You witch! You promised a gift, but then you curse my baby!" I spat, livid and trembling with fury.
The Fairy lifted her hands, as if to convey her innocence.
"Your majesty, I do not wish to separate you from your daughter, but it must be done. The enchantment is not a curse. It is a gift."
"Sorcerer! Enchantress! Evil, vile, wicked demon!"
After I ran her out of the palace, she was never seen again in our kingdom.
Naturally, my first reaction was to ban spinning wheels in our lands, but then where would our clothes come from? So, we had a chamber dug underneath the castle, in which all the spinning wheels of the kingdom were to be kept, and the only door in or out was located in my own living quarters. The rest of the spinning wheels were burned, and the penalty was five years in prison for anyone caught with an illegal one.
Never had I even considered that Parile might be taken from me by an evil conqueror, and not by the fated sting of a spinning wheel. Now, when she was fifteen, our kingdom was attacked, and we were cursed to die at the hands of the conquering king. He had taken over his own country by force and now coveted our own lands. The residents of the castle had taken refuge in the dungeon, the lowest and innermost part of our stronghold. My husband and I were only waiting for him to break through our defenses, but the atmosphere of dread and terror threatened to suffocate me before the conqueror could.
I jerked up from my throne, lost in thought, and strode to the balcony. The terrace was too high up for the bows and arrows of the invading army, so I threw the doors open with enough force to send them crashing into the stone wall. Below me and as far as I could see before the forest began, the enemy's army milled about on the ground. They were biding their time, I realized, and I bitterly glared at them with a fierce hatred that turned to triumph. Parile might yet be saved by the very curse we had so dreaded!
I gloated a minute more and swept back into the throne room, my chin held high in a regal queenly posture that could intimidate any courtier or servant. I chanted the words of the curse that I had memorized perfectly out loud for all present to hear.
"Before she turns sixteen years of age, she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and fall into a deep, enchanted slumber. The Princess will sleep untouched by any human or by time for one hundred years, until no one remains from her own time-period, and then she will be woken by her true love's kiss."
The room was stirred out of their dread by the words. All the courtiers and servants adored the Princess, and she had often used that to her advantage as a mischievous child. My husband turned to me, black eyes glittering darkly. His sharp intake of breath was audible throughout the whole room, and I smiled grimly at his understanding before explaining to the rest.
"We will prick Parile's finger on a spinning wheel so that she falls into the enchanted sleep and remains untouched by that monster who is invading our land!"
"It will work!" my husband murmured fervently, as if commanding fate to obey him. "It will! It will! It will!"
I was convinced it could save Parile. The fairy had spoken truly, after all, and the enchantment was not a curse, but a gift, a blessing in disguise. I felt bit of guilt because of my ingratitude towards the fairy, but I shrugged it off in order to carry out my plan.
I had already decided on the place for her one hundred-year slumber. The attic in the tower had been her favorite room to play in as a little girl, and I ordered servants to carry a mattress of straw and a spinning wheel up. She would not need more than that.
Parile came upon us while they were entering the winding stair with the mattress, even though she was supposed to be taking shelter the dungeon. She cast one look at the servants, and her brow was marred slightly by a frown.
"What are you doing, mother? The army is at our doorstep, and yet you are worrying about mattresses!"
She had never been afraid to speak her thoughts, and I could see the tension in her features. Parile's face was pale, but not from the lack of food or drink. A nervous sweat glistened on her upper lip, and her eyes held a wary look. The war had taken a visible toll on my daughter, but then again, who was not affected by it? She knew of the conqueror's death threat. I beckoned her to my side.
"Parile, I have discovered a way to keep you safe," I began slowly, and then I watched for her reaction.
The Princess knit her brow again, and then her chin came up into the air.
"If you are suggesting that I attempt an escape to a nearby country, I assure you mother, I will not leave you, father, or any of our people behind. Just because I am born to privilege should not mean that I might leave the rest of the kingdom for dead. After all, a captain goes down with his ship."
My smile was strained but proud. The fairy-gifts of a quick wit, tongue, and noble heart had demonstrated themselves once again. I continued to explain.
"No. You remember the spinning wheel curse and the fairy's words?"
She nodded, her mind trying to follow my thought process.
"We will use the curse, or rather the gift, to our advantage. I have ordered a servant to bring a spinning wheel up from the underground chamber. You are not yet sixteen, so if you prick your finger, you will fall into the enchanted sleep, and the conqueror will not be able to touch a hair on your head, daughter!" I said.
She stared at me, and her mouth gaped slightly. I could tell she was shaken by my plan. After a few seconds, Parile blinked and spoke in a soft, whispery voice, and my daughter sounded like a little child once more.
"But… but mother, I could not."
She hesitated and drew in a shaky breath.
"I could not save myself and leave you here to die. Please, do not ask me to do that!"
Her voice increased in volume along with the panic, and she grabbed my shoulders.
"I would wake up, and know no one! Not a single soul in the entire world! I cannot do that! No, no, no, no!"
Parile punctuated each word with a soft sob, and I gathered her into my arms. As she cried quietly, I thought to myself that no girl her age should have to see the cruelty of war. No child should see her family and people butchered, and no child should have to be separated from everything and everyone she knew. The servants came quietly into the room to inform me that the mattress was up in the tower room with the spinning wheel. When she heard them, Parile uttered a terrified cry and started to tremble uncontrollably.
"I will not do it, mother! You cannot make me!"
Suddenly, one of the serving men stepped boldly forward to tap her on the shoulder. She turned, her face wet with tears, and he bowed low before the Princess.
"Milady, your soldiers and your people have fought and died to protect you. Even little children have been killed. If you insist on allowing the conqueror to kill you, then they have died for nothing!"
Parile sniffed and swallowed.
"You wish me to prick my finger on the spinning wheel?" she asked slowly.
The servant raised his head to face her.
"I do not mean to be insolent, your highness, but you would be selfish not to."
Parile nodded and raised the man to his feet.
"If these were better days, I would honor you for your wise counsel. Truly, you are a dependable advisor in these dark times. I wish I could reward you as you deserve."
He bowed low once more and said, "Your praise, your highness, is the only reward I could hope for."
My daughter turned to me.
"Will you and father stay with me while I-I prick my finger?"
I rushed to hug her once more.
"Of course, love. We be right at your side."
Just as my husband joined us, a trumpet sounded a short blast from beyond the castle walls, and it reminded me of the enemy outside. I hurried my daughter up the stairs.
The long climb seemed to last forever, but when we reached the top the servant who had convinced Parile was waiting beside the spinning wheel. Her father gave her a last bear hug, crushing her in his arms. He whispered his love in her ear, and then she turned to me. I was already weeping openly, but I reached out to brush her tears off of her cheek.
"I love you."
What else was there to say? I held her one last time. Then, she climbed into the bed and held out her shaking hand to the spinning wheel. I caught my breath, but then, Parile jerked her hand back. Her face was white with terror, and she whispered, "I do not want to wake up alone."
The servant walked forward and bowed.
"Milady, you will never be alone. I have a son who is six now. When I am gone, he will watch over you, and his son or daughter will follow his example as well until it is time for you to awake to a new life. I promise you, we will guard you while you sleep."
Parile stiffly nodded her thanks, and she once again reached out to the spinning wheel. This time, her hand did not tremble, and she pricked her forefinger once on the needle. A drop of bright, crimson blood welled up on her skin and fell to the floor. Parile slumped to the mattress, and her eyes fluttered closed. She breathed steadily, and the color slowly came back to her face along with a slight smile. I reached out to stroke her forehead. She sighed, and murmured blissfully in her sleep. The next time I tried to touch my daughter, I could not. I could see her, but I only felt empty air.
I squeezed my eyes shut while my throat ached from weeping. She was safe now. Nothing could harm her. My daughter, my Parile, my Sleeping Beauty was safe.
After descending the stairs, my husband immediately strode to the armory. I followed, slightly curious, but my mind was still with Parile in the tower. He belted a sword to his waist and ordered a shield for himself.
"Get your bow and quiver of arrows," he said to me, not bothering to explain.
"What are you doing?"
His jaw clenched, and he drew the sword so that it glimmered slightly in the torchlight.
"I will not wait around for death."
Then he turned to the small crowd of survivors that had assembled.
"If you wish to join me on one last charge in the name of my daughter and all the children who have been killed by that beast of a man, arm yourselves. Have horses ready. We ride in a half an hour."
The servants and courtiers scurried to prepare, and I grabbed my bow, knowing I would aim for the invading king. But even as I rode my mount straight for the conqueror, I thought of Parile and how we had saved her at least. These thoughts of my daughter sharpened my aim, and my arrow hit the enemy king in the heart before a spear brought me down.
Parile slowly opened her eyes, and blinked. The room was still hazy. At first, all she could remember were the vivid dreams, like stories out of a child's picture book, and delicious sleep that had been ended suddenly by a gossamer touch on her lips. Her vision began to clear, and the Princess saw a window though which sunlight streamed onto the wood floor of a tower room. Then, she remembered.
The Princess sat bolt upright with a soft gasp. In the doorway stood a handsome young man maybe a year or two older than the Princess was. He looked oddly familiar to sleepy Parile, but she could not recall whom he so strongly resembled. Before she could question him, he bowed quickly and began to speak.
"Milady, my name is Samuel, and I am the great-grandson of William, the servant who swore fealty to you and vowed to watch over you while you slept."
Parile licked her lips to wet them.
"The one hundred years have passed, then?"
"Yes," he said. "And the conqueror was slain by your mother right before she and your father fell in battle. His heir was a much kinder man, as is the current ruler."
"Who woke me?"
The man bowed once again and smiled at her, making Parile's stomach flip over in an oddly pleasant way.
"I did, milady."
A/N- Please, please, please review! Yes, I am begging you. One-shots never get many