Author's Note:
A thank you to hugo_sam who helped me with editing on this story. For those new to the series... please check out the other Fairy Tale Fantasies to understand the characters Hetta and Daniel. Enjoy and I look forward to reading your comments. ~ Red
**
Hetta and Daniel sat on the shelf beside the bottle of aged wine. "How often have you heard the tales of your escapades?" Daniel asked his friend. He knew he was sitting closer than he should, but he didn't care. He needed to be with her. He breathed deep the scent of lilies and lilacs, both of them a constant scent on her.
"This one is my favorite," she whispered back. "Now hush."
"Well . . . I'm bored."
"Do something to entertain yourself then," she hissed.
"Muck up something you mean?"
"Don't even think about it " she growled.
Daniel laughed and slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His mouth went to her ear and he nipped the lobe. "Does it matter how I entertain myself?" he whispered. His tongue traced the curve of her ear and he grinned when he heard her intake of breath.
"Behave," she told him. Hetta felt the rippling of butter-fairies in her belly and wondered if it was the same feeling a human got when they spoke of butterflies in their stomach. She pulled her head away and looked at her friend. "Daniel . . . you should look after your charges."
He chuckled and kissed her lips, his tongue dipping in for a taste before she could pull away. "Mmm . . . honey biscuits for supper I see." He disappeared before her wand could tap him on the head. Hetta shivered at the loss of his companionship and tried to concentrate on the scene below her magically, shrunken form.
*****
Henry Liddick sat at the bar listening to the old relic tell the young folks at the tavern of the legend of the woods, as he downed another mug of ale. He too had listened to those words, hung on them just like the wee ones were doing now, but Henry was a man now pushing 40, a wife long dead, three daughters to care for. His twins were the vilest creatures. Both were rude and did nothing but complain of their lots in life. His youngest, Jenny, was the beauty that her mother was. She would brighten his day with a smile and a hug. Though she was everything a father could want in a daughter, she was often why he drank so much. Her beauty reminded him of his lost love and he would find himself drinking away her memory.
His thoughts drifted back to the story teller and the "Ohhs and Ahhs" of the children.
"The Prince you see was a greedy man, not to mention full of himself. That night the rain was falling hard and I barely heard the knock on the castle door," the old man said.
"Was it truly a castle?" a small boy piped up.
"Yes . . . and I really was one of the palace guards. That night I opened the door and I saw an old woman. She had long hair that had grayed with age and hung in wet tangles. Her clothes were worn and holey. She was cold and asked me if I would give her food and drink."
A young girl asked, "Was she as old as Madam Martha?"
Madam Martha chuckled, "No Grace, she wasn't as old as me, no one is that old."
Henry rolled his eyes and twisted around. "No Martha . . . you know how the story goes." He took a swig of his drink and continued, "This story is what grows old. Stories like this make the woods an eerie place for children."
The old man said nothing to Henry. He remembered when the man was a young boy and was entranced with his stories. Now the loss of his wife had made Henry Liddick a bitter man. The story teller continued, "I took the old woman to the kitchens where I found her bread and warm cider to enjoy. I then went in search of the Prince to see if we could find a place for the woman to sleep."
"He wasn't a nice Prince was he?" the youngest girl in front asked. The story had been told many times and the children all knew it by heart, but they each loved hearing it over and over again.
"No. He came and looked at the woman. He ordered me to take her back outside, that her filth wasn't fit for his stables! I couldn't believe it. I begged him to reconsider. The rain had suddenly changed to snow and I knew the woman would die if she were forced to travel outside."
The old man stopped and took a swig of his drink and his eyes connected with Henry's. "That woman stood up and changed, right there in front of me, my Prince, and the kitchen help. She became a Goddess. Her hair was pale blue . . . the color of the sky on a winter's day. Oh and she had the most entrancing eyes. She wore a gown that shimmered when she moved. She pulled a wand from her sleeve and looked at Prince Collan."
No one made a sound not even Henry; he too, was lost in the story.
The old man continued, "The woman was so beautiful the Prince dropped to one knee, pledged his love to her, begged her to stay, and be his wife. She told him that he'd been blinded by his prejudice . . . that means he thought he was better than everyone else . . . and well . . . she lifted the wand and suddenly I watched everyone turn to stone except myself and Prince Collan."
"What happened?"
"Oh my "
"What was her name?"
"Were you scared? Did you scream?"
The questions poured from the children and the old man answered them as best he could. "I was scared. I looked at the Prince and he too was scared. He asked her who she was and why she did this thing to him. She became very angry. She told him she was one of the many Fairies in the land and he'd failed her test. He pleaded with her telling her he was sorry, but his words fell on the wind. She lifted her wand again and Prince Collan screamed in pain as he suddenly began to change."