littlelarkfables

[littlelarkfables]

Day 5 - Reaper

[littlelarkfables]

Mirror Mirror

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful Queen who once had an even lovelier step daughter. The Queen had the girl killed, of course, and lived quite content with that fact. The poor dear had been miserable since her father died, and really the world did not need her. The Queen wandered her castle, alone most often. After the murder, most of the servants left. Those who remained stayed away from the “bereaved” queen. She made quite a show of wailing, when her Hunter returned with the poor girl’s cape, covered in blood. Later, in private, she confirmed her kill, brandishing her step daughters long, luxuriant black braids. The Hunter shorn them off herself. If reports came a week later that the Hunter apparently went mad and charged into the woods crying out, “A child!” that was none of the Queen’s concern. Even if it had been two years, and the Hunter had been her favorite confidant. The halls stretched on, simply decorated and well planned. The Queen may be vain, but she wasn’t frivolous. The people came first. Decorations could be taken care of later. Not everything could be as naturally beautiful as her! It was quiet, the Queen noted. Like a tomb. The Hunter said the girl felt no pain, as she led her into the woods to die. Maybe they were the same woods the Hunter went gallivanting towards. Oddly poetic for a woman who didn’t read, but artists can be found anywhere. The Queen tapped her nails against the stone walls. Sturdy and gray, they stood strong against all forces. Except for sickness. It claimed her husband, and the wife he had before her. Poetically, the same illness. Maybe the Queen ruled a land of poets. How quaint. Her step daughter, rest her soul, never liked poetry. She did like singing. Were her step daughter still around, no doubt the Queen would hear her singing from the courtyard. The girl had a lovely voice, and it saddened the Queen to know she would never hear it again. Alas… but that was the price of completion. Right? The plain and reliable walls the Queen knew so well seemed smaller. It wasn’t a sudden thing. No, it couldn’t be. The Queen knew that for a fact. Maybe she missed having a child running under foot, singing the days away. The Queen hurried towards her rooms. Maybe she simply needed to rest. It was dark out, the Queen noted. If the Hunter were to make a dramatic return, it would have to wait until midnight. The Queen was many things: vain, brutal, and pragmatic, but she also knew how important a story was to these poets. Some were waiting for the spirit of the poor girl to return and haunt the castle, only to be rescued by a handsome prince. The Queen knew that story, and she refused to live it. Her step daughter… The Queen remembered her, quite clearly, despite how much she hated the thought. She would never be able to forget the girl’s long raven hair, snow like skin, or blood red lips. The Queen knew she would never forget. She would never regret having her killed, either, but the mind was a tricky thing. She almost made it back to her chambers when she heard the swift feet of a messenger. The Queen knew she made a cutting figure, in her mourning clothes. Technically she could have taken them off months ago, but it made a better story. “My Queen, the Hunter has returned!” they cried. “And she has-” “Take me to her now,” the Queen commanded. It seemed the Hunter forgot the necessity for dramatics in this situation, but no matter. The Queen was not a poet, but she could make this the best story to grace the land since her step-daughter's death. She bustled towards the castle entrance, cutting off the messenger everytime they tried to explain who the Hunter had brought along. She knew her shock needed to be genuine. Otherwise, two years worth of effort would be wasted. The messenger leapt to keep up with her frantic pace, still trying to babble past the Queen’s cut offs. The Queen evaded their words, so when she swept into the courtyard, black dress billowing around her, she was able to bellow out as loudly as she pleased. “So my favored Hunter has returned from her madness? What excuse can you have for leaving me in my time of need? Or do I need to have it ripped out with your tongue?” The Hunter hid a smile at her lover’s dramatics, holding her bundle tight to her chest. “My Queen, I would not have left your side for all the gold in the world, but I find what I have is worth more than gold.” With that, she exposed the bundle to the Queen. It was a boy, with deeply tanned skin and sun bleached black hair. His ruby red lips split into a wide smile at the sight of the Queen. She found, much to her amazement, her shock was not entirely feigned. It was one thing to plan this all out, but seeing it’s fruition. The boys time with the Hunter’s dwarf friends obviously did its job well. His shoulders, previously narrow and sloped, now came out into a solid and muscular square, just as he longed for. He was perfect. “Who…” “My Queen, meet Black Thorn. He is an orphan I…found in the woods. I think the wood’s themselves called out for me to bring him to you,” the Hunter stammered. The three of them spent hours scripting this out, but she still didn’t have them down pat. The Queen almost sighed. “Hello Black Thorn,” the Queen said. She battered away memories of pale skin and black hair. This was her step son, handsome and strong. No more lovely than her. She swept Black Thorn from the Hunter’s arms, and took him up with her to her chambers. It was quite late, and she was certain he wanted to go to sleep. The Queen was a wicked woman. She was vain and pragmatic to the point of cruelty. She was also smart. She knew how people worked, and if it meant killing a few rabbits to ensure her step son’s happiness, she would manipulate them into accepting anyone as her heir. Especially if the forest itself gave him to her. They lived happily ever after, of course. What good is the story if it cannot end with that?

[littlelarkfables]

The Tortoise and the Hare

One day, under a medicine tree, a Hare listened to Dr. Fox tell her she would never race again. 

“You’re too sick! It’s amazing you were able to hop here, it really is, but if you-” “Oh pish posh,” the Hare sniffed, pushing past Dr. Fox. She ignored their sad eyes, and hopped just to prove a point. She ignored the way her joints screamed and made her way away from the tree. She was not sick!

Not too far away from the medicine tree, she saw a Tortoise. 

The Tortoise looked content enough, resting on a rock. Her eyes fluttered lazily over her domain, a sickly little stream that wrapped it’s way back to Dr. Fox and their sad eyes. It filled the Hare with a desire to do… something. It was a little cruel, but the Hare needed this. “I bet you’re as slow as a rock,” the Hare said, leaning against the Tortoise. The Tortoise laughed. “I’m as fast as a sick tortoise, if that’s what you mean,” she said. She cast her eyes on the Hare, and the Hare felt only the purest anger at the sadness also trapped in them. Did this tree make everyone despair? “Ha! I bet you’re no match against me,” the Hare boasts. She thumps her chest in pride. “You’re looking at the fastest racer in the entire forest!”

“Why don’t we see?” the Tortoise asked. She stood on shaky legs and nudged the Hare playfully. Her eyes were still quite sad, but they had a spark. The Hare batted away a smile at that. Better than pure sadness. “You’re on!” They decided to do a lap around a meadow, and called Dr. Fox over to judge. They frowned, and huffed and puffed about their health. The Tortoise assured them all would be well. The Hare simply demanded they get on with it already. She wanted to see if she could get the Tortoise’s eyes to really shine when she saw how fast the Hare could race. With that, Dr. Fox sent them off.

The Hare went off like a rocket, disappearing into the grass in an instant. The Tortoise began at a much slower pace, of course. Enough to share a few words with Dr. Fox. “You need to cheer up, old friend,” she chided. “A race won’t kill either of us.” “It won’t make you feel better,” Dr. Fox warned. Their sad eyes followed their oldest patient as she swaggered after the Hare. They waited a moment, then scurried back to the medicine tree. They knew they wouldn’t make it back in time, but they doubted they would need to.

The Hare felt her joints ache the moment she started running, but she ignored it. She was the Hare! She was the fastest racer in the land, and no sad eyed tortoise could beat her! Neither could some random illness Dr. Fox decided to assign her. 

Halfway through the lap, the Hare heard a strange noise. She slowed down a moment to figure out what it was, and felt a wave of pain from her knee. She collapsed, gasping for air. She could not comprehend what was happening. The Hare wasn’t sick! She wasn’t! She was a racer, and could hop around the world faster than anything! She had in fact. Not now though, as pain radiated up her legs. Lying there, curled up on the ground, the Hare could only focus on the pain. Eventually the Tortoise found her, slow and steady. She saw the Hare and gasped. “ What happened?” the Tortoise bustled over, her own limbs aching. She reached down to help the Hare, but her fellow racer only batted her hand away. 

“I’m just resting!” the Hare hissed, “keep going. I’ll catch up, and I swear I’ll beat you.” The Tortoise hummed. She looked at the Hare and made a decision. She sat down. “It doesn’t feel right to beat someone who isn’t even trying,” she said. Her eyes glittered. “It wouldn’t be very sporting, would it, master racer?”

“I guess noooooooooooowwwww,” the Hare groaned. Her joints were screaming at her, but her knee… “Oh dear, do you need Dr. Fox-” “I don’t need that LIAR. I’m not sick! I’m perfectly fine.”

“I suppose you are,” the Tortoise mused. “You did make it all the way here, and so much faster than me. “That’s right,” the Hare boasted. She pushed herself up enough to lean against the Tortoise. “I’m the fastest creature in the world. Nothing can outpace me!”

The Tortoise wrapped an arm around the Hare, brushing her ears back from her face. The Hare leaned into the touch, her own paws wrapped around her knee. “I think I saw you race once. I was having a good week and went to watch a race. You were glorious.” The Hare makes some sort of noise, she knows she does, but she can only feel a single, strange, unnameable emotion crash over her. She began to cry into the Tortoise’s shoulder. Neither of them won anything that day, but nor did they lose.

[littlelarkfables]

The Scorpion and the Frog

One day, a lonely Scorpion looked at it’s nasty, dingy home and sighed. No one wanted to be their friend, not when they lived like this. 

They needed to move! Somewhere with lots of light and a view of something nice. Not a dank little hole in the ground. 

They cheered at the thought of having a nice, new home. Maybe they could make friends, throw a dinner party, use their frying pan for something other than decoration. With dinner parties rattling around in their mind, they picked up their frying pan, their only possession, and began the trek to find a new home. They wanted a place far away, where they could have a new start. The Scorpion walked for many days, talking to themself about the marvelous meals they could prepare. Soon enough, they came to a wide river. They went up and down the bank, searching for a bridge to cross on. They found none though, and the thought worried them. “A scorpion does not swim,” they told themself. They wrung their pincers, fretting as they paced. It was not in the nature of scorpion’s to swim, and despite their peculiarities, they were still very much a scorpion.  

A Frog watched them from the safety of the water, brow raised. Ze had never seen such a sight! Ze listened to the Scorpion fret before deciding to have a bit of fun. “Why would a scorpion need to swim?” the Frog asked lazily. Ze drifted closer to the shore, entranced by the Scorpion’s shining shell. The sun made them look like a ruby, glittering and beautiful. Ze had never seen anything like this, either. It was… “I need a new home,” the Scorpion said, tail thrashing as they gestured. They turned to the Frog with wide, pleading eyes. “Would you be able to give me a ride across the river?” The Frog spluttered and shook zir head frantically. Ze almost hadn’t heard the Scorpion’s question, but the Frog knew what would happen if ze allowed the Scorpion onto zir back. “You’ll probably sting me! Isn’t that your nature?” 

Natures were important to the Frog. They let zir know who was safe, and who would hurt zir. No matter how pretty they were, the Frog could not fall for any tricks. “If I sting you, I’ll drown! In the water you will hold my life in your hands.” The Frog considered this, eyes tracing the point of their stinger. Then ze saw something on the Scorpion’s back. “What’s that?” ze asks, gesturing to the frying pan. Ze pulled zirself out of the river to get a better look. The Scorpion flushed in embarrassment. Although hard to see under their shell, the Frog noticed the change with no small amount of glee. A blushing ruby sounded like magic, and looked like it too. “Oh, you know… everything I own. A frying pan mostly. All the more reason for me not to sting you! I would hate to lose it.” The Frog laughed, though not unkindly. Zir's mind was still occupied with the idea of making the Scorpion blush. Maybe nature could wait a moment, long enough to swim across the river. 

“I suppose that is a compelling argument.”

And you are very beautiful, though ze did not say that. Instead, ze offered the scorpion zir back. The Scorpion scuttled over and clung to the Frog. Their pointy legs dug into zir sides, but they shifted so they wouldn’t pierce the Frog’s delicate skin. It was tight and intimate, and the Frog knew ze blushed. The Scorpion, however, did not. They could feel the Frog’s heart beating fast, however, as they clung to zir. From fear… the Scorpion thought sadly. Only scorpions seemed to like them, but even then they didn’t like them enough to be friends. The Frog should be no different. 

The pair began the swim, chatting about dinners and cooking. The Frog never had a cooked meal, and the Scorpion never had anyone to cook for. It was small talk, of course, but they both hung onto every word the other said. Halfway across, the Scorpion began to panic. They had never been on a frog’s back before, nor crossed a river before. Whatever they were expecting, this was not it. Their pointy little legs dug in deep, almost piercing the Frog. “I’m going to die!” the Scorpion shrieked. The Frog bobbed from the movement, head going under. Ze forced zirself back up. “Only if you force me under. I promise you, you will not die today. It’s not in my nature. I promise you, it’s not in my nature.” Ze counseled the Scorpion, until they simply closed their eyes and buried their face into the Frog’s back. Their tail stuck straight up into the air, a desperate attempt at balancing. It was in this manner the Frog swam across, unimpeded but tense. As soon as the Frog made it close enough to land, the Scorpion launched off of zir back, splashing through the water and onto blessedly solid ground, collapsing in joy. The Frog paddled awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. “Oh thank you!” the Scorpion gasped, trembling with relief. They turned to face the Frog with a bright smile. It made the ruby of their shell shine even brighter, and the Frog was left unable to form words. Ze managed to nod at the gratitude. “Once I find a new home, I’ll come back and invite you to supper. My pan has never- oh no!” Neither noticed the Scorpion’s pan fell off of their back while they panicked. The Scorpion groaned in dismay. They would never be able to find it in that river. “I suppose I’ll serve you foraged goods, if you’d like to visit,” they say. Despite zir heart screaming at zir, the Frog shook zir head. “It’s in my nature to be alone. I wish you luck though, and hope you find a new pan,” the Frog said. “I would not mind it if our paths crossed again.”

Oddly heartbroken, the Scorpion waved goodbye and continued on their way. They do end up finding a new home, of course. A lovely little cottage with frilly curtains and a fully stocked kitchen to host as many dinners as they pleased. They don’t make many friends, but the ones they do, they spoil as much as they can. 

They never quite bring themself to replace their frying pan, though. They can learn how to cook with other things. The Frog stayed in zir river, paddling back and forth lazily each day. Ze tried to find the frying pan, but found only thoughts of rubies.

 One particular, gorgeous, scorpion shaped ruby who did not abide by their nature. What was the Frog, then? A depressing green blob, so constrained by the nature of being a Frog that ze couldn’t make a friend? It was unbearable. It worsened, until the Frog knew ze could not live like this anymore. Ze needed to act. 

The Frog pulled zirself out of the river. Ze would look for the Scorpion. Ze would apologize for zir words, and hopefully the pair would share a lovely meal. Maybe they would even become friends. Or maybe something more, the Frog’s little mind whispered, ignoring thoughts of nature and fear. 

But first, ze would find a frying pan.

[littlelarkfables]

Tam Lin and the Selkie

Long ago, there lived a fearsome knight named Janet. In the name of her father, the King of Seas, she defended the borders with a warrior’s heart and passionate spirit. 

Her father, a King of the Sea, rewarded her bravery and gave her the mantle of her mother, a seal skin that would allow her to become a selkie like her mother before. “Keep it close, and keep it safe,” her father warned, “for to lose it would risk the dominion of another over you.” Janet took the seal skin, promising her father she would keep it safe. Tying it around her waist, she cut an impressive figure on every battle field. Janet garnered many names. The Mad Sea Dog. The Maritime Butcher. Sometimes even just the Devil. 

Even so, with all the glory and accolades, Janet found her mind occupied with the question of love. For so long, her follow warriors claimed to fight for love, that it made them stronger. She knew love was not hers, that her heart was not crafted to hold that ideal, and the thought of not having access to that strength upset her. 

Despondent, she traveled to the borders she defended for her entire life. Her father warned her often enough about the kind of people beyond them. They would demand much from her, a toll. If she could not pay, they would take it from her body.

“Be wary, most all, of Carterhall, where the Queen of Fairies has decreed no soul may rest without payment to it’s keeper. Many maidens have gone, but returned a maiden nevermore.”

Janet thought about this. She did not care if she lost her maidenhood. In fact, she rather relished the thought. Just because she did not feel a romantic inkling for anyone did not mean she did not desire a more physical companionship. 

Janet unwound her seal skin and slipped into her other form. If she were to go about unimpeded, she would need all the help she could get. 

Now a simple seal, Janet swam across the border. She swam, harder and faster than she ever had before, until she came upon a beach. Janet pulled herself upon it to bask in the sun. She stripped herself of her seal skin and lay there, bare to the world. 

What a strange world it is, Janet thought. Strange, but beautiful all the same. 

What she did not know was that this was Carterhal, the same one her father warned her against. The home of Tam Lin, a deft elf woman who recrafted her body to suit her true self. She was the confidant of the Fairy Queen, who bound her to the beach as it’s guardian. “How dare you partake in my sunshine, sunshine?” Tam Lin called out. Her dark eyes traced the naked form on the log. Janet barely processed the words before leaping into a defensive position. Tam Lin barely had time to process that before Janet had her pinned to the ground. What transpired between them then is better left unsaid, though it ended with the promise they would see one another again. “Sunshine, you are always welcome,” Tam Lin purred. “And I will always take it,” Janet said. Tam Lin wrapped her in her seal skin and sent her away. 

Janet swam fast and hard, all the way home to her waiting father. For almost ten months, she went and fought her kingdom’s battles, It wasn’t until an enemy refused to fight her that she allowed herself to admit something may have happened that day on the beach with Tam Lin.

Her father called her to him, eyeing the swell of her belly. He sighed. Someone had claimed his daughter’s maidenhood, and given her a child. She was never the type to take the easy path. He did not care if she did not want the babe, but if she did- “My dear daughter, I fear you are with child. Who in my court shall give up their name alongside yours at their birth?” he asked, worrying his beard. 

“None of the court, dear father, and none of the sea. This child’s parent is none other than Tam Lin, guardian of Carterhall. We lay together near ten months ago now, and I fear the child was only out of our desire to be close, and no wedding bells shall ring for us.”

The king tasked her to find the mother of her child. Tam Lin would come to court and officially give her name at the birth. Then they could decide what to do. 

Once again, Tam Lin donned her seal skin and swam, faster and harder than she ever thought possible. Along the way, she considered her situation. She did not love Tam Lin, not in the way she would need in order to marry her. She didn’t mind the thought of being a mother, but she did quite mind the fact it was unintended.

She was a warrior! The Mad Sea Dog, the Maritime Butcher, the Devil itself! No one bested her, except for her own choices apparently. 

Coming to Tam Lin’s beach, Janet smiled at the sight of the sun dappled sands. Once more, she pulled herself onto one and stripped. She reclined, bare to the world. Tam Lin would come, she knew. It was simply a matter of waiting.

Within an hour, Tam Lin creeped over to the log, eyes fixed on Janet. She gasped at the sight of Janet’s belly, horrified. Janet turned to her with a smile, but she could only stammer. 

“I… I am so sorry, I didn’t think I could still-’”

“There is no need to apologize. It was my choice to lay with you, and it is my choice to bear the child. If I did not want to, I would not be here to ensure you give up your name upon the birth,” Janet interrupted. She tied her seal skin around herself, hiding her belly. “Now, come with me. This babe will come any day, and we both need to be there to give them our names.”

“I cannot leave this beach, sunshine. I would go with you, but I am bound here by the Queen of Fairies, after she saved me from a sinking ship,” Tam Lin said. “And tomorrow, upon the moon’s rise, she plans to pull me to her side for eternity. She is indebted to the Devil, and every so often she will give one of her own to it, one who is fair of flesh and name. I know this fate awaits for me.” Janet scowled at. She was not a warrior for nothing, and she would take Tam Lin away from such a fate. When she demanded the knowledge of how to unbind Tam Lin, Tam Lin warned her what would happen if Janet dragged her from the beach. The Fairy Queen wanted to be certain Tam Lin would never leave her post, not until the time came for the Devil to take her. 

First, she would transform into a snake, hissing and spitting. It would plunge her fangs into Janet, but so long as she remembered that it was Tam Lin, they could make it.

She would then change into a raging lion, clawing it’s way back to the surface. It would scar Janet, but so long as she remembered that it was Tam Lin, they could make it. 

Then Tam Lin would become a rock, heavy and sinking. It would drown Janet, but so long as she remembered that it was Tam Lin, they would make it. 

Finally, Tam Lin would become a burning coal. If the coal went out, she would die, and all would be for not. So long as she remembered that it was Tam Lin, they would make it. 

Janet took Tam Lin in her arms, and slid into her seal skin. Tam Lin smiled at the sight Janet’s rotund form, but quickly lost her mirth as she considered the sea before her. “This is a lot of effort to save a person you don’t love, you know. I don’t mind it, but I have to wonder.”

Janet could not answer, not quite then. They pressed themselves together, one last time, and Janet dragged Tam Lin into the sea. 

It was just as Tam Lin warned. The instant her feet left the sand, her body twisted into that of a snake. It bit at Janet, desperately trying to escape. 

Janet remembered it was Tam Lin, and easily recaptured it in her mouth, careful not to bite down too hard. 

When Janet did not let the snake go, it twisted again into a mighty lion. It tore at Janet’s back, but Janet remembered it was Tam Lin, and bit down hard on the lion’s tail to drag it through the water. 

When the lion could not escape, Janet felt her jaw wrench open as it changed into a large stone, dragging her down into the water. Her lungs clenched as she desperately tried to swim back to the surface, but she remembered it was Tam Lin. Janet ignored the pain. 

At last, the rock changed it’s shape one last time, into a burning coal. Janet nearly screeched from the burns in her mouth, but she remembered it was Tam Lin, and shot for the surface as quickly as her fins could take her. 

Bleeding from bites and claws, choking on water, and mouth blistering and burnt, Janet leaped from the water to release Tam Lin. The coal changed one last time, returning to Tam Lin, who wrapped her arms around Janet. “Sunshine, oh sunshine,” she cried, hands ghosting over the wounds. “Thank you.” Janet huffed a laugh. She’d faced worse injuries on the battlefield, but she would not say anything if it meant keeping Tam Lin’s hands on her. They floated like this, wrapped up in one another. 

Far off, back on the shores of Carterhall, the Fairy Queen screamed at the loss of his favored Tam Lin. He cursed the selkie who took her away. She cursed Tam Lin for following. He cursed them, magic twisting around her. Any love between them should turn to hate, burning out their hearts and eyes. Satisfied his revenge would take place, the Fairy Queen left Caterhall to assure the Devil Tam Lin would one day be claimed. 

He thought it was love that allowed Tam Lin to escape, like many others would. He thought they would fall into one another, in light of the child. He thought that Janet’s care and passion would turn to romance, and Tam Lin’s wandering heart would seal itself into her lover’s chest.

He was wrong. 

Tam Lin was not Janet’s true love, or even a love. She was, however, someone Janet cared for. She would care for Tam Lin until the day she died. Her father warned her never to allow someone her skin, for risk of coming under their dominion, but he said nothing about letting someone under her skin. 

The Devil did indeed claim Tam Lin, on that day, for Tam Lin was fair of flesh and name. If you go to the sea, you may hear the scarred Devil calling out to Tam Lin, telling her to get her child under control before they go falling off a cliff.