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Once upon a time and long, long ago, there was a good queen with a just king for her husband. For while the king was a just man, he was not a warm king. Instead, he placed the future of his kingdom forever before his own happiness. The queen was a good, warm woman that offered all that her husband could not. Together, they had ruled for many years in tandem, respected and loved by their people. Sadly, despite many years of companionable marriage, the king and queen had no children. Now, the queen believed that her king would divorce her, or worse, in order to secure a legal line of succession and prevent civil war on his death (for he was ever pragmatic, no matter that he cared for her).
In belief of the old ways, one night, the queen wept and collected her tears in a bowl filled with milk and mixed in three drops of her blood (one for her kingdom, one for her king, and one for the future they both longed to create). She set her brew below an open window the night of the full moon and waited.
At midnight, a hare leapt through her window and sat lapping from the bowl. At length, the hare spoke, "I accept your offering. What do you ask of me?"
"I am childless, and my king needs an heir. Is there anything to be done?" the queen asked with her quiet will of steel.
The hare tipped its head this way and that, thinking. "You shall have a child. I will collect my price at the birth." With that, the hare disappeared.
Before the month was through, the queen discovered she was with child. Through out the kingdom, there was much rejoicing. The king threw lavish parties, the queen was doted on, and all was right in the world once again.
Finally, the day arrived late that winter, and the queen gave birth to a tiny baby girl.
The king left the birthing chamber without a word, denied once again his heir. The queen ordered her attendants from the room and cradled the crying princess. "Hush, hush," she whispered to her babe and began to weep for she had failed her king and now her daughter.
"What shall I do?" she asked. "The king must have me disgraced in order to gain a new bride. What will become of our kingdom if he fails?"
"Do you not care what will he do to your child?" a fox asked from the foot of her bed. It was the fae that had come to her before.
The queen dared look at her crying babe. "Is she not your price? That you tricked me into hope with pregnancy and now laugh at my misery and devour my offspring?"
The fox made a face. "I would much rather a lock of your hair and a vial of your blood. I have seen rats much fatter and tastier."
"If you can secure my position and the safety of my child, I shall give you both and anything you ask for." the queen promised
The fox's ears perked. "Anything I ask?"
The queen nodded. "I know what I offer you. Anything for our safety." For not only was she was a good and compassionate queen, she was well learned in the ways of the world.
Another basket appeared. In it laid a quiet, very green, baby boy with pointed ears, an ugly nose, and bowed legs.
"This was a child troll abandoned on my doorstep. I offer you a trade. Your beautiful girl for this ugly boy. Treat him well, and I will treat your daughter well. Treat him poorly..." and the fox grinned with very pointed teeth.
The queen took both babies into her arms. The little princess fussed and twisted. The troll baby nuzzled at her breast and began to suckle.
"You would treat her well and protect her from harm if I take in this child?" the queen asked at length.
"Yes. I give you my word."
"Will I ever see her again?"
"Perhaps," the fox hedged.
"Then, our bargain is struck." With uneven chops, the queen cut off all of her hair and gave the fox a cup of her blood to insure her child's safety.
And the little princess went to live in the forest from the kingdom while the next morning the queen presented the king with his long sought after heir.
It was very hard for the queen to know she had given away her own child for the good of her kingdom. She often had nightmares that her child was sacrificed in dark magical rituals, roasted over a spit and devoured, or sold bit by bit as potion ingredients. She found it difficult not to blame her troll prince for her own lose. It was not until several years had passed, and the young troll toddled toward her with his favorite toy, asking, "please play, Mummy," that she finally felt her heart soften.
Eighteen years past, and the queen grew to love her troll son as her own, and she taught him that purpose of the royal house was to protect the people and the kingdom at all costs. He loved his mother and took her lessons well. For all that he was ugly, he was a good and great prince. He led the kingdom's army, rousing his troops to victory against the bleakest odds. He walked among the people and cared for them in time of famine, invested wisely in times of great wealth for the darker tomorrow. He loved and was beloved far and wide.
And yet...
"Mother, I do not think I will ever marry," the troll prince confided to his mother one day. "For I am too ugly to wed princess. It would be unkind."
"Hush," the queen told him and kissed his forehead, next to the great hairy mole. "You have a beautiful soul and rule a great kingdom with a kind hand. One day, your princess shall come."
"I worry about our son's prospects," the king told the queen one night. "Our neighbors think he will infect their family lines. All our work may be for naught, my wife, if we do not find our son a bride before I pass."
The queen, ever dutiful, once more wept into a bowl of milk and mixed in three drops of her blood (one for her troll son, one for her lost daughter, one for the safety of her kingdom) on the night of the full moon. At midnight, a large black dog appeared at the foot of her bed.
"I am surprised you have waited so long to call me," the fae told her. "I expected you long ago."
"Please," the queen asked, "I come asking you for one more favor."
The dog tipped its head. "A favor, you say? You do not wish see your daughter?"
The queen held her breath. "...you would tell me of my daughter?"
The dog sat on its haunches and barked out a laugh. "I would, o queen, if that is what you ask of me. You have treated the troll I gave you well. You have made him prince and heir, and he will be a good king. You have done what I asked of you and more. I have given my part of the bargain and more in return: I have treated your child well and protected her like own. Know this, good queen, she is happy. I give you truth for your kindness, for you have earned that."
"But," continued the dog, "what use is a good king that can never have an heir? For no woman of breeding would bed a troll, and your troll has been raised too well and is too polite to wish a girl magicked into marriage. As you have given me three drops of your blood, I shall only give you three favors. You must choose: a bride for your troll or your daughter returned?"
The queen sat with her hands folded in her lap and stared at the far wall of her chambers. She thought of her kingdom and all that she had done in its name. She thought of her son, for her troll prince was indeed her son, and how he would be a great king. She thought of her daughter, and knew that the fae spoke the truth: that her daughter was still alive in this world and happy somewhere. She stayed turning these thoughts over and over in her head until almost dawn when the dog barked, "You must choose now!"
"I choose--!"
The next day, a great caravan arrived at the castle and asked for audience with the royal court. An old hag with a milky eye hobbled toward the royal dais with a stranger covered from head to toe in rags trailing behind her.
"We have traveled very far, your majesties," the hag told the court with a voice very powerful for a woman so old, "from our great kingdom to offer your thanks in the last great war. In hopes that we might further cement our alliance, we come with the offer of our fairest rose among our thorns--"
The stranger lifted the hood from her face to reveal herself: she was beautiful maid with shimmering dark hair and a full red mouth. The queen gasped, for she knew this face well. It had been her own twenty years before.
"I am the Princess Brair Rose," the beautiful woman spoke with a soft yet still strong voice, "and I have come to offer my hand in marriage to your Prince."
The troll prince took the steps down the dais two at a time. "Princess, please. Please. Do not offer such things." He screwed up his face, making the moles and wrinkles stand out even more, and bared his very yellow and cracked teeth. "I can not ask one such as you to marry one such as me. We will find another way to cement our alliance--"
The princess stopped the prince with two fingers on his lips and smiled. Then, kissed his nose. "Where I am from," she told the dumb struck prince, "we see only the truth of appearances. When I look at you, prince, I see your sacrifice for your people and the good that you have done. Besides," and she giggled, "you would be most handsome indeed among my troll kingdom. Please, if you must protest, do so because you wish to know me better. Not that you wish to spare me a burden that I do not see."
The good queen witnessed her son married to a human princess raised among trolls. Though her husband died a short time later, she spent the remainder of her years happily spoiling her grandchildren and watching her kingdom prosper with the promise it would continue long after her death.
One night, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair appeared in her bed chamber.
"Is it time, Lord Death?" the old queen asked. "I somehow expected you different..."
"A sense of humor," the fae whispered in her ear. "Something I never expected of you. What lovely surprises you always had for me."
"I thought there were no more favors to be given."
"No. This is a boon given gladly, good queen." The fae smiled and dawn broke.
"I never knew your name."
"Take a breath," the fae whispered in answer.
The good queen took in one last, deep breath, smelling nothing but flowers and sunlight, and felt the light kiss of the fae against her lips. And the good queen died in her sleep.
THE END