#Prince Ivan and the Gray Wolf

[thelastofthebookworms]

Sorry, there was an error in the poll, I had to start it again.

My tag for this series is 'fairy tales'.

[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, Fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Warnings: violence, gore, smut (non-explicit)

Word count: 66.7k

A/N: The real Paul I of Russia was kind of a jerk and came to such a sticky end (assassinated by his own officers) that I couldn’t think of something realistic or historically accurate for him, so I had to put him into an AU. Plus, I’ve always loved Slavic fairy tales/folk tales, and it’s been really fun working them into a fic. This is mostly based on Prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf, but there are elements from other tales as well.

I include a few Russian words for authenticity’s sake. In case the meaning isn’t clear from the text itself, there will be a translation at the bottom of the chapter.

A few notes on the Russian names/pronunciation:

Paul’s full name in Russian, Pavel Petrovich, is used for formal occasions. Pasha and Pavlik are short forms, while Pashenka and Pavlushka are pet names.

The princess’s name, Zhara, is based on the Russian word for fire, Zhar (Жар). “Zh” is pronounced like the “s” in “leisure”, or the French “j”.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16

by Shaverma iz Ada (this is not made specific for the story, but it fits my visualization of the characters so well that I have to include it.)

Don't forget to check out my masterlist (Hellcheer and other JQ characters) right here!

[theragamuffininitiative]

Okay tell me ALL about your fairy tale retelling WIP, I am most curious!!

hi hi hi!

Brief lil disclaimer here: I wrote this story as my nanowrimo project back in erm 2021 and have barely looked at it since. (working on that!) Everything I am about to say is based on my memory of how the story was working at the time and a couple glances at my documents tonight - and if I say something in this post that I like better than what I originally had, I will run with it. XD

Right then!

Tsarevitch Ivan, the Firebird, and the Gray Wolf is a Russian fairytale classified as a 550 on the ATU folklore index (a fact I sprinkle in not to be pretentious but bc I recently discovered the index and it is fascinating). This basically means the story revolves around catching a mystical bird, sometimes a phoenix, and involves a princess, usually a horse, and some supernatural animal helper. In my retelling, I also take from the Grimm Brothers' The Golden Bird version.

As you know, I fell into the intrigue of this tale when visiting an art museum displaying Vasnetsov's A Knight at the Crossroads, which is a reference to this tale. Now, Vasnetsov also painted Tsarevitch Ivan on a Gray Wolf:

And it's just so????!

In my retelling of this fairytale, our hero is a bit of a simple boy. He is content with simple things and a simple life after his near-death at a young age to a mysterious wasting disease spreading across the land - a madness that robs the infected of sleep and appetite until they go insane. The only cure is the fruit of an equally mysterious tree. Ivan fears his healing may have not been complete, for he has not felt the need for sleep or food the way he ought to ever since.

When fruit begins to disappear from the closely protected tree, the threat of losing the cure drives Ivan into action. An enchantment of sleep shields the thief from being captured. Here, Ivan's curse is a boon, as he alone sees a great golden bird steal the fruit. Although a great company set out to capture the bird, Ivan becomes separated from them and lost. At an ancient crossroads that promises death in every direction, he meets the Wolf, the instrument of the crossroads' doom. When the Wolf unexpectedly takes Ivan to find his missing companions, they discover the whole company has fallen to the madness - Ivan's brother among them.

It is no disease, but a curse.

Ivan, now with the Wolf, seeks aid from his best friend, the Princess Evolett, who was to be wed to the prince of the neighboring country and seal a treaty of peace between them. But all is not as it seems in these foreign lands, and Ivan must work with the Wolf to capture the golden bird, protect the fruit tree, rescue Evolett, heal the madness, prevent war between the two kingdoms, and defeat a dark enchantment for good - if the Wolf, the madness, or a multitude of other enemies don't kill him first... [ramble continued below the cut]

I love, love, love playing around with the fairytale motifs in this story.

For example, the original fairytale has a very episodic, repetitive sort of scavenger hunt that Ivan is forced into. I messed with it a lot to give the different elements their own, interconnected importance: the tree is a magical cure, the bird has magical elements of its own, the golden cage from some versions of the tale is a metaphor for the princess's imprisonment, the inns are not merely symbolism for laziness but traps laid by a powerful enemy to serve a dark purpose, and nothing is as it would seem - least of all Ivan or the Wolf.

The characteristics for Ivan specifically came to me while watching Mal in the first season of Netflix's Shadow and Bone.

I really love Mal's stubborn tenacity, fierce loyalty, and simplistic personal goals in the face of all the complexity and conniving of everything around him. Since this fairytale showcases a "simpleton" character, I wanted to show that character at their very best.

Also! I love writing Ivan and the Wolf. Ivan's plucky, irreverent sense of humor set against the Wolf's stoic, utterly dry and cold attitude is so much fun to play with. 👏

(tried to credit the images by link, not sure if that worked)

Excerpt from Ivan meeting the Wolf:

Then the wolf made a guttural, whining sound from the back of its throat, a sound which rolled forward out of its mouth and formed into four distinct words. "Will you kill me?" Ivan stared at it.  Having never met a wolf before, he couldn’t say with absolute authority that they did not speak, but he also thought that if they had, someone might have mentioned it to him once upon a time. This one, however, most assuredly had spoken. He supposed he should have asked it to repeat itself, or even agreed with the sentiment and at once lifted his weapon. Instead, he considered the question posed to him. "I don't think so," he said in the end. "Not unless I have to.”  He didn’t add that this was because he didn’t think he could beat the wolf if he tried. There was something else at work here, as he had feared, and he needed to find out what the game was. In his head, he noted that this creature was not merely a wolf, but the Wolf. The wolf made another noise, and this sounded like a quiet, “Ah, then.” “What will you do if I come down?” Ivan ventured to ask. The Wolf blinked lazily. “I have deprived you of your mount,” it stated. “I have come to take you where you must go.” That didn’t sound promising, although slightly better than admitting it wanted to gobble him up. “Are you fae?” Ivan called to it. He felt he remembered something from his father’s stories that the fae had to answer truthfully the questions you asked them directly. “I am not.” Enchanted or a liar, then. A wolf given the tongue of man. It also seemed to think something like a man, though its tone was distant and cold. “How can I trust you?” he asked it. The Wolf stared at him, not responding, and cocked its head. So maybe not the thinking of a man. Maybe the concept of trust was foreign to it still. He tried something less abstract. “Are you going to attack me?” “That is not my purpose,” said the Wolf. “There is an inn, a long distance from here. You have strayed from the path and it took me some time to find you, but I can lead you there, through ways horse hooves cannot tread, before the Wood grows dark.” “Is leading me to the inn your purpose?” “It is.” “Why?” The Wolf had to think about this, and Ivan thought again that it didn’t seem to be comfortable with questions that involved reasoning beyond cold facts. “The crossroads demand a price from everyone who passes through them. The price is set by your choice and you have chosen. Now I will take you where your path leads.”

Yes, I'll take "uneasy partnerships founded on enmity but sealed in friendship" for $500, thank you.

A messy music playlist I haven't touched since NaNo writing: here It's a story of family, loyalty, honor, and simple truths more powerful than any deep enchantment. 🥺😭

Excited to write Evolett more, she is a spitfire and impressed by no one (even when probably she should be, for her own good lol). Ivan's father was an adventurer in his own day, and I love writing little nods to his offstage capers - there's an invisibility cloak!

Ivan's brother is kind of a jerk. 🙈 But hey, still family. And he's less of a jerk than the guys in the old fairytale ok. 😅 Probably.

Ok, I feel like that's a pretty boring ramble, but I have tried to type this up about five different times so here we are! I have shed tears over Ivan and the Wolf, and lived in the nonsense from the random old woman running the dilapidated inn next to the one that breathes enchantment, and sketched out the borderlines between kingdoms and the unseen shadowy arm reaching across borders to ensnare them all, and written a lot of dog jokes. I love this one, I can't wait to get back into it. 😊

Thank you for asking and letting me ramble! 💛

[acidmanticore]

"Tale about prince Ivan, Firebird and the Gray Wolf".

[I've put illustrations by Bilibin in there, those are the best, but first - look at this painting by Vasnetsov]

Here we go.

In some kingdom lived Tsar Vyslav. He had three sons: first prince Dmitry, second prince Vasily and the third - prince Ivan.

Tsar Vyslav had a garden, so rich noone in any other kingdom had better, in which grew exotic and expensive trees with fruits and without, and Tsar's favourite was an apple tree that had golden apples.

The Firebird started visiting tsar Vyslav's garden, it's feathers golden, it's eyes like Eastern crystal glass. It would fly over every night, land onto tsar's favourite apple tree, pick golden apples and fly away.

Tsar Vyslav was very sad about that apple tree, about Firebird stealing so many apples, so he's called for his sons and told them:

- My dear children! Could you catch the Firebird in my garden? Who manages to catch it alive will get half of the kingdom right away and will become the next tsar when I die.

So his children answered all together:

- Our gracious royal father, your highness! We will try our best to catch the Firebird alive!

First night prince Dmitry went to the garden, sat under the apple tree Firebird was stealing from, fell asleep and didn't hear the bird which came and ate a lot of apples.

In the morning tsar Vyslav called for his son prince Dmitry and asked:

- Well, my gracious son, have you seen the Firebird?

Prince answered:

- No, my royal father! It hasn't come this night.

Next night prince Vasily went to guard the tree. He's sat under the same apple tree, couple hours went by and he's fell asleep and slept so deep he couldn't hear the Firebird that flew over and ate apples again.

In the morning tsar Vyslav called for him and asked:

- Well, my gracious son, have you seen the Firebird?

- My royal father! No, it didn't come this night.

The third night prince Ivan went to the garden and sat under the same apple tree. He sits for an hour, two, three - and in an instant the whole garden got lit up so bright like there were many torches: the Firebird came, perched on the tree and started eating golden apples.

Prince Ivan snuck up on it so well he's managed to grab it by the tail, but couldn't hold it well: Firebird slipped out of his hands and flew away, leaving for prince Ivan only a feather from it's tail.

In the morning as soon as tsar Vyslav woke up prince Ivan came to him and have him the feather.

Tsar Vyslav was very glad his youngest son managed to at least get the feather of the Firebird.

It was so wonderful and bright, you could bring it into the dark room and the feather would light it up brighter than thousands of candles. Tsar Vyslav put it in his room like a treasure. Since then Firebird stopped flying to the garden.

Once again tsar Vyslav called for his sons and told them:

- My dear children! I'll give you my blessing to go, find me the Firebird and bring it to me alive. And of course, the one who will bring it to me will get what I've promised before.

Princes Dmitry and Vasily were holding a grudge against their youngest brother prince Ivan, who's managed to get the feather from Firebird's tail, got their blessing and went away together.

Price Ivan were asking his father's blessing too. Tsar Vyslav told him:

- My gracious child, my dear boy! You're still so young and not used to traveling far, why would you go away from me? Your brothers are going anyway. What if you all leave me and none come back? I'm already old and walking under the gods [old saying means close to death], if when you're gone they'll take my life, who will rule my kingdom? What if riot or other disagreement happens amongst our people and there will be noone to stop it, or what if the enemy comes to our borders and there's noone to lead the army?

But no matter how hard tsar Vyslav tried to stop prince Ivan, he's still had to let him go. With persistence Ivan's got his father's blessing, chose the horse and left, not even knowing where he's going.

He was riding for some time, close or far, high of deep - fairytale told fast, not so fast the real ride. Finally he's come to the open fields, to the green meadows. In the middle of the crossroads stone stands and on that stone words carved: "Who will go forward from this stone, will be hungry and cold. Who will go right will be whole and alive but their horse dead. Who will go left will be killed but their horse alive".

Prince Ivan read the carvings and went right, holding on his mind: even if his horse dies, he'll be alive and able to find a new horse.

He was riding for a day, two, three - the Gray Wolf came up to him from the forest and said:

- Hey, young boy, prince Ivan! You've read on the stone that your horse will die, why keep going?

Wolf said those words, jumped, tore Ivan's horse in half and walked away.

Prince Ivan cried, mourning his horse, but kept walking.

He was traveling on foot for the whole day, and just sat down to get some rest, when Gray Wolf caught up to him and said:

- I feel sorry for you, prince Ivan, you were walking so long and so tired. I feel sorry that I've killed your horse. You know what, get on my back and tell me, where were you going and why?

Prince Ivan told the Gray Wolf where he needs to go and Wolf ran, faster than any horse, and after some time at night brought him to the stone wall, not very tall, stopped and said:

- Well, prince Ivan, get off me, climb over this wall, behind this wall is a garden, in that garden in a golden cage sits your Firebird. Take the bird, but don't touch the cage, of you touch it, you won't get out: guards will catch you!

Prince Ivan climbed over the wall into the garden, saw the Firebird in a golden cage and really liked it. He took the Firebird out of the cage and started walking back but then stopped and told to himself:

- Why did I take the Firebird without a cage? Where would I hold it?

He's returned and just took the golden cage - and immediately sound of alarm thundered over the garden, because to that cage thin strings were attached. Guards immediately woke up, ran into the garden, caught prince Ivan with the Firebird and brought him to their tsar, tsar Dalmat.

Tsar Dalmat got very angry at Ivan and shouted at him, loud and furious:

- Shame on you, young man, for stealing! Who are you even, where are you from, what kind of father you have, and what is your name?!

Prince Ivan answered quietly:

- I'm from the Vyslav's kingdom, tsar Vyslav's son, my name is prince Ivan. Your bird used to fly to our garden every night and steal golden apples from my father's favourite apple tree, it's almost destroyed it. My father sent me to find the Firebird and bring it to him.

- Oh you, boy, prince Ivan, - said tsar Dalmat, - is it right to to our the way you've tried to? If you'd just come to me, I would've honestly have you the Firebird, but now will it be good if I send people to tell on all the other kingdoms how dishonourable you are? But listen, prince Ivan! If you do me a favour - go to the far far kingdom and bring me from tsar Afron his golden-maned stallion - I'll forgive you and even give you my Firebird, but if you won't, I'll make sure every kingdom knows you're a thief.

Prince Ivan walked away from tsar Dalmat in tears, promising to get him the golden-maned stallion.

He came to the Gray Wolf and told him about everything tsar Dalmat said.

- Oh you, young boy, prince Ivan! - said Wolf, - Why didn't you listen to me and took three golden cage?

- I'm sorry, Gray Wolf, - answered prince Ivan.

- Well, so be it! Get on my back, I'll bring you where you need to go.

Prince Ivan got into his back and Wolf ran fast, faster than arrow, and he ran for long or for short and at night they were in tsar Afron's kingdom.

When they walked to the white-stoned walls of tsar's stables, Gray Wolf told Ivan:

- Go to those white-stoned stables, prince Ivan, all guards are asleep now, and take golden-maned stallion. But don't take its golden bridle that hangs on the wall, or bad things happen to you.

Prince Ivan walked into white-stoned stables, took the stallion and just started walking back as he saw the golden bridle and liked it so much he couldn't help it but took it off the nail it was hanging on - and immediately sound of alarm broke in, because to that bridle strings were attached. Guarding ostlers woke up, ran inside, grabbed Ivan and brought him to the tsar Afron.

Tsar Afron started asking:

- You, young boy! Tell me, what land are you from, who is your father and what is your name?

Prince Ivan answered:

- I'm from tsar Vyslav's kingdom, son of tsar Vyslav, and my name is prince Ivan.

- Oh you, young boy, prince Ivan! - said tsar Afron, - Is what you've done the work for a noble knight? If you'd come to me, I would've given you my golden-maned stallion with honor. But now would it be good for you if I tell my people to make sure all the kingdoms know what bad thing you've done in my home? But listen, prince Ivan! If you make me a favour and go to the far far kingdom and bring me a princess Elena the Beautiful that I'm in love with for a long time, but can't get, I'll forgive you and even give you the stallion along with its golden bridle. And if you disagree, I'll make sure all the kingdoms know that you're a thief and what you've done here.

Ivan had to promise he'll get princess Elena the Beautiful for tsar Afron and went away from his castle in tears.

He came to the Gray Wolf and told him all that happened to him.

- Oh you, young boy, prince Ivan! - said Gray Wolf, - Why didn't you listen to what I've said, why did you take golden bridle?

- I'm very sorry, Gray Wolf, - answered prince Ivan.

- Well, you are, - said Wolf, - get on my back, I'll bring you where you need to be.

Prince Ivan got onto his back and Wolf ran, fast as an arrow, and after some time yes brought Ivan to the kingdom of Elena the Beautiful.

And when they've reached golden fence protecting the beautiful garden, Wolf told Ivan:

- Get off my back, prince Ivan, and go back the same way we came here, and wait for me in the open field under the big green oak.

Prince Ivan did as he was told. Gray Wolf sat near the golden fence waiting for Elena the Beautiful to go for a walk in her garden.

Near the evening, when the sun starved nearing the West and air became less hot, princess Elena the Beautiful went to her garden with matrons and maids. When she came close to the place Gray Wolf were sitting behind the fence, he jumped over the fence into the garden, grabbed the princess, jumped back with her and ran as fast as he could.

When he reached the open field where Ivan was waiting under the big green oak, Wolf said:

- Hurry, prince Ivan, get on my back!

Prince got onto his back and Wolf ran fast to tsar Afron's kingdom.

Matrons, maids and all the royal servants who were walking with princess Elena the Beautiful in the garden ran to the castle and immediately day the chase after the Gray Wolf, but no matter how fast hunters were - they couldn't outrun him and returned with empty hands.

Traveling on the Wolf's back with princess Elena, Ivan fell in love with her and she also fell in love with him. So when they've reached tsar Afron's kingdom and Ivan needed to bring princess Elena the Beautiful to the castle, prince got very upset and started crying.

Gray Wolf asked him:

- Why are you crying, prince Ivan?

Prince Ivan answered:

- My friend, Gray Wolf! How can't I cry? I love princess Elena with all my heart but now I have to give her to tsar Afron for the golden-maned stallion, and if I won't, tsar Afron will dishonour and humiliate me in all the kingdoms!

- I've helped you a lot, prince Ivan, - said the Gray Wolf, - might as well help you with that. Listen, prince Ivan: I'll turn into beautiful princess Elena and you will bring me to tsar Afron and take the golden-maned stallion, he'll think I'm the real princess. And when you'll get onto the stallion and ride far enough away, I'll ask tsar Afron to let me out for a walk in open field. And when he'll let me out with matrons and maids and all the royal servants, and I will be in the open field - remember me, call for me and I'll come to you again.

Gray Wolf said those words, rolled over the ground and became beautiful princess Elena, so similar noone could possibly tell where the real one.

Prince Ivan took her by the hand and went to tsar Afron, and asked the real princess to wait for him our of town.

When prince Ivan came to tsar Afron with fake princess Elena the Beautiful, tsar got very happy that he's managed to finally get a great treasure he wanted for so long. He took the fake princess and gave Ivan golden-maned stallion.

Prince Ivan sat onto the stallion, got to the forest where he left the princess, helped her to get onto the stallion with him and started his way to tsar Dalmat's kingdom.

Gray Wolf lived with tsar Afron for a day, two, three, like a beautiful princess Elena, and on the fourth day came to him asking if she can go for a walk in the field to break the sorrow. Tsar Afron said:

- Ah, my beautiful princess Elena! I would do anything for you, of course I'll let you go outside for a walk!

And immediately ordered all the matrons and maids and royal servants to go with her.

Meanwhile prince Ivan was traveling with Elena the Beautiful, talking to her and almost forgot about the Gray Wolf, but remembered and said:

- Ah, where's my Gray Wolf?

Look, out of nowhere - Wolf appeared near the prince and said:

- Get on my back, prince Ivan, and let beautiful princess ride on the golden-maned stallion.

Prince Ivan got onto the Wolf's back and they went to tsar Dalmat's kingdom. They were traveling long or short, and when they've reached the kingdom, they've stayed about the miles out of town. Prince Ivan asked Gray Wolf:

- Listen, my dear friend, Gray Wolf! You've helped me with a lot, could you help me one last time? Could you turn into the golden-maned stallion instead of the real one, because I don't want to part with it?

Gray Wolf rolled over and turned into the golden-maned stallion.

Prince Ivan left princess Elena the Beautiful with the real stallion on the green meadow, got onto the Gray Wolf and headed to the tsar Dalmat's castle.

As soon as he got there, tsar Dalmat saw Ivan riding the golden-maned stallion, became really happy, immediately left his chambers, met Ivan at the wide courtyard, kissed him, took him by the right hand and led into white-stoned chambers.

Tsar Dalmat it of joy ordered to prepare a feast, and they sat at the oak tables, embroidered tablecloths, ate, drunk and has fun for two days and in the third day tsar Dalmat gave Ivan the Firebird in a golden cage.

Prince took the Firebird, went out of town, got onto the golden-maned stallion along with princess Elena the Beautiful and headed to his homeland, to the tsar Vyslav's kingdom.

Tsar Dalmat wanted to take a walk with his new stallion in the open field. He's ordered to saddle it up, mounted and went into the open field. But as soon as he spurred on the stallion, it threw Dalmat off his back, turned into Gray Wolf and ran after prince Ivan.

- Prince Ivan! - he said, - Get on my back and let princess Elena the Beautiful ride on the golden-maned stallion.

Prince Ivan got onto Gray Wolf's back and they headed off. When they've reached the place where Wolf killed prince Ivan's horse, he's stopped and said:

- Well, prince Ivan, I've served you faithfully for long enough. On this very place I tore your horse in half and to this place I've brought you back. Get off me, now you have golden-maned stallion, get on it and go wherever you want, I'm not helping you anymore.

Gray Wolf said those words and ran away, and prince Ivan wept bitterly about him and headed off with the beautiful princess.

They were riding for long or for short with beautiful princess Elena on the golden-maned stallion, and about twenty miles out of his kingdom they've stopped to get some rest and hide from the midday sun under the tree, tied golden-maned stallion to the same tree and put the cage with Firebird on the ground near them.

They were laying on the soft grass and talking sweet things and finally fell asleep.

Meanwhile Ivan's brothers, princes Dmitry and Vasily who traveled different lands and kingdoms and couldn't find the Firebird, were returning back empty-handed. They've stumbled upon sleeping prince Ivan with princess Elena the Beautiful.

When they saw gorgeous golden-maned stallion and Firebird in a golden cage, they got jealous and conspired to kill their brother prince Ivan.

Prince Dmitry took his sword, stabbed prince Ivan and hacked his body into pieces, then they woke up the princess Elena and started asking questions:

- Beautiful girl! What kingdom are you from, and who's your father, and what's your name?

Princess Elena the Beautiful saw Ivan dead and got really scared, wept bitterly and said in tears:

- I'm princess Elena the Beautiful, prince Ivan brought me here and you've viciously killed him! If you were noble knights, you would've called him into the open field and fought him honestly, but what honour you'll get from killing him in his sleep? Fighting sleeping person like stabbing already dead!

Then prince Dmitry pointed his sword art her chest and said:

- Listen, Elena the Beautiful! You are ours now. We'll bring you to our father, tsar Vyslav, an you will tell him, that it were us who found you, the golden-maned stallion and the Firebird. If you won't tell him that, I will kill you now!

Princess Elena the Beautiful, terrified to death, promised to say what they've ordered.

Then prince Dmitry and prince Vasily decided to cast lots to determine who gets the princess and who gets the stallion. And as a result, prince Vasily got the beautiful princess and prince Dmitry took the golden-maned stallion.

Prince Vasily grabbed princess Elena and put her onto his horse, prince Dmitry got onto the golden-maned stallion and took the Firebird to bring it to the tsar Vyslav, their father, and they headed off.

Prince Ivan were laying dead there for thirty days, until Gray Wolf ran by and recognised the smell. Wolf wanted to help him, bring him back, but didn't know how.

Then Gray Wolf noticed the raven with two kids flying over the corpse going to decent and feed upon prince Ivan's meat. Gray Wolf his behind the bushes and as soon as little ravens descended and started to eat the corpse, he jumped out, grabbed one of them and wanted to tear it apart. Then raven landed near the Wolf and said:

- Oh, Gray Wolf! Don't hurt my child, he didn't do anything bad to you.

- Listen, Raven! - said the Gray Wolf, - I don't touch your child and I'll let him go if you do me a favour: fly beyond the edge of the world and bring me Water of Life and Water of Death.

Raven answered:

- I'll do it for you, just don't touch my son.

He said so and flew away.

On the third day Raven came back and brought two vials - one with Water of Life, another with Water of Death - and gave them to the Gray Wolf.

Wolf took the vials, tore little Raven in half, sprinkled him with the Water of Death, and wounds healed, sprinkled with the Water of Life - and little Raven woke up and flew away. They Gray Wolf sprinkled prince Ivan with the Water of Death and his body fused together as if was, sprinkled with the Water of Life - and prince Ivan got up and said:

- I... Was asleep for so long!

Gray Wolf answered:

- Yes, prince Ivan, if it wasn't for me, you would've never woke up, because your brothers hacked you in pieces and took princess Elena the Beautiful, golden-maned stallion and the Firebird. You need to hurry home - your brother prince Vasily is doing to marry your bride today, the beautiful princess Elena. To make it faster, get on my back, I'll bring you there.

Prince Ivan got onto the Gray Wolf, Wolf bolted to the Vyslav's kingdom and soon ran to the town.

Prince Ivan got off the Wolf's back, went into town, came to the castle and saw his brother, prince Vasily marrying princess Elena the Beautiful, already walked from the altar and sits with her at the table.

Prince Ivan walked in and as soon as princess Elena saw him, she's ran out of the table, kissed him on the lips and shouted:

- This is my beloved groom, prince Ivan, and not the villain that sits at the table!

Tsar Vyslav stood up and asked princess Elena, what do her words mean, what she's talking about? And princess told him all the truth, what happened: how prince Ivan found her, got the golden-maned stallion and the Firebird, how his older brothers killed him in his sleep and threatened her to tell lies.

Tsar Vyslav got very angry at his sons, threw them into dungeon, and prince Ivan married princess Elena the Beautiful, and they've lived long with love and friendship so strong they couldn't part even for a minute.

The end.

[takaraphoenix]

Fairy Tale Recap: Prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf

Russians really like catching firebirds. Just ask Ivan. It’s such a wild ride.

Ivan has to catch a firebird, because it had been stealing golden apples from his dad and his dad now really wants to own the firebird.

Ivan’s two older brothers went on the journey before him and failed miserably.

Ivan succeeds, because a talking wolf eats his horse. Yeah. That. The wolf, someho Fairy Tale Recap: w feeling indebted to Ivan, agrees to accompany and help him.

As the Dumb Protagonist, Ivan fails miserably at listening to the wolf’s instructions though.

So he is caught when he tries to steal the bird. The king says he can have the bird, if he brings them a golden-maned horse.

He goes and tries to steal the golden-maned horse, but again failes due to not listening to the wolf’s instructions.

The king says he can have the golden-maned horse, if he brings the king a bride - Princess Helen.

Ivan goes and gets the princess, finally listening to the wolf, and obviously falls in love with her.

The wolf, being too good to be true, turns into the princess so he can be exchanged for the golden-maned horse.

Then, the wolf sneakily sneaks out and flees with Ivan and Helen, to then turn into the golden-maned horse so they can play the same trick to get the firebird.

Now you’d think Ivan, his bride, his golden-maned horse and dad’s new firebird could return home, right?

Nope. Ivan’s older brothers are super not happy with this, so they obviously murder Ivan so one brother can have his bride and the other can have his throne - which, by the way, dad promised the one who can bring him the firebird.

Thankfully, Ivan has an incredibly resourceful talking wolf friend, who just uses the Water of Life to revive him so Ivan can go and marry his princess and the wolf gets to eat Ivan’s asshole brothers. Win/win, am I right?

[lakecoded]

princes in fairytales are fucking stupid. just listen to what the talking animals are telling you

[di4bl4-c0mpl3x]

BOOKS I WANT TO READ

-The new me (Halle butler)

-The silent patient (Alex michelides)

-The language of fanaticism (Amanda montel)

-A room of one’s own (Virginia wolfe)

-Norwegian wood (murakami)

-The picture of Dorian gray

- All the bad apples (folwley-Doyle)

-They never learn (layne fargo)

-The poppy war (R F Kuang)

-Baise-Moi (Virginie Despentes)

- Some kind of happiness (Claire L)

-Her body and other parties (Carmen Machado)

-Luster (Raven Lailani)

-Happy Hour (Marlowe Granados)

-Ghosts (Dolly Alderton)

-Dead poets society

-Alone with you in the ether (Olivia blake)

-Queens gambit

-Last words from montmarte (Qiu Miaojin)

-The perks of being a wallflower

-Turtles all the way down (John green)

-The yellow wallpaper (charlotte Gilman)

-Nausea (Jean Paul Sartre)

-Of dogs and walls (Yukio Tsushima)

-Hamlet

- Brain on fire by Susanna Callahan

-The Art of starving by Sam J Miller

-So sad today by Melissa Broder

- Looking for Alaska by John Green

-Are you listening by Tilly warden

-Bluet by Maggie Nelson

- The woman destroyed by Simone Beauvoir

- The white book by Han Kang

-Vegetarian by Han Kang

-It ends with us by Colleen Hoover

- We were liars by E Lockhart

- Beyond good and evil by Nietzsche

-The death of Ivan Ilyich

- Love me at my worst by Michaela angemeer

- The perfect gas by Emma Rous

- Girls of a certain age by aria alderman

- Severance by Ling Ma

- The art of war

- The story of philosophy by will Durant

- The war of world HG Wells

- We by Yevgeny Zamyatin

- Why am i so clever fredich Nietzsche

- A clockwork orange

-In praise of shadows by Jun’Ichiro Tanizaki

- The cruel prince

- Seduction by Robert Greene

- Hereditary by Ari Aster

-The witch by Robert eggers

- Normal people by sally roone

- I am watching you by Teresa Driscoll

- Her by Brittany king

- Before she lied by Adrienne Leigh

-If we were Villains (M L Rio)

BOOKS I HAVE

-On earth we’re briefly gorgeous (ocean vuong)

-Just kids (patti smith)

-The little friend (Donna tartt)

-Death in her hands (otessa moshfeg)

- Speak (Laurie Anderson)

-The secret history (Donna tartt)

- The goldfinch (Donna tartt)

-Eileen (moshfeg)

- A little life

- Girl interrupted

-Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

-The trouble with being born

- Eileen by moshfeg

-The 48 laws of power

- Gone girl by Gillian Flynn

-Death in her hands by moshfeg

[franticbindings]

The Volkovs

(Illustration for the Fairy Tale of Ivan Tsarevich, the Firebird, and the Gray Wolf, 1902, Ivan Yakovlevich Bilibin)

There is a traditional tale about a prince who sought a firebird for his father, and the shapeshifting wolf who helped him in his task. The version I am familiar with ends after the prince is wed to a princess and his wicked brothers are punished for their crimes. The Volkov family tells a similar story, and the story of what happened after; the wolf took a man’s shape to stay by the prince’s side when he became king, used his magic to help him rule, and in time began a family of his own - some say with the king that he loved, and some say with a courtier. They say that when the king died and it seemed the people would turn against the wolf and his children, he led his family across the water to settle in Town, where they would not be considered so strange.

I don’t know if they’re descended from the wolf from the story I know, but the Volkovs bear the marks of a similar heritage in their features and their magic. Most of them only have a touch of the wolf in their appearance - something like yellow eyes, sharp teeth, elongated ears or fur on some of their body; occasionally one has all of those and more, or is even born as a wolf and needs magic to take a human shape. Unlike the Tenko, many people find their features fearsome or intimidating rather than cute or aesthetic. They’ve got their admirer’s though.

You can find them out in the Walking Fields where there’s room to run, and you can hear them howling on clear nights. If you meet them you might be intimidated at first - they’re big, a little wild, and standoffish around strangers; but they’re the kind to offer more help than you’d expect, especially if you’ve a noble heart or a fool’s nature. If you have both of those, don’t be surprised if you end up with one or more Volkovs interested in you, romantically or otherwise. Many of them are proficient with the shape changing magic of their ancestor, and can be seen roaming in groups on two legs or four. More rarely, some of them have an uncanny sense of timing and the knack of foreseeing danger; people in the Walking Fields say that if a Volkov gives you advice or a warning you should listen. Their word is gospel when it comes to when to plant and when to harvest; since they came to Town, the Walking Fields has almost never lost a crop that could have been saved by planting later or harvesting earlier. They keep records about what they’ve divined about the future - not so much a list of prophecies as a catalog of opportunities; perfect moments for a task that one of them thought was worth doing.

They’ve taken it upon themselves to oppose the Riders who come to hunt and kill in the Walking Fields, whenever they can. Their magic means that they’ve got a knack for only getting involved when they’ve got a chance at winning, so they do better than you might think against such terrible foes. If you find yourself running from the Great Hunt and you see a wolf - follow it! 

(Superior) Wolfkin

The Volkov’s connection to their wolven heritage extends to the flesh and blood of them, and this skill covers the ways they are like wolves.

Wolfkin 0: You are not even a little wolflike. 

Wolfkin 1: You are touched by your heritage in subtle but noticeable ways. You have a wolf-like physical feature such as yellow eyes, sharper teeth, pointed ears, the ability to make canine vocalization or fur on some of your body. Your hearing and sense of smell are sharper than a human’s. 

Wolfkin 2: The mark of the wolf is blatant upon you. You likely have most of the features described in Wolfkin 1 and might even have a tail, blunt claws instead of fingernails or a posture that can run on all fours without discomfort. You’re enough stronger and faster than a human that this skill is worth 1 edge when that matters. Your hearing range extends high enough that you can listen to Fortitude Rats talk secretly amongst themselves and sensitive enough you can hear things a mile away. Your sense of smell is 25 times stronger than a human’s.

Wolfkin 3: You have the body and senses of a wolf. Your hearing range extends even higher and further, out to 6 miles in a forest or further without obstructions. Your sense of smell is 100 times stronger than a human’s, enough to track something across a forest, or smell something miles away when the wind is in your favor. You’re not capable of human speech, and have paws instead of hands. 

I’m not sure what Wolfkin 4 or 5 looks like!

This skill also serves as a mundane skill for doing wolflike things like running, hunting, smelling and listening. It can sometimes grant part of its edge when doing things in concert with other people with this skill; Wolfkin working together to hunt something probably get their full edge; playing a team sport probably tops out at 1.

Hunter's Magic

Almost all of the Volkovs I know have a little bit of their magic, and being more proficient isn’t uncommon. They’re usually more skilled in one of the two different branches; the more common one is the ability to take on other shapes, most typically that of a wolf (or a human, if they’re normally a wolf) but they can take other shapes as well. Some of them are more proficient with their gift for foresight, which doesn’t tell them what will happen but when to try something and what to watch out for. 

Non-Magical Techniques [Obstacle 0] Understand canine body language. [Obstacle 0+] Communicate without words.  [Obstacle 1] Recognize nobility.

Transformation Magic [Obstacle 1] Make yourself more intimidating, impressive or commanding. [Obstacle 1] Sharpen your senses. [Obstacle 1] Speak with a human voice while in a form that normally can’t. [Obstacle 2] Take the shape of a wolf or change back to your human shape. [Obstacle 3] Take other human or animal shapes.

Planning Magic [Obstacle 1] Learn if it is an auspicious hour for a specific task. [Obstacle 1] Learn if there is some unknown danger facing a specific task. [Obstacle 2] Learn in a general sense when the next good time for a specific task is. [Obstacle 2] Gain a useful hint about an unknown danger that faces a specific task. [Obstacle 3] Learn the best time for a specific task, and why.

Bonds

If I’ve wronged you, I’ll move heaven and earth to make it right. I’m drawn to the foolish and the noble. My senses are sharp.* I’m stronger than you.* I’m faster than you.* Sometimes I forget what shape I’m in. I wear as little clothing as I can get away with. I avoid speaking if at all possible. My dinner has to include something I caught myself. I put off doing things until the perfect moment. I can’t use my magic to learn about things I’m going to do myself. I worry excessively about the future. I like to give piggy back rides.

Afflictions

I give really good advice. I don’t make empty threats. I turn into a wolf at night. I turn into a wolf if I get too scared or angry. I heal very quickly.* My fur protects me from the power of the outside.

Credit to Jenna Moran for the starred bonds/afflictions, which I borrowed from the Vampire writeup in the Fortitude book.

[leebird-simmer]

Russian Fairy Tales Test Prep: The Influence of Fairy Tales on Russian Visual Culture, pt. 3

III. Folk-Inspired Russian Painters

Self-portrait (1873), Viktor Vasnetsov

Viktor Vasnetsov (1848-1926) was born into the family of a priest, and received his first drawing lessons in the Vyatsky Seminary in the early 1860s. In 1867 he moved to St. Petersburg and enrolled in the Drawing School of the Society for the Encouragement of the Arts, where he was mentored by Ivan Kramskoy of the Wanderers’ School (Peredvizhniki), which rejected the classicism of the Russian Academy. While Vasnetsov did finish his studies at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts (1868–75), he later went on to join the Peredvizhniki in 1878.

Moving House (1876), Viktor Vasnetsov

The Wanderer’s School was anti-academic, with a focus on realism. They held mobile exhibitions throughout the 1870s, spotlighting rural artists who were typically shunned by “the scene” and helping impoverished artists find paying clients. Their preferred subjects were social inequalities, the lives of the common people, and the Russian landscape.

Knight at the Crossroads (1878), Viktor Vasnetsov

Flying Carpet (1880), Viktor Vasnetsov

Prince Ivan Riding the Gray Wolf (1889), Viktor Vasnetsov

The Snow Maiden (1889), Viktor Vasnetsov

The Bogatyrs (1898), Viktor Vasnetsov

Savior Church (1881-1882), Viktor Vasnetsov & Vasily Polenov

Viktor Vasnetsov was not only a painter, but an architect as well. He was involved in the “Russian Revival” movement, a response to western European architecture that imagined an “authentic” Russian architecture based on folk art, fairy tales, and medieval Byzantine architecture. This lovely little church still stands at the former artists’ colony of Abramtsevo, where Viktor and his brother Apollinary lived and worked.

The Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow (1902-1904), Viktor Vasnetsov

The Viktor Vasnetsov House Museum

FINALLY, Viktor Vasnetsov was also a fashion designer; he created the budenovka: the official helmet/hat of the Red Army, based on the headgear of the bogatyrs.

Portrait of Ivan Bilibin (1901), Boris Kustodiev

Ivan Bilibin (1876-1942) was a painter, illustrator, and set designer. He was educated in St. Petersburg and Munich. He was heavily influenced by Vasnetsov and the folklore of Northern Russia. He was also influenced by traditional Japanese prints and Renaissance woodcuts.

After the October Revolution of 1917, Bilibin traveled for quite some time, first painting Byzantine-style art in Cairo, where the Greek colony demanded icons and frescoes, then later in Paris, where he began decorating private mansions and Orthodox churches. Longing for his home, he returned to Russia in 1936, vowing never to leave again. Bilibin starved to death during the Siege of Leningrad and was buried in a mass grave.

Prince Ivan, the Firebird, and the Gray Wolf (1899), Ivan Bilibin

The Frog Princess (1900), Ivan Bilibin

Maria Morevna (1900), Ivan Bilibin

Illustration from Volga (1904), Ivan Bilibin

[trans-and-baby-names]

Masculine Names

Aaron  Abdul Abe  Abel Abraham  Abram Ace Achilles  Adair Adam Adonis Adrian Adriel  Ahmed Ajax Ajay Aiden Alan Albert Alejandro Alex Alexander Alfonso Alfred Alistair Alister Allen  Alonzo Amadeo Amadeus Amani Amari Ambrose Amir Anders  Anderson Andre Andreas Andrew Andy Angel Angelo Angus Ansel  Anson Anthony Antonio Apollo Aries Archer Archie Aristotle Arlo  Arnaldo Arnold Arsenio Arthur Arturo Arwin Asa Asher Aslan Atlas  Atticus Aubrey August Augustin Augustine Augustus Aurelio Aurelius Austin Axel  Aziz

Balthazar  Bane Barnabas  Barnaby Barney Baron  Barrett Basil Bastian  Bear Beau Beck Ben Benjamin  Benji Bentley Bernard Bertram Bertrand  Blake Blaze Blue Bobby Bodhi Booker Boris  Boston Bowie Boyd Brad Bradford Bradley Bram  Bramwell Bran Brandon Brandt Braxton Braylen Brayden Brendon  Brent Brett Brian Briar Brick Bridge Bridger Brock Brody Brogan  Bronx Brook Brooks Bruce Bruno Brutus Bryce Bryson Buck Bud Buddha  Buddy Buck Burt Burton Buster Buzz Byron 

Cade  Caden Cain  Cairo Caius Calder  Caleb Callum Calvin Cam  Cameron Camillo Campbell Carl  Carlisle Carlito Carlo Carlos Carlton  Carmine Carson Carter Casper Caspian Cassian  Cassias Cato Cecil Cedar Cedric Cesar Chad Chadwick  Chance Charles Charlton Chase Chauncey Chester Chidi Chip  Christoff Christoph Christopher Christian Chuck Cian Cillian  Clarence Clark Claud Clay Clayton Cliff Clifford Clint Clinton  Clyde Coby Cody Colby Cole Collin Colt Colton Conan Connor Conrad  Constantine Cooper Copper Corbin Cornelius Cory Cosmo Cosmos Costas Craig Crispin Cruz Curt Curtis Cyrus

Dale  Dallas  Dalton Damien  Damon Dan Dane Daniel  Dante Darius Darrel Darren  Dash Dashiell Davey David Dawson  Dax Daxton Deacon Dean DeAndre Declan  Demetrius Denali Dennis Denny Denzel Derek  Derrick Des Desmond Dewey Dex Dexter Diego Diesel  Dion Dirk Dixon Dmitri Dominic Donatello Donovan Dorian  Doug Douglas Draco Drew Duke Duncan Dustin Dusty Dwayne Dwight  Dylan Dyson 

Earl  Easton  Edgar Edmund  Eduardo Edward Edwin  Egon Eli Elijah Elias  Elliott Ellis Elroy Elton  Emanuel Emeric Emerson Emery  Emil Emiliano Emmett Emrys Enrique  Enzo Eric Ernest Ernesto Ernie Esteban  Ethan Eugene Eustace Euvan Evan Evander Everett  Ezekiel Ezra 

Fabian  Fabio Falcon  Faustus Felix Ferdinand  Fergus Ferguson Fernando Fidel  Fido Finbar Findlay Finn Finnley  Fionn Fisher Fitz Fletcher Flint Florence  Florian Ford Forrest Fort Foster Fowler Fox  Francesco Francis Francisco Franco Frank Frankie  Franklin Fred Freddy Fredrick Frederico

Gabe  Gabriel  Gael Gage  Gale Galen Garfield Garrett Gaston Gatsby  Gavin Geoffrey Geordie George  Gerald Gerard Gideon Gil Gilbert  Gilberto Giovanni Glenn Gordon Gordy  Grady Graham Grant Gray Grayson Gregg  Gregory Grey Griffin Griffith Grover Gunner  Gunther Gus Gustavo Guy 

Hades  Hal Hamilton  Hank Hans Harley Harrison  Harry Hawk Hayden Hayes Heath Hector  Henrik Hendrix Henry Herb Herbert Herbie  Hercules Hermes Hershel Hiram Holden Howard  Howie Hudson Hugo Humphrey Hunter Hux Huxley 

Ian Igor Iker Irvin Isaac Isaiah Ivan 

Jace  Jack Jackson  Jacob Jaques Jaden  Jake Jalen Jamal James  Jameson Jared Jason Jax  Jay Jed Jedidiah Jefferson  Jeffrey Jeremiah Jeremy Jerome  Jerry Jesus Jethro Jett Jim Jimmy  Joe Joel Johan Johannes John Johnny Jonah  Jonas Jonathan Jones Jordan Jose Joseph Joshua  Josiah Juan Juanito Judah Judas Judd Jude Jules Julian  Julien Julio Julius Junior Jupiter Jurgen Justice Justin Justus 

Kaden  Kai Kaiser  Kale Kaleb Kane  Keane Keanu Keaton  Keegan Keenan Keith  Kellen Kenan Kendrick  Kenneth Kenzo Keoni Kevin Khalid  Kian Kieran Kiernan Kingsley Kingston Killian  Kip Kwan Kyle

Lachlan  Lake Lamar  Lance Lancelot  Landon Lane Larkin  Larry Lars Laurence Laurent  Lawrence Lawson Lazlo Legend Leif  Leith Leland Leo Leon Leonardo Leopold  Leroy Levi Liam Lincoln Linden Logan Loki  London Lonnie Lonny Lorcan Lorenzo Lou Louie  Louis Luc Luca Lucas Lucian Lucky Luke Lupe Luther

Maddox  Maksim Malachi  Malachy Malakai Malcolm  Malik Manfred Manny Marcel Marcello  Marcellus Marcio Marcius Marco Marcos  Marcus Marian Marino Mario Marius Mark  Marlin Marlon Marmaduke Marques Mars Marshall  Martin Marty Marvel Marvin Massimo Mason Matt Matteo  Matthew Maurice Maverick Max Maximilian Maximus Maxwell  Melvin Mercury Meredith Merritt Micah Michael Miguel Miles  Milo Mitchell Moe Monte Montgomery Murdoch Murphy Murray Murtagh  Murtaugh Myles

Nathan  Nathaniel  Ned Nelson  Nemo Neo Neon  Neptune Neville  Newt Newton Nick  Nicky Nicola Nicolai  Nicholas Niko Noah Noel Nolan  Norm Norman Novak 

Obadiah  Octavio Octavius  Odin Olaf Oleg Oliver  Olivier Omar Orion Orlando  Orville Osborn Oscar Oso Osvaldo  Oswald Ottis Otto Owen Oz Ozzy

Pablo  Palmer Panther  Parker Pascal Patrick Paul  Paxton Pedro Penn Percival Percy Perseus  Peter Peyton Phil Philip Phineas Phoenix Pier  Pierce Pierre Pilot Pluto Porter Poseidon Preston  Prince Prosper

Qadir  Quincy Quinn  Quinton 

Raiden  Ralph Ramone  Ramses Randall Randolph  Randy Raphael Ravi Ray Raymond Red  Reece Reggie Reginald Regis Reid Remington  Reuben Rex Reynald Reynaldo Reynard Rhett Rhys  Ricardo Richard Richie Richmond Rick Ricky Rico Ridge  Riley Rio Riordan River Robert Roberto Robbie Rocco Rocky  Rodney Rodrigo Roger Ricky Riley Rod Rodrick Roger Roland  Roman Romeo Ross Rowan Rudy Rufus Russell Ryder Ryker Rylan Ryland 

Salem  Salvador  Salvator Sam  Samir Sampson Samson  Samuel Sander Sandford Sanjay  Santiago Saul Sawyer Scott Sean Sebastian  Septimus Serge Sergio Seth Seus Seymour Shane  Shawn Shayne Sheldon Shepherd Sherlock Sherman Shin Sidney  Sigmund Silas Silver Silvester Simon Sinclair Sinjin Sirius  Slade Slate Sol Solomon Sonny Sparrow Spartacus Spencer Spike  Soren Stan Stanford Stanley Steele Stephen Steven Stevie Stone Sven Summit  Sullivan Sully Sylvester

Tad  Tag Talon  Tanner Tate  Ted Teddy Teo Teodor  Teodoro Terence Terrell  Terry Tex Thad Thaddeus Thane  Thatcher Theo Theoden Theodore Thomas  Thor Thorn Tiberius Tiger Tito Titus Timothy  Titus Tobias Toby Tommy Tony Topher Trace Travis  Trent Trenton Trev Trevor Trey Tristan Troy Truman Tucker  Tudor Tullio Tullius Tully Tycho Tyler Tyrell Tyrese Tyrone  Tyson

Uberto  Ulric Ulrich  Ulysses Uriah Urban Urijah  Uriel

Van  Vance  Vaugn Victor  Vince Vincenco Vincent  Vinny Virgil Vlad Vladimir 

Wade  Walden  Waldo Walker  Wallace Wally Walt  Walter Warner Warren  Watson Waylon Wayne Wendall  Wesley Westley Weston Wilbert  Wilbur Wilder Wiley Wilfred Will William  Winston Wolf Wolfe Wolfgang Woodrow Wyatt 

Xander  Xavier Xavion  Xenon

Yael  Yahir York Yosef  Yousef Yusef

Zac  Zach Zachariah  Zacharias Zachary Zack  Zander Zane Zayden Zeke  Zeus Ziggy Zion Zoltan

[selena-snape]

Familia Snape

Primera Generación:

¤ Morphin Nikolai Snape y Tallulah Aurelia Snape

Segunda generación:

¤ Ilona Octavia Snape y Viktor Kirtking Snape

¤ Bellona Demetria Snape y Aurelius Amadeus Willowdee

¤ Tanith Marcellina Snape y Albion Casimir Snape

Tercera Generación:

¤ Gabriel Soren Snape y Conan Levi Malfoy

¤ Sonja Cassandra Snape y Lucian Rowland Snape

¤ Selene Belladona Snape y Michael Thomas Corvin

¤ Morgana Drucilda Willowdee y Octavius Mortifer Dollins

¤ Belvina Anastasia Willowdee y Alexander Andreas Kane

¤ Silvanus Alestair Snape y Minerva Dorinda Primrose

¤ Cornelius Devereux Snape y Nocturna Evelyn Nightwood

¤ Almeric Lazarus Snape y Amarah Senka Lonwood

¤ Esperanza Medea Snape y Mereida Azura Blackwood

¤ Theodocia Isidora Snape y Centar Ismaband Blackwood

Cuarta Generación:

¤ Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore y Gellert Amadeus Grindelwald

¤ Aberforth Florian Leighton Soren Dumbledore y Belvina Vega Black

¤ Ariana Odolette Wilhemina Dumbledore y Arcturus II Alioth Black

¤ Tom Marvolo Riddle y Kara Sonia Milford

¤ Valens Basilius Snape y Charles Hunter Levin

¤ Tobias Vincent Snape y Eileen Aiko Prince

¤ Pamela Demetria Malfoy y Elias Paul Voorhees

¤ Abraxas Ariel Malfoy y Renatha Edith Oswald

¤ Evageline Ethel Malfoy y Lazarus Granville Sparda

¤ Bianca Brooke Di Angelo y Thalia Eliza Grace

¤ Nico Ethan Di Angelo y Perseus Lorcan Jackson

¤ Theodore Lev Snape y Marcus Casimir Corvinus

¤ Ethan Joseph Snape y David Monsse Conberg

¤ Eve Ilaria Corvin y Logan Brad Fowler

¤ Raymond Vincent Dollins y Juliette Umbra Walker

¤ Sebastian Andrew Dollins y Adrianna Asura Walker

¤ Micah Vladimir Dollins y Raven Tenebra Walker

¤ Benjamin Caleb Kane y Aaron Leonard Luthor

¤ Natalie Eileen Snape y Bastian Abraxas Prince

¤ Octavian Demetrius Snape y Abigail Aura Cooper

¤ Percival Valentine Snape y Willow Delilah Lake

¤ Archibald August Snape y Phineas Atticus Moose

¤ Piper Delilah Snape y Alvin Nicholas Dream

¤ Flora Alyssandra Snape y Louis William Afton

¤ Colette Silver Snape y Kenneth Horace Orville

¤ Nikolaus Rafferty Snape y Nika Dominika Winston

¤ Evageline Danica Blackwood y Claude Tobias Harley

¤ Gabrielle Victoria Blackwood y Gideon Silas Murphy

¤ Belladona Tabitha Blackwood y Quentin Ulysses Orson

¤ Nimue Andromeda Blackwood y Balthasar Ignatius Fitzhugh

¤ Valtor Phoenix Blackwood y Ninette Madeline Sutton

¤ Dimitry Avalon Blackwood y Thalassa Estelle Rex

Quinta Generación:

¤ Credence Aurelius Dumbledore y Lycoris Lyra Black

¤ Modesty Orianna Dumbledore y Michelle Caroline Miller

¤ Valentine Desmond Dumbledore y Leroy Samuel Cooley

¤ Octavius Theodore Dumbledore y Minerva Ursula Parker

¤ Cassandra Eliza Dumbledore y Zivar Pollux Galanford

¤ Callidora Eridanis Black y Harfang Ernest Longbottom

¤ Cedrella Oriana Black y Septimus Ronald Weasley

¤ Charis Scorpia Black y Caspar Dorian Crouch

¤ Trish Clarice Riddle y "Lady" Mary Ann Arkham

¤ Vanessa Octavia Riddle y Tom Spencer Peters

¤ Delphinie Savannah Riddle y Serena Angelette Denford

¤ Dominika Hazel Levin y Thomas Downey Richardson

¤ Vincent Alexander Levin y Daphne Rosie Campbell

¤ Niven Finnian Levin y River Aura Stone

¤ Malorie Estella Levin y Ivan Adonis Novak

¤ Severus Tobias Snape y Ulaz Devereux Snape

¤ Ryou Nathan Snape y Krolia Serenity Kogane

¤ Jason Ezra Voorhees y Michael Gideon Myers

¤ Diana Madeline Voorhees y Mason Samuel Kimble

¤ Lucius Abraxas Malfoy y Narcissa Meissa Black

¤ William Joseph Dixon y Cassandra Allegra Lewis

¤ Vergil Amon Sparda y Faith Mackenzie Myron

¤ Dante Alastor Sparda y Hope Catherine Myron

¤ Victor Jethro Grace y Ryan Christopher Everett

¤ Aurelia Peregrine Grace y Sebastian Artemis Jensen

¤ Ian Mason Jackson y Bellona Damara Huxley

¤ Ada Demetria Jackson y Azura Jasmine Brooks

¤ Kitty Xanthe Jackson y Charlotte Marcellina Donovan

¤ Sansa Calypso Corvinus y Thomas Nicholas Parkinson

¤ September Lev Corvinus y Tanith Amara Walker

¤ Flora Pandora Snape y Xenophilius Leland Lovewood

¤ Thora Margot Fowler y Marc Anthony Marcelly

¤ Lyra Beatrix Fowler y Lorenzo Finnian Donnelly

¤ Morgan Ariella Fowler y Nolan Cassander Delaney

¤ Ruby Hilda Dollins y Miles Oliver Corwin

¤ Luna Stephanie Dollins y Theon August Dresden

¤ Noah Jonah Dollins y Helena Roxane Ansel

¤ Stanford Nathaniel Dollins y Nita Evelyn Paxton

¤ Mortimer Morphin Dollins y Martin Jonathan Flint

¤ Elizabeth Tallulah Dollins y Valens Vatlos Braken

¤ Janeth Mirella Dollins y Stefano Nova Fox

¤ Arya Eloise Kane y Constatine Nikolai Hudson

¤ Angelette Lucille Kane y Yuri Vladimir Ivanovich

¤ Azrael Finnian Kane y Luciana Angela Ortiz

¤ Niven Ezra Kane y Mikhaila Juniper Orion

¤ Carlisle Damien Kane y Serena Laurel Ranger

¤ Basilius Sebastian Prince y Ida Scarlett Lennox

¤ Felix Robert Prince y Jane Ophelia Miller

¤ Jasper Wyatt Prince y Marlene Elora Lawson

¤ Edward Henry Prince y Selene Stella Harper

¤ Adrien Scott Snape y Calliope Ivory Bronx

¤ Raphael Patrick Snape y Mirah Colette Cain

¤ Richard Lawrence Snape y Galilea Lyra Dexter

¤ Francine Eliza Snape y Michael Francis Oakley

¤ Connie Violet Snape y Tallulah Vera Lake

¤ Melissa Barbara Snape y Eugene Jordan Morrinson

¤ Morticia Moira Snape y Kiyoko Asahina

¤ Morterius Mortimer Snape y Reina Matsumoto

¤ Jeremy Vincent Dream y Sabrina Addison Riley

¤ Nathan Samuel Dream y Piper Aurora Harrow

¤ Bruce Steven Dream y Nicolette Grace Tyson

¤ Adeliza Morigan Afton y Emmett Blake Cartet

¤ Daemon October Afton y Darrel Cael Ossory

¤ Violetta Ursuline Afton y Jeffrey Hunter Jefferson

¤ Minerva Rowena Afton y Leonard Robert Leighton

¤ Doria Judith Orville y Dominic Alexander Edevane

¤ Ryan Joshua Orville y Alice Isidora Jones

¤ Agatha Rachel Orville y Jeremiah Andrew Evans

¤ Carlotta Katherine Snape y Owen Stephen O'Kelly

¤ Ethan Elijah Harley y Larissa Daphne Davis

¤ Giovanni Mortimer Harley y Ariel Danica O'Ryan

¤ Vincent Oliver Harley y Amelie Luna Roberts

¤ Bastian Lynx Murphy y Arya Ruby Forrest

¤ Theodore Niven Murphy y Ursa Aries Black

¤ Dominika Valda Murphy y Arthur Russel Glenwood

¤ Callista Eliza Orson y Callista Addison McCoy

¤ Morterius Finnian Orson y Jessamine Robinia Bathory

¤ Victoria Hilda Orson y Sabine Belladona Volkov

¤ Margot Elizabeth Orson y Pietro Leroy Carrington

¤ Riven Alexander Blackwood y Petra Victoria Hayden

¤ River Stella Blackwood y Jasper August Moore

¤ Chloe Henrietta Blackwood y Griffin Cyrus Lexington

¤ Vanessa Tabitha Blackwood y Miles Herman Goodwin

¤ Ivan Septimus Blackwood y Rosie Olive Brown

¤ Amadeus Artemas Blackwood y Hariett Emily de Loughrey

Sexta Generación:

¤ Lilith Moira Riddle y Julian Cameron Gray

¤ Bloom Larissa Peters y Sky Aurelius

¤ Hazel Opal Peters y Magnus Roman Watson

¤ Theodore August Peters y Meredith Mavis Monroe

¤ Cora Stephanie Riddle y

¤ Arabella Diane Riddle y

¤ Francis Ezra Riddle y

¤ Aaron Christopher Riddle y Verena Michelle Dyer

¤ Joshua Stephen Riddle y Esther Amalia Holt

¤ Charles Samuel Riddle y Ruby Stephanie Saffron

¤ Iris Aurelia Riddle y Marshal Everett Conrad

¤ Theophania Calliope Richardson y Corinne Roxanne Everleigh

¤ Arabella Beatrix Richardson y Henry Oliver Brookes

¤ Kai Dominick Richardson y Flynn Milo Wolf

¤ Willow Cosima Levin y Nicoletta Pomona Wilford

¤ Fern Violet Levin y Marie Honoria Ollivander

¤ Euphemia Alessandra Levin y Jhon Florean Palmer

¤ Dorothea Giovanna Levin y Elladora Eloise Gibson

¤ Salazar Lucius Levin y Holly Avalon Barnes

¤ Eleanor Hope Levin y Savannah Genevieve Shaw

¤ Gracie Isadora Novak y Marvin Declan Sullivan

¤ Alec Aurelian Novak y Claire Piper Johan

¤ Mason Ezekiel Novak y Clementine Octavia Albion

1)¤ Lotor Comet Snape y Raphael Percival Rosier

2)¤ "Moon Demon" Darius Angelo Snape y "Dark Angel " Arianne Alysson Snape

3)¤ "Killer Shadow" Lazarus Ignatius Snape y "Ice Demon" Urania Calliope Snape

¤ Morterius Viktor Snape y Hisirdoux Artemas Casperan

4)¤ Regris Niven Snape y Acxa Valda Snape

5)¤ Kevin Ethan Snape y Gwendolyn Stephanie Tennyson

6)¤

7)¤

8)¤ Regulus Orion Snape y Abel Austin Khemse

9)¤ Cygnus Arcturus Snape y Frederic Alistair Weasley

10)¤ Elle Rigel Snape y Matsuda Touta

11)¤ Beyond Aurelian Snape y Mikami Teru

12)¤

13)¤

14)¤

15)¤ Alexander Valens Snape y Magnus Sebastian King

16)¤ Lysander Nikolaus Snape y Vladimir Micah Masters

16)¤

17)¤

18)¤

19)¤

¤ Keith Akira Snape y James Oliver Griffin

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[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 1

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: none

Chapter word count: 3.5k

A/N: The real Paul I of Russia was kind of a jerk and came to such a sticky end (assassinated by his own officers) that I couldn't think of something realistic or historically accurate for him, so I had to put him into an AU. Plus, I've always loved Slavic fairy tales/folk tales, and it's been really fun working them into a fic. This is mostly based on Prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf, but there are elements from other tales as well.

I include a few Russian words for authenticity's sake. In case the meaning isn't clear from the text itself, there will be a translation at the bottom of the chapter.

Chapter 1

Once upon a time...

That is how these things often start, isn't it? Very well, then that is how we shall begin our tale.

Once upon a time, across thrice-nine lands, in a thrice-tenth kingdom, there lived a prince named Paul, a tsarevich, as sons of emperors and empresses of that land were called. Paul was the sole heir to a vast and powerful empire, but to own the truth, unlike the princes of the old stories, Paul himself was not noble or heroic, both in appearance and temperament. He could have been quite handsome if he had let his natural features shine instead of hiding them under the fashionable rouge and powder of those days. He could have been quite charming if his behaviors and expressions were a little more agreeable. He wished to rule but didn't know how or care to learn. He simply assumed that respect and power were owed him, and turned sulky and surly when he didn't get them, which was all the time.

Well, who could blame him? He was caught between two powerful and ambitious women—his father's aunt, the Empress Elizabeth, who had brought him up, and his mother, the Empress Catherine. Catherine, who had taken the throne from Paul's father, Emperor Peter, was a tenacious and ruthless ruler, and she loathed having to share her power. She kept Paul away from all matters of court and country, insisting that his sole and most important duty was to make an advantageous marriage and produce an heir for her. Perhaps she wished to raise this heir as she had not been allowed to raise Paul, and pass the throne directly onto him without having to go through her son, the son who reminded her so much of her feeble-minded husband.

Paul didn't remember his father. He was overthrown when Paul was just a boy, and died soon after—some said murdered by his own wife. He existed in Paul's mind less as a father and more as an abstract idea, an act of defiance against his mother.

And so Paul grew up from a sullen boy into a sullen young man, smothered by his grandmother, unloved and unwanted by his mother, and barely tolerated by the servants, for all that they waited on him hand and foot.

Yet for all his flaws, no evil thought resided in Paul's mind, no harmful desire coursed through his veins. He merely longed for his mother's affection, or, failing that, her acceptance. He longed, like any young man did, to prove his worth. But what was his worth? And how could he prove it, if he didn't know what it was?

As I've said, the empire to which Paul was heir is a vast one. Just how vast, nobody quite knows. It stretches from East to West, from ocean to ocean, and contains the loftiest, iciest mountains and the flattest, most arid steppes, the densest forests and the widest rivers. Though countless attempts had been made by cartographers and explorers to conquer its farthest reaches, many remained uncharted. Yet there are parts of the empire that very few know exist, and even fewer have seen. They stand just above the tall peaks or below the deep lakes, their entrances hidden behind a lightning-struck tree or inside a dark cavern. Look for them, and you'll never find them. During those times when the earth meets the sky, right before daybreak, on moonlit nights, or as dusk is falling, you may spy their denizens just out of the corner of your eyes, dancing in the water or flying on a magic horse, or moving about in their chicken-legged hut. But turn around to look more closely and you'll realize it's nothing but a branch breaking, a flock of birds suddenly taking flight, or a hare jumping back into its burrow.

Every child of the land knows the tales of those strange, hidden corners and their inhabitants, of Koschei the Deathless and Baba Yaga, of Ivan Tsarevich and Vasilisa the Beautiful. Paul, too, grew up with them, as told to him by an old, sad Fool dressed in motley clothes who hung about his mother's court. But as he grew older, he saw those tales as nonsense. There were always rules in the tales, but those rules never made sense. Why was it always the third prince or the youngest daughter who succeeded in their quests? Why was the orphan always aided by a wise old man or an enchanted doll or a talking horse? Well, he was an orphan of sorts—his father was dead and his mother barely even looked at him—so where was his magical helper? Then, as he grew older still, those tales were replaced by reports of conquests of foreign parts, lessons of history and politics, and whispers of how his mother had staged a coup and killed his father for the throne, of the illegitimate children she had hidden away. And so Paul had forgotten the fairy tales, dismissing them as absurd, fanciful yarn designed to fool only children. He was no longer a child; he was close to reaching his majority and must focus his attention on more serious matters.  

That was until the day he saw the firebird.

It was an early summer day in Tsarskoye Selo, the Tsar's Village. The court had recently moved to the Summer Palace there, and the Empress Catherine was spending half of her time mooning over that brainless oaf Potemkin who, blessed be the Saints, was away at war, and the other half of her time carrying it on with the even more brainless oaf Vasilchikov, in what Paul thought was a disgusting display of wantonness, unsuitable for any woman of her age, let alone an Empress. To make matters worse, Paul had turned eighteen over six months ago, yet she showed no sign of wanting to grant him more responsibility. Despite constant hints from his governor Panin and Paul himself, the Empress only gave noncommittal answers, telling Paul that he was going to inherit the throne, probably, one day, answers that meant to assure and only did the opposite. And she had taken to finding him a bride. Day after day, instead of attending the council or other court functions, he was forced to shift through miniatures after miniatures of all the major and minor princesses of Europe, searching for one that may catch his eye. In truth, none of them caught his eyes. They all looked the same, with their vacant gazes and simpering smiles, their powdered wigs and rouged cheeks. They all looked as though they were mocking him.

To escape the endless barrage of potential brides, Paul went to the barrack and gathered up his soldiers for drilling. This brigade, given to him by the Empress as a birthday present, was the one bright spot in Paul's days, but now he began to suspect, like the matter of finding a bride, it was just another way his mother sought to distract him. But at least it gave him something to do, and as he roared at the soldiers and reveled in the way they obeyed his commands, he dreamed of a day his mother may allow him to take them to war, or better yet, when she may be threatened by a coup—not a serious one, like the one that deposed his father, but a coup nonetheless, which he knew was a possibility, as many believed the empire shouldn't be ruled by a woman—and he would sweep in with his soldiers to save the day.

"My father was the father of his people," he shouted. This had been drilled into his head by his grandmother and his tutors until Paul no longer knew if it was what he truly believed or what he should believe. Both had blended into one in his mind. "And one day I will fulfill the duties and responsibilities of that role. I will lead a disciplined army of soldiers to make his dream for this great country come true!"

So perhaps it was unfortunate that his mother caught him just then.

By the thunderous look on her face as she called him into her private study, Paul knew he was in for another dressing down. His knees shook, and he hated himself for it, hated his mother for making him feel like a child. There was nothing else to do but to face her. Perhaps he could convince her and show how much he could be of use to her.

That hope disappeared the moment his mother spoke. "Are you planning your own little coup?" she barked, her sharp voice lashing at him like a whip. Paul almost cowered. He knew cowering would only bring on harsher words from his mother, so he forced himself to stand up straight. It was no use. She was relentless. "Is that what this is all about? Well you won't succeed, young man. The army is loyal to me. And the peasants will do as they are told. That is the truth." Paul was going to point out that there were talks of a peasant revolt, but his mother cut him off before he could utter a word. "It would be a terrible mistake to go against me," she snarled. "Because I know more about politics than you ever will. You would not last two minutes as a ruler!"

And whose fault is that? Paul wanted to scream. Whose fault was it that he didn't know what to do, what was expected of him? This was what his mother did, depriving him of power and agency and then admonishing him for rebelling against it. His blood boiled with the injustice of it all.

"And all your drilling with your little toy soldiers will get you nowhere at all. You see, power—power is a balancing act," she said. The gloating in her voice was more than he could bear, and he turned away again, gripping the pommel of his ceremonial sword until it dug painfully into his palm. "You have to learn how to walk the line. I would remind you always to remember from where your power, if you are ever to have any, which I doubt, will derive."

Those last few words made him pause. Did she just threaten to exclude him from succession? So she had been planning it all along, hadn't she? For all her talk about how Paul would rule one day, she had never truly wanted to share her power. He whirled around to face her, his face white with barely concealed rage.

"What do you mean, if I'm ever to have any power?" he said, biting out every word. "I shall rule! It is my birthright! You cannot deny me my birthright!"

"This is my country, you stupid boy!" Judging by her shout, it seemed his mother had realized her blunder and was trying to cover it up with a show of authority, as she always did. "Look for a bride! Get me an heir!"

"What am I to you, a breeding bull?" Paul snapped and had the brief satisfaction of seeing his mother flinch. He stormed off before she could think of a way to further punish him.

He went into his room, but the silk-covered walls and the gilded furniture felt like a cage closing in on him, making it hard to breathe. Tears of anger and frustration stung his eyes, and they fuelled the flame of his rage even more. He was a prince, and old enough to be Emperor, for God's sake, yet here he was, crying like a little boy being scolded by his mama! He stumbled outside, made his way to the stables, and shouted at the grooms to saddle a horse for him. He needed to get away from the palace, away from the court and its scheming, sycophantic courtiers, away from his mother and the chain she put around him. He urged the horse into a gallop and headed toward the woods that surrounded Tsarskoye Selo.

Paul didn't know how long or how far he'd ridden, when he suddenly became aware of the quietness of his surroundings. The birches, oaks, and lindens formed a green, whispering dome over his head, while thick growth underfoot muffled even the sound of the horse's hooves. He slowed the horse to a walk and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Even in this tranquil forest, his rage refused to subside.

If only she would die! Women her age and even younger were dropping dead every day. Why, even the Empress Elizabeth had died when she was not much older than his mother, yet his mother insisted on staying alive and being in the best of health, as though to spite him. When Paul was younger, he would have been ashamed and frightened of having such violent, vitriolic thoughts about his own mother, but now, he no longer bothered to keep them in check and even took a grim satisfaction from them.

A rustling sound, louder and more erratic than the swishing of the leaves, momentarily distracted him from those dark thoughts. He went around a thick grove of lindens and saw what was making the noise.

It was a bird, stuck in a bramble bush. It wasn't very big, about the size of a magpie, and appeared to be injured. One of its wings hung stiffly by its side, and it kept trying to lift itself out of the tangle of vines and thorns, to no avail.

But the bird's plight wasn't what drew Paul's attention—it was its plumage, the strangest and most magnificent he had ever seen, all shades of iridescent red and gold, glowing like a fireball in the last rays of the sun that speared through the trees. Its graceful tail feathers fluttered behind it like tongues of flame every time it made yet another futile leap over the bush. Yet, oddly enough, other than the flapping of its wings, the bird made no sound. There was none of the distressed twittering or cries that an animal would make in the same circumstances.

An unearthly feeling settled over Paul as he watched that ethereal bird. Half-forgotten memories of his childhood came trickling back, those long winter nights when he couldn't sleep and left his nursery—he didn't exactly have to sneak out, since none of his nurses and governesses paid any attention to him anyway—in search of the old Fool, who could always be found wandering the corridors of the palace at all hours. The Fool was the only one who treated Paul as a child and not a prince. "Well, what do you want, boy?" he would ask upon seeing Paul's forlorn face peeping out from behind a marble column.

"A story," Paul would reply.

"A story? Let's see now... Did I ever tell you about Little Bear's Son?"

And Paul would let himself get lost in the story until he fell asleep somewhere. He'd never gotten reprimanded for leaving his bed at night, because once the servants found out what he had been doing, they simply locked the door to the nursery. No more midnight fairy tales. No more fairy tales altogether.

Now, looking at the bird, Paul felt the same way he had while listening to the old Fool's stories. His anger and worries about his mother and the throne melted like ice under the sun, leaving only a childlike desire to capture that beauty, not to possess it, but only to hold it for a moment, to convince himself that it was real.

Cautious not to make any sudden movement or sound, he climbed down from the saddle and approached the bramble bush, thankful that the luxuriant summer grass and fallen leaves of many winters past were rendering his tread noiseless on the forest floor. The bird, still desperate to escape its thorny prison, seemed to take no notice of him. This close, Paul realized it was indeed injured—blood was still dripping from a wound on its wing, staining the gold feathers red, though it was from the thorns or something else, he did not know. Slowly, slowly, not daring to even breathe, he reached out, pulling the brambles back with one hand. The thorns were so sharp he could feel them through his kid gloves, but he ignored them. Gently pushing the brambles out of the way, he grabbed for the bird with his other hand.

There!

His hand closed around the feathered body, which was surprisingly hot to the touch, a fire that seeped through his glove, all the way to his bones. Bewildered, Paul looked more closely at his catch and noticed that its eyes, instead of being small and beady like most birds', were rather large and human-looking, except they were golden, like an eagle's. Before he could contemplate this oddity, however, the bird screeched—a horribly humanlike sound it was too—and the fire from its body was no longer warming but scorching. With a startled yelp, Paul loosened his fingers, and the bird, now free of the brambles, dove straight into his face, its good wing hitting him in the eye, blinding him, and, with a wriggle, freed itself from his hand, leaving behind only a tail feather.

When Paul's eyes cleared, he saw that the bird was a mere flash of gold amongst the trees, almost disappearing into the sunset. The feather in his hand gleamed and shimmered like gold, its heat still palpable even through his glove. There were some scorch marks on the glove where the bird had burned him, and a few drops of blood as well.

Tucking the feather into an inner pocket of his coat, he jumped back on the saddle and spurred the horse forward. Like a child who would happily sustain scratches and bruises while climbing over rocks and wading through streams to run after a beautiful butterfly, there was no thought in his mind but the chase. Far from deterring him, those scorch marks only made him long to feel that strange fire in his palm again. He couldn't explain why that yearning was so strong; he didn't even stop to think about it. He simply gave chase.

Through trees and bushes, heedless of the branches that stung as they snapped across his face, heedless of the violent bumping and jostling of the gallop, over shallow brooks and swamps that sucked at the horse's hooves, Paul kept after the firebird. The bird flew with astonishing speed, and only the injured wing kept it within Paul's sight, as it flitted, mockingly, through the green vault that surrounded him, always ahead but only just, always a finger's tip out of his reach.

A grove of silver birches rose before him, rows after rows of ruler-straight, snow-white columns, new leaves turning darker green in the gathering dusk. The bird flew through two birches growing close together, their crooked trunks twisting away from each other while their branches met overhead, forming an arch. The flash of gold winked in and out as the bird faltered and dipped, and Paul bent down until his face was almost pressed into the horse's neck, his heels dug into its flanks, his arm outstretched. Almost—almost—

The horse reared up with a frightened whinny, throwing Paul off the saddle.

The leaf-strewn forest floor softened his fall, but it did nothing for his temper. "Stupid beast!" he snarled, not noticing how the horse was nervously pawing the air in front of the crooked trees with its front legs, refusing to go through. He only saw that the bird was disappearing.

Without a look back, he leaped through the opening between the birches and ran after his quarry.

The bird seemed to be tiring. It dipped behind a thicket of saplings that grew on the edge of the grove, their roots covered by ferns and other undergrowth, and didn't come back up. Paul grinned. He got it cornered now.

The trees were thinner here. As he approached the thicket, he could glimpse a meadow just beyond, and hear the murmur of a nearby stream. The red glow at the edge of the world was fading into soft pink, turning the sky a bluish gray and throwing the forest into a shadowy twilight.

A brief glow seemed to emanate from the thicket and was gone in an instant, which Paul chalked up to a trick of the dying light. The bush rustled. The weary bird must have thought it could hide in there until it was safe to come out again. For a moment, Paul felt rather sorry for the poor creature, but his curiosity was stronger.

He leaned down and spread the foliage apart.

His jaw dropped.

There was no sign of the bird. Lying there, amongst the ferns and tall grass, was a girl.

Her long, red hair covered most of her body. Between the wavy tresses, he could glimpse a delicate shoulder blade, an arm bearing an angry wound that was still weeping blood, and bare legs curled up in exhaustion.

At the sound of his gasp, she lifted her head slightly and regarded him with a sullen eye. 

"What?" she said. "Have you never seen an undressed woman before?"

Chapter 2

A/N: I have no idea what "thrice-nine lands" and "thrice-ten kingdoms" mean. That's just how every Russian fairy tale begins.

The exchange between Empress Catherine and Paul was taken almost verbatim from Episode 2 of the show.

Taglist: @ali-r3n

[lizagrishkina]

Russian fairy tale "Ivan Prince and the gray wolf" . 😁

[kitaychan]

White Flame

Chapter 12

Warnings: Blood, Psychological Horror

General Summary:  Royal/ Magical AU. As their two Kingdoms get closer to a war, the past keeps on hovering around their choices. Prince Ivan has a hard time controlling his magical powers while being tormented by a mysterious ghost and Prince Alfred embarcs in seeking a revenge that might cost more than it’s worth it.

Preview: Alfred frowned, approaching the table. “Why do you know all that?”

“Because that law concerned all magic holders, it was a direct threat that took the lives of thousands, Ludwig’s father applied that law in his early years of reign, the sorcerers in the Middle and East Kingdoms were purged. It is an antecedent for us in the Islands as we received some of the refugees that fled from there.” Arthur took the book and the candle from the table, not bearing the smell of iron anymore, he motioned Alfred to follow him upstairs.

Knowledge

A single drop of water fell every now and then, echoing in the small basement, Arthur was sure it had been a dungeon before, for what purpose did the King have a dungeon in his palace? Arthur didn’t want to know. The place was damp, the door’s lock was so rusty, he didn’t have to use a key to open it.

Inside, the darkness was unbearable, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, Arthur had to light a candle but it only seemed to worsen the gloomy atmosphere the small room had.

Cobwebs covered the shelfs, the rusty chains on the floor were sticky, he hoped that the red splotches on them were oxide and not blood, the smell of iron was enclosed after years of not opening the room, Arthur had to breathe slowly so as to not gag.

The sooner he got to work, the sooner he’d be able to leave. He opened a shelf, a lone spider running away at the sign of him trespassing its home, the books inside were crumpled, the lower ones were wet, his eyes traveled over the faded letters in the covers, putting some over the table, Arthur frowned, that looked more like a dissection table but he had no right to question predecessors, not when he was guilty of usurpation.

The light flickered slightly, shadows dancing around the scattered books laying on the large table, tha yellow pages and the dusty covers showed the deteriorated state of the texts, Arthur cursed mentally, whoever had the nerve of putting books in here.

So far his search was futile, there was no mention of the creature he saw at the ball. Though his mind had pointed to the obvious label of ‘ghost’, its presence was beyond the forces of a mere spirit.

The wooden door cracked, the light from the candle merely revealed the person that stood in the entrance, Arthur would have been more cautious but the thunderous laughter that filled the small room was unmistakable.

“I can’t believe you are here, when I said that the old books were in the dungeon, I was joking.”

Arthur didn’t glance back, setting aside another useless book, diary was a better way to describe them, the handwriting was messy, barely legible, though they had some beautiful illustrations, the purpose of that book was merely botanical, nothing he could use. He sighed, a headache beginning to form in his head. “Alfred, why are these books here?”

“Because I said so.”

Arthur turned to him, crossing his arms. “This is not the moment for your games, I need a serious answer.”

Alfred shrugged, looking around, covering his nose with his hand as he entered. “That’s the answer, I got these books from a merchant, he said they were from the royal library in the east, I thought, “royal library of the east” as in books regarding their culture, geography and such, it was a scam, they are diaries from Ivan’s grandfather. What an irony that it is me who acquired them.” He picked up one from the pile, toying with the pages. “This guy should have been an artist, look at how realistic this looks. Do you think it is a self- portrait?”

The page Alfred was showing him was an illustration of a man, his haunting eyes looked directly at the observer, the traces were precise and resembled the same face he saw in the ball, Arthur eyes widened.  “Bloody hell, Alfred, you have the best of luck. Let me see.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, passing the pages rapidly as Arthur observed him with dread. “I found it first, I get to look at the drawings before you do. Look, it’s Yekaterina!”  He held the book for him to see again.

A drawing of a young woman was there, her hair tied in a braid, it was barely a sketch but her face was detailed, her expression was soft, she was smiling.

At the end of the page, Arthur glanced at what seemed to be a poem, though he couldn’t distinguish all of the words. He sighed. “That’s probably her grandmother.”

Alfred observed the page again, nodding slightly, flickering through the book. “True but the resemblance is astonishing. There are more drawings of her, looks like he really loved her, right?”

Arthur grimaced, averting his gaze from Alfred. “He kind of killed her.”

The book was dropped on the table, making the pile of unrevised books shake. Alfred’s words held a speck of derision in their tone. “What? No way, is there anyone in that family not a murderous lunatic?”

“I don’t think he meant to do so.”

“What’s on your head, Arthur? Now, the whole notebook filled with portraits of his dead wife, places this guy into a creepier level.”

“Firstly, those portraits might be from before, she is really young in those. Secondly, he didn’t directly kill her, there was a law during his reign that declared all magic related activities forbidden. He didn’t happen to know that she was a sorcerer too. When the rules in the east are upheld, they apply to everyone, without hesitance and without privileges. That Alfred, is why they don’t usually change laws, it can be counterproductive for the royalty. After that incident the law was abolished, probably to save his son from that same fate.”

Alfred frowned, approaching the table. “Why do you know all that?”

“Because that law concerned all magic holders, it was a direct threat that took the lives of thousands, Ludwig’s father applied that law in his early years of reign, the sorcerers in the Middle and East Kingdoms were purged. It is an antecedent for us in the Islands as we received some of the refugees that fled from there.” Arthur took the book and the candle from the table, not bearing the smell of iron anymore, he motioned Alfred to follow him upstairs.

When they were reaching the first floor, Alfred cleared his throat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Nice story time, you should enlighten me more about this and not those wacky tales of invisible creatures. Let’s get some dinner.”

“They are not tales and they are heavily connected with your own Kingdom’s history. In fact, I believe that man you showed me earlier had something to do with the behaviour of this King, such paranoia can’t be fortuitous.”

Entering the dining hall, Arthur noticed Madeline was already there waiting, the table was arranged and the food was served. Was Alfred looking for him so they could eat together? Arthur’s stomach twisted, reminding him how starved he was.

Alfred shook his head, patting him on the back. “What are you talking about this time, a ghost?”

The food looked astonishing but his appetite was spoilt, the smell of iron was lingering in his nose. “Perhaps” he replied, frowning at the sight of Alfred, he was giggling.

Noisy laughter echoed in the room, eclipsing Madeline’s greeting. “You are proposing a mighty opponent, Arthur. You can’t punch a ghost, you can’t kill it ‘cause it’s dead and you can’t even see it. How do you get rid of one?”

Arthur grimaced, taking a sip of the wine, Alfred always managed to formulate questions with answers that he could not give.

---

Ivan wandered around the hallways, the silence broken by his footsteps. Every now and then he found himself returning to the same place.

The trophy hall was tidy, the gray wolf had been covered again, it was an order he gave after his father died, even when he couldn’t bear to see the animal, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. What would that knight say if he could choose? Surely he wouldn’t want to be dead but if he were a ghost..

Ivan shook his head, he had to get some rest or else those silly thoughts would end up as a nightmare again.

Light footsteps echoed in the hall, a soft voice greeted him. “Good evening.”

Ivan turned around to see Natalya, she was holding her hands together, her blue dress was impeccable. He sighed, greeting her back. “Hello, Natalya. Do you like hanging around the palace?”

She nodded, approaching slowly, a frown in her face. “It is a beautiful place. How did the celebration go?”

He shrugged. “It was fine, the treaty was signed and Gilbert threatened us, the usual diplomacy."

She lowered her head, knitting her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound very well, I hope it's nothing serious."

Ivan dismissed with his hand and shook his head, turning to watch the silhouette of the wolf, feeling Natalya's gaze on him, he asked. "Is there something you need?"

She nodded. "Yekaterina, she is looking for a seal, she asked me to retrieve it from you, said that you knew what she was talking about.”

Ivan pondered on what that could mean, but he hadn't entered the office since their arrival. "I don't understand. She must be confused."

He frowned, Natalya was still observing him, an awkward silence filled the room and she made no sign as to leave. She had another motive, didn't she?

Clearing his throat, he asked. "What do you like the most about the palace?”

Natalya shifted uncomfortably. “I… I like the gardens, they are colorful and the servants said that there was a peacock around, though, I haven’t seen it.”

Ivan chuckled, pacing around. “It’s a cunning animal. My father brought it from the east but just as the people from there, it does not trust us.”

Natalya observed the fabric covering the mounted animal. Placing her slender fingers on the wolf’s head, her voice betrayed her calm demeanour. “Why did you bring her back?” she huffed.

So, that was what she wanted to say.

Ivan glared at her. “Why did you take the letter? It wasn’t for you.”

She shrugged. “I delivered, Tolys was busy running away with Feliks. I had to read it for her, why did you think it was a good idea to send a letter to an illiterate person?”

Ivan’s eyes widened, he averted his gaze from her. “Well, you know why she’s here, why do you ask then?”

She hummed, lifting the fabric slightly. “Why her?”

He shook his head, taking Natalya’s hand and moving it away from the wolf. “There is not a single magician that would come here after what happened before, they are too scared and she may help me.”

Natalya took a step back, retreating her hand and muttering her question. “Why are you seeking magical power? Don’t you have it already?”

Ivan frowned, the fabric sliding swiftly from the animal, revealing the soft gray fur. “I can't control it as I wish.” The wolf’s blue eyes were staring back at him and he stepped back, his voice quivering slightly. “It can be quite dangerous.”

“It is foolish to ask that much from her, what if she knows nothing?” Natalya huffed.

Ivan locked his gaze with Natalya and she fumbled with her hands. “She has to, Natalya or I’ll have to ask help from Alfred’s sister.”

Looking back at the wolf, his hands trembled, those blue eyes, he couldn’t just throw the animal away, those eyes weren’t  a beast's eyes, even after these years those blue orbs were still haunting.

Natalya’s voice changed abruptly, raising her volume. “Why do you ask the help of strangers when you could have relied on me? Am I that abhorrent to you?”

Ivan flinched at the sudden outburst, focusing on Natalya's expresion, her eyes were blue too, aside from the tears threatening to fall, her eyes had a glint of audacity now, strange as she didn’t seem to have enough will to contradict him before, Ivan wondered if he could trust her to be honest for once. “Natalya, do you love me?”

Her eyes widened but her answer came without hesitation. “Yes.”

Ivan grimaced, he was hoping she’d doubt, he approached her slowly. “I don’t think I can return your love the way you expect me to, Natalya, I do love you, just like I love my sister, we are family. You don’t have to submit to my wishes so easily, it makes me uncomfortable and it’s unnerving to deal with falsehood if it comes from you.”

She nodded, embracing him forcefully and sobbing. “I hate you.” her voice was shaky, she inhaled deeply after every sob. “I hate all of you, I try to keep everyone happy but Katya is cruel, my mother wants to get rid of me, my father doesn’t take me seriously and you… you don’t love me. You all should suffer more than I do.”

He waited for her to finish, her words were harsh, deep inside, Ivan was relieved, Natalya’s words were true, she was pouring her thoughts to him without worrying about his opinion.

When her voice stopped, she pushed him away, hiding her face with her hands and turning her back.

They stood for a while in silence, Natalya pacing around the room, she faced him, clearing her throat. “I can look for a mage in the firebird, my father said that the inhabitants were docile and well learned.”

He sighed, giving her a small smile and nodding. “We should go and look for the peacock, it must be hidden.”

She leaned to his side and took a hold of his arm, Ivan watched her wearily but did not push her aside.

“What is that you wish to know?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow. “About magic” she added.

“Anything about fire.”

Natalya chuckled, showing him a small smile. "I like that wolf, you shouldn't hide it, it's magnificent."

Ivan tried to stop himself from frowning while Natalya's grip tightened, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to rely on her.

---

The fireplace cracked, the wood inside gleaming with a bright yellow before turning red, Alfred liked to watch the flames consuming the logs, there was nothing better than sitting beside the warmth after a long day, that smell in the basement has left him dizzy.

He could lay beside the fireplace and rest, the carpet was soft and thick, the dim light emanating from it was an invitation to close his tired eyes, way before his father’s death, he found himself struggling to get a clear view from afar, this led him to abandon the hopes of mastering archery, how could he shoot if he didn’t see the target clearly?

He sighed, closing his eyes, soft footsteps approached, he didn’t have to see who it was, the steps were familiar, Madeline was always delicate, even when walking, she was an expert at sneaking around without getting caught.  

Her voice broke the silence, “Is the light bothering you again?”

Alfred opened his eyes, her concerned expression was hard to distinguish with the low light, what he could see was the cream color of her dress and the book she was holding. He yawned, pointing at her hands. “What are you reading about this time?”

She sat by his side, showing him the book, the cover was green adorned with golden leafs, Madeline beamed. “It’s a book of spells, there is one that claims to conceal you from dangers.”

He hummed, his eyelids closing again. “Does it have one for my eyes? I could use some eagle vision or something.”

Madeline giggled, placing her hand in his forehead. “I don’t think that’s possible, to perform magic one has to give something, perhaps such a deed would require leaving you blind in the first place, in order for your vision to be changed.” She moved her hand over his closed eyes. “Let’s see.”

Alfred moved away rapidly, widening his eyes at Madeline's mischievous smile, he whined. “What? I don’t want to be blind!”

She laughed, reaching to touch him again. “I promise I’ll give you the eyes of an eagle, they could be yellow too.”

Alfred jerked away, laughing nervously. “No way, I like them blue, stay away.”

Madeline retreated her hands, “You have some correspondence” opening the book, she showed him several envelopes and a folded paper. "I have written a letter for Yekaterina,” she added.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, eyeing the letters, trying to read with no avail. “Ugh, I can’t read this late, what do they say?"

“I didn't open your letters, though, there is one from Ivan, what do you think he wants? I thought they'd be colder towards us."

He squinted his eyes, extending his hand to receive it, the blue seal was untouched. "No idea, I'll read it tomorrow. Why are you writing to Yekaterina?”

Madeline frowned, her gaze lowering to the folded paper. "Their father died, we have to send them condolences perhaps that's why he wrote to you.”

“We don’t really have to reply, they didn’t send anything to us before” He sat up, and clicked his tongue, waving the letter in his hand. “Wait, they did, they sent us a horrible treaty with the threat of more confrontation unless we accepted.”

Madeline frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It is the right thing to do, besides Yekaterina is lovely and I want to keep contact with her. I just want you to sign it.”

Alfred glanced at the fireplace, he could throw the letter into the fire easily, a small chuckle escaped him. “Are you sure you wrote that letter to her?”

She retreated her hand, her voice serious. “What does that mean?”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh please, you spent most of our time with Gilbert, Ludwig or Ivan. Why would you write to Yekaterina if you were pleasantly talking with her brother the whole time?”

Madeline smiled, closing the book and standing. “I can write to him if that’s what you want. He sure makes some good and interesting questions, give me the letter and I will reply to it too.”

Alfred shook his head, why was she annoying him? “No, I do not want you to do that!”

She pursed her lips, dusting her dress. “You don’t like me talking to other people, I see.”

Alfred stood up, looking at the book in her hands. “To other guys whom I barely know anything about, No.”

She sighed, smiling again. “Do not worry. I wrote for Yekaterina and I didn’t mention how much you like her.”

Alfred gasped, shaking his head vigorously. “I don’t.”

Madeline laughed, pointing at the letter in his hand. “You said she was beautiful and it’s fine, think about how useful it would be if you married her, I’m sure his brother wouldn’t dare to declare a war on her or the other way around, you can’t attack your brother in law. Perhaps that's why he is writing, I'm sure he noticed how you were doting over his sister.”

“I said that she was beautiful because she is, that doesn’t mean I like her!”

She rolled her eyes, handing him the paper. “Whatever you say, just sign.”

Alfred frowned, taking the paper, he gaped at his sister's handwriting, it was so neat and elegant, unlike his. “No.” he paused, “You wrote the letter, is your doing, I will send one tomorrow but this is your work and I won’t take credit for it, let her read both letters and see how bad my writing is.”

Madeline giggled “Fine, I was going to save you from the embarrassment but have it your way.”

Alfred smiled as she walked away, he turned to the fireplace, the flames were dying alongside the light they provided, Alfred saw himself alone in the room, he traced the blue seal with his finger, opening the letter, squinting his eyes, some of the letters gained a bit of clarity, the words uprising, secrecy, aid, were registered by his brain, a cold feeling settled in his spine, he shivered folding the letter and ran behind his sister, calling out to her. “Wait Madie, you can’t leave me alone.”  

She observed him quietly, a soft smile graced her face. “Quick or the ghost will catch you.”

When she halted her steps to look back at him, Alfred  was relieved, the wrenched feeling in his gut disappearing slowly while a headache grew noticeable.

[acidmanticore]

I've finished half of the fairy tale, and honestly I'm tiiiiiired, my brain today is not ok.

I have a few other fairy tales on the list, so I'll start probably "The frog princess" after I translate the proper version of a tale about prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf.

*fangirling over Bilibin's artwork*

[aliteraryprincess]

Echo North by Joanna Ruth Meyer

Warning: Contains spoilers

Welcome back to Fairy Tale Friday!  Today we’re looking at a retelling of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” which was a runner-up in July’s poll.  While we have looked at a “Beauty and the Beast” retelling and the two tales are closely linked, this is the first actual “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” story for this feature.  Let’s get started!

As a Retelling:

Most versions of this tale focus on the youngest daughter out of many children.  At the very least, she is the youngest of three daughters.  However, our title character, Echo, is one of only two children and the only daughter.  In another deviation from the original tale, Echo’s mother is dead.  In the most well-known version of the tale, it is the heroine’s mother who convinces her to light the candle.  Echo’s father remarries a woman named Donia early on in the story, and this provides the story with some “Cinderella” undertones.  Donia is awful to Echo and ends up driving the family to poverty with her reckless spending.  Part of Donia’s cruelty toward Echo is her nastiness about injuries Echo received as a child.  While the heroine of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” is described as beautiful, Echo is the opposite.  When she was young, the wolf attacked her and permanently scarred her face.  There is also a major difference in how Echo comes to live with the wolf.  In the fairy tale, the bear comes to the house and asks for the heroine in exchange for wealth.  The situation in the book is more similar to “Beauty and the Beast.”  Echo’s father goes on a trip and doesn’t return when expected.  After a fight with her stepmother, Echo runs away in a snow storm and comes across her father lying unconscious in the woods.  The wolf offers to ensure he is rescued if Echo comes to live with him, and she agrees.      

At first the enchanted man appearing as a wolf might seem like a large deviation from the original tale.  The white bear has become the iconic symbol of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon.”  However, while the bear is the most well-known, many other animals appear in variations of the tale, including: a bull, a snake, a dog, a pig, and a wolf.  I couldn’t find a country of origin for the tale “The White Wolf,” but Andrew Lang collected it in The Gray Fairy Book.  Our wolf is named Hal when in his human form, and we actually get to meet him and see Echo interact with him.  Though he can only take his human form at night when he is asleep, a part of him resides in the library’s mirror-books.  Echo gets to know him and falls in love with him in the world of stories.  This is reminiscent of Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve’s original The Beauty and the Beast, in which Beauty gets to know the prince through her dreams.  As with the most well-known versions of the tale, the wolf sleeps in Echo’s bed each night.  However, Meyer does make this a little less creepy.  Instead of entering her room and climbing into her bed without permission, the wolf is upfront about it and originally sleeps on the floor.  It is only after she’s gotten to know him that Echo invites him into the bed since it is so cold out.      

While “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” features a troll queen who enchants the prince, Echo North has the Wolf Queen, who is half wolf, half human and has powerful magic powers.  In the fairy tale, the troll queen is the prince’s stepmother and wants him to marry her daughter.  In other variants, including the English “Black Bull of Norroway,” the woman is of no relation and sometimes isn’t even involved in cursing him.  In the earliest known version of the tale, “Cupid and Psyche,” it is actually Cupid’s mother, Venus, keeping the lovers apart.  Meyer does not place the Wolf Queen in a maternal role to Hal; instead, she is his former lover. He fell in love with her and she tricked him into agreeing to be a wolf by day and a man by night for a century.  The way out of the curse follows what we know well from the fairy tale: a human girl must live with him for a year without seeing his human form at night.  If he succeeds, he is free; if not, he must marry her daughter, Mokosh.  However, Meyer does include a twist on this that I’m actually not going to reveal here because I don’t want to ruin the surprise.     

In most versions of the fairy tale, it is a member of the heroine’s family that convinces her to light the lamp or candle.  In “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” it is her mother, and in “Cupid and Psyche” it is her sisters.  This is not the case in Echo North.  In fact, unlike most tales of this type, Echo does not return home until the very end of the story.  Instead, it is Mokosh, the Wolf Queen’s daughter, who convinces her.  Echo also meets Mokosh in the mirror-books, and the two become friends without Echo realizing who she is.  I’m really glad that Meyer chose to flesh out the character of the troll queen’s daughter.  Mokosh’s motivations are complicated; on one hand, she genuinely like Echo, but she has also made a deal with her mother.  If she marries Hal, the Wolf Queen will make her entirely human; this is why she tells Echo to light the lamp.  However, she also believes Echo has the power to defeat the Wolf Queen and even says so to her mother’s face.  Meyer could have chosen to boil it all down to a love triangle, and it’s great that she didn’t.  What she has done creates deeper characters and a more meaningful story.

As in the fairy tale, the Four Winds play a significant role in the story.  In “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” the heroine rides to the castle on the North Wind.  Echo is also brought to the Wolf Queen’s domain by the North Wind, but Meyer puts a twist on this as well.  Early on in the story, we are introduced to the story of the Four Winds.  The North Wind was the most powerful of all, but he gave up his power to the Wolf Queen for mortality so he could be with the woman he loved.  After Hal is taken by the Wolf Queen, Echo seeks out a storyteller named Ivan for more information.  Ivan agrees to travel with her in exchange for her story.  At the end of the journey, he reveals that he is the North Wind and some of his powers are returning.  Ivan and his three brothers play a vital role in the climax.  It is with their help that Echo is able to free Hal from his curse, and they are ultimately the ones who defeat the Wolf Queen by stripping her of her powers and turning her into a normal wolf.  

The way in which Echo frees Hal is probably Meyer’s biggest deviation from the fairy tale.  In “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” the heroine trades items to the troll princess in exchange for sitting in with the prince at night so she might speak to him.  The first two times he is kept asleep by a drink given by the princess, but he does not drink it the third night and the two come up with a plan.  When the girl lights the candle, a few drops of tallow fall on the prince’s shirt, and only she can wash it out.  Before wedding, the prince requests that his bride-to-be wash the shirt, but she, her mother, and all the other trolls are unable to.  The heroine comes in and washes it, and the troll queen destroys herself and all the other trolls in her rage.  Both the shirt washing and the three nights are seen in many variants of the tale.  Also common is the heroine completing several impossible tasks such as sorting a huge pile of mixed grain, which is one of Psyche’s tasks set by Venus.  Meyer doesn’t use any of this, instead drawing on another story: the Scottish ballad “Tam Lin.”  Though this is not considered a variation of the “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” type tales, it does have some similarities.  Tam Lin is taken by the Queen of the Fairies and his true love sets out to rescue him.  She saves him by holding on to him even as he is transformed into all kinds of beasts.  This is how Echo saves Hal.  She makes a bargain with the Wolf Queen: if she can hold onto Hal for three days, the curse is broken, and if she fails, both of them will belong to the queen.  During the three days, the Wolf Queen does turns him into all kinds of ferocious creatures, but she also makes Hal reveal something that hurts Echo terribly.  Again, I won’t say it here because it’s a great twist.  Despite it all, and with some help from the Four Winds, Echo prevails and saves Hal.                   

My Thoughts:

There are some truly amazing concepts in this book and they were all executed really well.  The mirror-books...I want them!  Why are these not real?!  Basically, Echo is able to enter these books and live out the story beside the characters.  Or, if she wants, she can go off and do something else in the world of the book while the story goes on elsewhere.  It’s so cool!  I also really liked how Meyer uses the house.  As in the fairy tale, Echo only needs to ask for things and they will appear.  But as Hal’s curse nears it’s end, pieces of the house start to fall away.  He and Echo try to save what they can by using magic to bind the rooms.  This makes for some really great action scenes, and it’s just a really interesting use of the magical house from the original.  

As I mentioned, Meyer uses some great twists throughout this book.  My mind was absolutely blown by the big reveal in the climax.  Again, I’m not going to say what these twists are because that’s just more spoilers than I’m willing to give.  But I think Meyer handles all of them well.  Even though they caught me off-guard, looking back I can see where she added hints right from the start of the story.  I always appreciate when a book can surprise me, especially a retelling since I obviously already know the story.  These twists are what made the book a 5 star read for me.

While I did love the relationship between Echo and Mokosh, I wish we had seen more of it.  A lot of their time together in the mirror-books is glossed over.  Even though we know they spend time together, we don’t get to see their friendship develop as much as I would have liked.  I think it would have been nice if some of their adventures were fleshed out a little more.  This is probably a minor nitpick since their relationship isn’t at the center of the story.  However, I was actually more interested in their friendship than I was in the romance between Echo and Hal.  And Mokosh is such a complicated and intriguing character!  But this is my only complaint with the whole book, so that is pretty good!

My Rating: 5 stars

Other Reading Recommendations:

The starred titles are ones I have read myself.  The others are ones I want to read and may end up being future Fairy Tale Friday books.  To keep the list from getting too long, I’m limiting it to three that I’ve read and five that I haven’t.

Other Retellings of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon”:

East by Edith Pattou*

Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George*

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas*

Ice by Sarah Beth Durst

Mistress of the Wind by Michelle Diener

West of the Moon by Margi Preus

Curse of the Troll by Emma Hamm

The Illuminated Heart by Thea van Diepan

More Books by Joanna Ruth Meyer:

Beneath the Haunting Sea

Beyond the Shadowed Earth

About the Fairy Tale:

Beauty and the Beast: Classic Tales About Animal Brides and Grooms from Around the World by Maria Tatar*

Beauty and the Beast Tales From Around the World by Heidi Anne Heiner

The Meanings of “Beauty & the Beast”: A Handbook by Jerry Griswold

Coming in September:

This is obviously out much later than I intended.  I’d planned for this to be one of two Fairy Tale Friday posts for August.  But I started my graduate program this month, and it’s going to take up a considerable amount of my time.  So I’ve decided to cut down to one Fairy Tale Friday post per month.  September’s fairy tale will be “Snow White and Rose Red” and October’s will be “The Princess and the Pea.”  After that I will post a new poll.  Thank you everyone for your patience!   

Have a recommendation for me to read or a suggestion to make Fairy Tale Friday better?  Feel free to send me an ask!