#hwcfutw

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 12 - To Watch a Witch Burn

CN Ivar, witch hunts, sexism, patriarchy, murder, arson

Cultural Context notes

witch hunts were a thing??? Not a huge phenomenon in eastern Europe tho.

Yes, I am back. Felt like writing.

Not beta-read by the still wonderful qq aka @daisies-and-lavender-sideblog as I needed to publish this and be done with this chapter instead of dragging it around even longer.

2,8 k words

Masterlist

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

Night cloaked the world under its dark spell, making way for the rising moon. Since time immemorial, the moon had wandered the sky, watching from above how kingdoms rose and fell, how people lived, how history was made. And very shortly after that immemorial moment long ago when the moon started their celestial hike, they learned how boring eternity was.

If the moon could sigh, they would. As their large lunar eye passed the dark lands below, there was nothing new to see. Always the same old spectacular robberies, coven meetings, lovers secretly reuniting.

Same old, same old.

The moon was about to metaphorically sigh again when their sight fell onto a familiar little wooden house below.

The house of the bride of that little guy.

What was his name?

King of ponds?

Prince of Piss?

It was so long ago.

The moon could not remember but he did remember that the Bride was human and to marry a Vodyanoy. A human and a Vodyanoy!

The moon remembered just a night ago how they had talked. It felt so long now as if months had passed.

The house looked different than how it had just a night ago.

The top floor was wet as if it had just survived a flood. Peeking through the broken window the moon caught sight of an equally dishevelled and chaotic bedroom.

Kids these days.

The front door opened and the Bride and her Vodyanoy stepped outside. They looked happy. She even wore a Kokoshnitza. Armed with the axe, the Vodyanoy looked around, before nodding to his bride and kneeling down. With a shy smile the bride stepped closer, adjusted a mossy blanket around her shoulders and giggled as her fiancé lifted her up to carry her away into the woods.

Looks like they have talked and resolved their differences, the Moon noticed.

But what now? Curious and excited, the Moon watched as they made their way through the dark forest, peeking through the branches and leaves to catch glimpses of the Vodyanoy and the bride in his arms. After a far too long and unentertaining hike (if it was up to the Moon) they arrived at the lake in which the Vodanoy had started to construct a new castle.

Looks a bit like a beaver lodge, the moon mused, too modern architecture. It’s missing columns.

Quickly, the Vodanoy carried his bride over to a little boat, setting her down and pushing her out into the open water as he swam around her like a dark threatening shadow under the water’s surface.

Smart to sleep out on the water where there is no bigger threat than the Vodyanoy himself.

The bride saw nothing of the dark, scaled, and clawed shadow circling her little swimming sanctuary like a cat a mouse. She took off her hair piece, snuggled into her blanket, and closed her eyes, falling asleep shortly while her fiancé lurked right under those few thin pieces of wood separating her from the deep dark water.

That’s it?

The moon would have killed for something more interesting. Their eyes wander over the little boat with the sleeping bride, the dark water and finally the Vodyanoy himself – dark and dangerous and unlike any groom to a human bride before.

With narrowed eyes the Vodyanoy blinked up, meeting the moon's curious eyes. 

“You are up.” The little princeling spoke.

“Of all the things you could have said, little one.” The moon huffed. “Of course I am up. I am the moon. I have nowhere else to be but up.”

The Vodyanoy shrugged, causing little waves to circle around him, and smiled.

“How are you, friend?” The princeling said with a mouth full of sharp teeth ready to break and gnaw bones. “I suppose I have to thank you. Your advice that I should talk with the Bride was a sound one.”

The moon hummed, staring down at the peacefully sleeping Bride in the embrace of water.

“I can see that. I am glad. What now?” The moon responded, eager to hear something, anything interesting.

“What now.” The Vodyanoy sighed. “She has my heart as I have hers. But she is still destined to die and I am not. It feels like winning a game of cards only for the table under it to crumble immediately.”

“Because she is a human?”

The Vodyanoy curled around the boat like a cat.

“Yes. I don’t think she minds it much. But I do. She will be gone one day and I will still be here. Always be here.”

The moon stayed silent for a moment, considering its words.

"You are hardly the first groom asking himself if they are making the right decisions. If you two are willing to give this marriage a try, why not gamble it? You might regret not doing so." The moon commented and paused. "But if there is a way to help you, let me know. It's awfully boring up here. You are one of the few who bother talking to me. I would love to return a favour."

König sighed, more waves running in circles from his enormous dark body in the water.

"Baba Yaga, the honourable witch, said I must sacrifice something I hold dear and give it to my Bride to save her." The princling said. "But I have nothing I care about that I could give her. Or am I wrong? I do not know. If you have the answer, dear moon, please do tell so I can save my Bride."

The moon thought about the witches' words. But nothing came to the moon, that was very illuminating.

"I am afraid I do not know. But I'll tell you prince of -"

"König. King of everything from under the water. Pardon the interruption."

The moon paused.

"Maybe you should give her your pride and title. Just marry her and then she should be safe?"

König yawned.

"Wouldn't that be too easy?" The king wondered, yawing again.

"U-hm."

The moon did not feel too bright about that.

"Maybe… Let's not risk it." They suggested. "For now, I can keep guard. Maybe a good night's sleep will help you figure it out yourself?"

The Vodyanoy sighed.

"Good night then. Thanks for keeping watch, Moon."

The little king of everything from under the water closed his eyes, cradling the little boat with his bride in to keep it from flooding out of reach and the Moon gazed away.

No dangers were on the face of the lake. The rivers and ponds laid calm and undisturbed, a great lull covering the early summer night.

The forest was less so. A fox made his way back to his den. A nightingale sang her song. A group of nearby villagers gathered in the darkness among their little houses in a nearby clearing.

The moon paused.

Armed with torches and pitchforks the villagers gathered as if ready to march.

Lovely! Exciting! The moon could not help but think with curiosity and concern. But where do they go?

A man was there, among the crowd. He was holding a torch, raising it high as he spoke with command.

“She is cursed!"

More villagers flooded out of houses, grabbing whatever tools they might find.

"And all that comes with her is cursed too!” A man called loudly over the supportive murmur from the crowd. “For too long we have waited and watched as monsters have started to creep around our village! As order has started to erode! We must bring an end to this before she kills us too! Think of the children! Think of the women!”

“Aye, Ivar! Tell them!” Someone shouted through the night.

“Think of the order of the world!” Ivar continued. “We have allowed a cursed girl in our midst. We were kind and patient. Oh, how benevolently we have tolerated her wickedness, have we not? Was she not allowed to live in the house of her family despite being unmarried and unbound against our custom?”

More supportive shouts sounded through the air.

“And her fiancé? Was she not seen naked with this stranger at the river? Improper and concerning! What will our wives and daughters think if they learn of the cursed girl roaming free? If they are not taken away by the monsters stalking through the night brought in by this witch!”

“Witch!” Another man stressed, shouting with hatred dripping from the maw. “She is a witch!”

“And a liar!”

“And a curse!”

“And unmarried!”

“I would never allow for a girl like that into my family!” A woman added loudly. “She is a stain. No boy from our village should be burdened with her.”

“There is just one way left!” Ivar shouted over the crowd. “We must kill her before she kills us!”

A grim silence befell the crowd.

The moon stared intently at the mob, waiting for judgement to fall. Like a witness to an execution waiting for the axe to hit the neck.

“Yes. We must kill the witch.” The woman finally stated solemnly. “We must kill the witch before she hexes our sons.”

“Before she tempts our daughters and wives.”

“Before she seduces our husbands.”

“Before she kills us.”

The man Ivar nodded and the crowd nodded with him.

“Yes, we must kill the girl before the girl kills us. In haste! We must act now.”

In gruesome fascination the moon watched, wondering about the poor girl who was supposed to be so powerful that she could threaten a whole village, summon monsters, and confuse the hearts of men and women alike.

Should I do something? The moon thought to themselves before realising a more pressing question. Can I do something?

While the moon was an excellent witness at night, they discovered it made for a lousy guardian to be up in the sky and unreachable for most.

I am sure this has nothing to do with the little king and his bride. The moon hoped and watched as the crowd shared pitchforks and torches among themselves, as mothers and wives whispered and joined with their husbands and sons to go kill some girl, as someone was hushed who dared to ask how a powerful witch could be killed by just some lowly peasants.

The Moon stared unblinkingly, wondering what was about to happen.

I am sure she will get away. The moon wished, feeling dread creeping up at the horizon.

Silently observing the moon saw how the mob made their way in muted order to not spook the girl-witch. Through gardens and under branches of leaves. In unjustified loveliness the night air caressed pleasantly over the crowd of the murderers to be.

If she were a witch, they would never stand a chance to harm her. The Moon thought to themselves, thinking back to the time when someone thought it wise to insult Baba Yaga.

Maybe…  The moon thought regretfully. Maybe the little Vodyanoy could… If I get him to wake up…

In horror the moon realised that the mob had made its way to the house of the bride before relief overcame them.

“She is not home! No one is home!” One of the villagers cried out from the broken bedroom window after making his way through the house. “The upper floor is nearly destroyed. It’s strange! It’s all wet like after a flood.”

“That must be magic!” Someone else cried. “Get out while you can!”

“She must have fled. We need to find her.” Ivar declared. “Lads, take torches and check the forest.”

No one moved.

“The forest? Are you mad, Ivar? That’s where the monsters roam. If she went into the forest, she is dead or a monster herself.” The woman from before spoke. “I will not send my sons to death to find a corpse or become one.”

“But what if she returns?” Ivar replied.

“Let’s make sure there is nothing to return to for her.” The woman replied calmly. “You said it yourself, old teacher – all that comes with her is cursed too. We must torch the place, Ivar. We must burn the stain away.”

“No, think of the house!” Ivar tried.

“What? Want to live in this cursed place? Want to eat fruit from this gruesome grove? Or work the land and choke on what would grow from it? The witch is dangerous, and we must wipe out anything that is left of her before she can afflict us.” The woman declared. Her eyes were dark in the night and her face was cut wolfish by the fluttering shadows cast from the torches. “Go on, boys! Burn it. Watch your fingers. Be careful.”

Her command broke the tense silence and the moon watched as young men started to search for firewood, hay, anything that would help them burn the house.

I must wake König. It's his Bride's house. The moon realised as they watched how the first flames tingled up the wo

oden walls.

Hey! Hey! Wake up! The soft call barely made the Vodyanoy stir.

Ivar, the old teacher stood and watched as the house burned without any witch in it. He grumbled about waste as he stood and observed the fruit trees being felled and the grains being trampled.

“It is better that way, Ivar.” The old woman spoke as she stepped closer, friendly rubbing over his shoulder. “It is a temptation. I have seen how you eyed the girl. How you have taken stock of what you saw she had. But no more. None of it is anymore. We are not thieves. Our anger is righteous. This fire is our defence. And it burns to keep you from becoming what you teach our boys not to be.”

Ivar shrugged her hand off.

“We could have used the house.” He sighed as they both watched the burning house. Someone had started singing like it was a peaceful bonfire. A girl danced and the moon watched how someone carefully hid a silver spoon in their pocket.

Wake up! You need to wake up!

“The garden, too.” Ivar continued his musings. “And the fields. Winters are hard. Don’t be superstitious, Anna. No one would have choked on the grain or been killed by a girl-monster lurking in the forest. Why did you do that?”

Anna sighed.

“Oh, you know why, Ivar! That little girl - a witch? Cursed? Commanding monsters? Please, you don’t believe it yourself.” The woman shook her head. “But she was becoming a problem. We both know. And I could not watch her get what so many women did not get before her."

"I don't understand, Anna."

"Of course you do not." She spit out bitterly.

Ivar stretched his hands out as if warming his fingers at the fire, mulling over Anna's words.

The man Ivar stayed silent and they watched the fire as the roof started to collapse, as the smell of burned fabric and shattering cups filled the air.

“Do you think we will see her again?” Ivar broke the silence.

The woman shrugged.

“If she is smart, no.” Anna replied. “She is just a girl after all. If she comes back after seeing her house burned to a cinder, my boys will take care of her like they would a proper witch.”

Ivar nodded and stepped away.

“Glad we agree on that, Anna.” Ivar said, “I still disagree on all that waste, but I am glad I can count on you keeping the peace with me.”

Anna smiled before waving her sons to her and turning to go. It was late in the night.

The Moon watched unblinkingly, a silent witness to an uncommitted murder as the village people started to tire and retreat to their own unburned, safe little houses.

It had been an eventful night after all and the Moon was not sure if they were glad about it for once. Their eyes wandered back to the lake with the half-build castle.

For a moment the Moon considered trying to wake the little king and the bride again. But then what would it help except having the Vodyanoy storm off and getting himself killed in the glimmering ashes of the burning wood house now?

No, they would figure out soon enough, the moon thought bitterly.

XXXX

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[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 11 - The Dive

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN: Mentions of possible death and injury, fear of water, nearly drowning, mentions of possibly getting hurt, inappropriate use of an axe, depression and bad mental health, on character is passively suicidal, cannibalism, fear of being alone, fear of separation from a loved one, lack of self-confidence, kissing, making out, partial nudity

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the equally afflicted @queenquazar. Unhinged writing and editing sessions in the dead of night wouldn't be the same without you.

6.0k words

Masterlist

Hope you enjoyed your summer as I have but now as it's getting colder, darker and most importantly weather outside, I am fairly sure updates will roll quicker now.

also I need to do more trips with my camera, I am running out of decent looking header photos.

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

The fresh morning breeze caressed over your slowly warming up skin. Branches of trees danced a lazy rhythm and the late birds of summer sang their song. Ghost stood next to you, wrapped in his coat made of leaves and moss and sturdy solitude, as you both looked up to the window of your bedroom. König was in there, still asleep and out of your reach.

“Let’s try to wake up König one more time.”

Hope reared its head as you heard Ghost’s words.

But not too high.

“How?” You wondered out loud. “I am sorry that you feel stuck here with me, but König did not wake up last time you tried. Why should he now?”

“Maybe we need to try harder,” Ghost replied and grabbed Königs axe.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on!” You tried to stop what was unfolding before you, only to witness Ghost grow in size, taller than the trees, taller than the house, and far away from your little human words.

“Enough, little brother,” Ghost groaned from high above you and you had to shield your ears from the loud thundering voice “It is time to wake up. I am tired of guarding your Bride in your stead.”

Birds took off, the earth shook and trees froze as in fear of the giant that was said to be their guardian.

Ghost straightened up and turned to the house.

“Hey!”

Like an animal on the hunt that got caught, Ghost froze and turned back, staring down at you with an oddly blank expression.

“What are you up to, Ghost?” You called, trying to ignore the little voice in your mind telling you that shutting up and quivering in fear before the giant was a smarter strategy to survive.

“Why the axe?” You squeaked as you tried not to squeak.

Ghost blinked, confused by this little being that was his future sister in law. Such a flimsy thing of flesh and bone, shouting at him from her place in the dirt. Ghost glanced at the axe, shaking his head.

“Right. I am sorry. I am not used to explaining myself but you have every right to ask,” Ghost admitted, and fell back into a shape more approachable to you, like a shadow growing smaller by the change of light.

“You can do it.” Ghost said. “Hit König with the axe to wake him up.”

You blinked, it was your turn to stare confused.

“He is just the Vodyanoy napping in water. Swinging an axe against him is like hitting the surface of a lake, stirring up a few waves but nothing else. He will be fine. And hopefully he will wake up from it.” Ghost explained and passed you the heavy axe before growing in size again.

You looked down onto the massive wood axe in your hands, the wooden handle old and used.

“Are you sure that will work, Ghost?” Uncertainty creeping up in your mind and voice, worry and frustration manifesting about your fiance’s wellbeing and actions.

“Have you ever heard of running water getting cut?” Ghost answered. “I am not saying König will like it, but it won’t harm him. Trust me.”

You swallowed, feeling uneasy. Hitting a human with an axe in their sleep was murder. Plain and simple. But, König was as much a human as you were a fish. His skin shifted and shaped as he pleased. He ruled the waters and even summoned them in his dreams after not sleeping for who knows how long, destroying your room. And his eyes…

“I understand this might be a lot to ask,” Ghost paused. “You will have to trust me on this one, Vodyanitza.”

His words danced through your mind like willow branches in the wind. If Ghost would have wanted to and this was ill-intentioned, he could have harmed König without bothering to talk and convince you of this plan. Maybe there was a point in trusting Ghost even if the thought of König getting hurt made you grow colder inside than the cooler morning breeze ever could.

You looked up to the giant and nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

“Hold on tight,” He stated and grabbed you to place onto the window sill to your bedroom. Like a leaf he tumbled into the room after you, turning himself small again and landing in the splashing water on your bedroom floor.

You cried out, first in surprise than dreadful fear from all the water suddenly around you as the heavy axe slipped out of your fingers and landed in the water, sinking down with a shallow ‘clunk’ against the wooden planks. 

“Ghost. I-” you eyed the water splashing around the room like a lively river. Or a dark river, a deep river, deep enough to drown. “I am afraid of water. I can’t get down from here. I can’t do it.”

Ghost made a sound that could have been a grumbled curse whispered by a tree before being hit by lightning.

“A Vodyaniza who fears the water,” He stated. “Sounds right like the mess my brother would cause. Alright, I’ll do it then.”

“Wait,” You looked at König as you tried to calm your nerves as you took deep calming breaths. He was still deep asleep. A mess of tangled unhuman limbs and scales and hair and skin in the waters of your flooded room. Panic and fear surged from all the water, but you forced those emotions in you aside as you tried to commit his sight to your memory, just in case something was to go wrong.

“Okay,” You finally agreed and nodded to Ghost.

This was it.

Ghost picked up the axe from the water and raised it high before swinging it down onto König.

The impact of the axe connecting with Königs head sounded like thunder rolling over you.

Loud and painful and final. 

Suddenly, like a storm, the water rose and reached high before you, waves building and crashing at your feet as you held onto the window frame for dear life while trying to see through the room filled with fine droplets of water and foamy waves.

A groan rang through your ear.

Königs voice - strained and painfully familiar.

Another groan as you heard a second hit from the axe through the wild waters before you … like…

…like a yawn before having to leave bed, yet still feeling tired.

“König?” You hoped aloud, your voice being drowned out by the rushing water and Ghost’s deep voice.

“Wakey-wakey, brother! Stop making your Bride wait for you!”

“Urgh.”

A massive wave crashed right next to the wall with your window, breaking the glass and causing the house to shake from the impact.

“Get up, little brother.” You could not see through all the splashing water before you, only hearing the sound of Ghost’s deep voice. “Stop being dramatic and flooding your girl’s room. It’s rude.”

A third axe hit thundered through the little space before you. More water rose and a wave finally hit you. You wailed as you tried to fight against the dreadful flood, with desperate fingers you reached for safety. Catching the clammy window frame, the sill, and finally just the thin fabric of the curtains until the pull of the retreating water consumed you and took you in to the deep waters.

The silence of being underwater was more unbearable for your mind than the loud crashing of waves and shattering sounds of the hitting axe above.

For a moment fear froze your body and you could not help but stare as you floated impossibly downwards at the sight of König, coiled up like a serpent snake and shifting scales reflecting the light. His eyes were closed except for a sliver of that beautiful blue peeking into the world as if the king of everything under the water was about to wake up. Bubbles of air fought their way out of your lungs and you felt panic as you watched the axe hitting König from above.

Would he be fine?

No blood came out of the wound that broke as the axe connected with Königs sleeping shape. You watched König being unharmed and lazily stretching his long limbs and body as you floated downwards, taken by a strong current in the impossibly deep waters of your bedroom.

Wait, would you be fine?

König did not notice any of it. Instead, his eyes only slightly fluttered, as if merely being tickled awake - lazy, unfocused blinking of blue eyes before sharpening up. Still sleepy, he looked around as if confused if he was still dreaming or awake. Finally, König locked eyes with you and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, toothy and life-savingly-relieving to see him coming back to his senses.

You did not smile back. The air bubbles in your mouth were too precious a cargo to smile for König, opting instead for an unhappy grimace and some waving motions that hopefully spelled out: ‘I don’t want to be here and need your help to get out’.

For a moment, a very long moment as you struggled, König blinked before the realisation kicked in. He was far away, so far away from you in the waters that he had dreamed up. Yet, unbelievably quick the serpent body moved and changed as König headed for you. With hands, not scaled claws anymore,  König reached out as he fought his way through a whole ocean between you and him as a last air bubble left your mouth. 

Your head was spinning and you started to lose sight as you felt hands on you that lifted you up and out of the water.

You coughed, ungraciously spitted out water as König tried wiping out hair and tangled clothes out of your face.

“Bride! Are you okay?”

You vomited water at his feet and chest while he held you like a cat that got rescued from the floods, close to his body and patting you like a little animal.

“She looks fine.” Ghost’s gravelly voice sounded through the air as you still tried to blink and see. “You better worry about this flood you caused.”

“Oh. Right.” You felt König shift and then the sound of water draining away as if someone  had pulled a plug.

You coughed again for good measure, still feeling weak and miserably wet. The cold was starting to set in as the rush of fear and panic started to run out.

Shivering, you tried wiping away the water from your face and opened your eyes.

Your bedroom was a mess. But not in the way your mother would have disapproved of but in a way she would have questioned whether or not it was still habitable. The water was gone, but the signs of the flood were catastrophically clear with nothing being dry, in pieces or not where it ought to be. Your bed was a pile of torn fabrics and splintered wood. The chest with your clothing, tipped over and empty, looked like a sad hungry animal no one had bothered to feed. And your few personal possessions, kept toys from your childhood, gifts from friends, clothes lying around the floor. Ghost was standing before you on something that might have been pieces of your wedding dress, leaning on the axe with the same skull-covered expression as always, yet appearing somewhat amused under it.

And König - he was holding you up to his chest, his hands still patting you helplessly as if that could help you. He looked human. Mostly. The hair was as messy as the first day you saw him, covering most of his face except for blue eyes burning through with worry.

“I-” you rasped despite the storm of emotions waging through you. “I was so worried about you, König.”

Another cough.

“But I have never been as angry as this before. What did you do with my room? And my wedding dress. Also-”

You felt like there was still some water in places of your body where none was supposed to be, wheezing and shaking your head from the uncomfortable feeling.

“-put me down. You are so cold and I feel like I am freezing in your arms.”

Guiltily, König put you down, mumbling something that could have been an apology while Ghost choked on something that could have been a laugh.

You paid no attention to them, concentrating on your weak legs to hold you and carry you to the torn pieces of your wedding dress. Ghost stepped aside and watched you with open curiosity as you held your dress in disbelief of how quickly your work had turned into rags.  Holding back tears, you let the fabric fall back down with a wet squelching sound and turned to the door. If you were lucky the hinges still worked and you could walk out on your own and warm you up again downstairs, away from the left battlefield that used to be your sanctuary.

You stumbled, reaching for the handle and opening the door only to face another cruel adversary.

The stairs.

There was no way you were able to make it down the steps without breaking your neck with how wobbly your legs felt and how ridiculously shaky your hands twitched.

You turned around, the pleading frustration in your eyes too visible for König not to step closer and peaking at the obstacle in your way.

He nodded while trying to control whatever emotions attempted to govern his face.

“Allow me, Bride.” He asked and lifted you up again before carrying you downstairs and into the kitchen, setting you down before the warm oven.

Ghost followed and started preparing tea and a hot stone before leaving the room as König returned with dry clothes for you, magically found somewhere in a part of the house that hadn’t been flooded. You looked at the pieces offered in his hands, only to see that it was a mix of mostly your fathers and brothers clothes from the storage. You did not care. They were dry and the village would judge you no matter what you wore. Might as well just do the best for yourself.

Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your dripping clothes. König held and steadied you where you needed it and grabbed the discarded pile of fabrics to put it up on the laundry line outside once you were done.

You stayed where you were, leaning close to the oven in the hopes of warming up quickly, and refusing to do anything before feeling less miserable.

Ghost was still a guest. And König was your fiance. A good hostess and bride would have started serving them the food that you had previously prepared.

A good hostess and bride would not have been dipped into a pool of dreamed up water in their own bedroom either. You thought bitterly before adding a relieving Fuck it.

Someone knocked at the door and you called them in.

Ghost reappear from the outside with a blanket of moss and leaves, wrapping it around you and placing you in the nearest chair to the oven before passing you a cup of the freshly brewed tea.

“Thank you,” You rattled through cold lips.

König returned with more wood for the oven and added a large log to feed the fire. You had shown him how to care for a fire, never expecting he would ever find a need for it. Both brothers hustled and moved around your little kitchen, hardly speaking and only every once in a while giving you worried glances as they made sure all work of a proper household would be done while you rested and warmed yourself. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of being safe and cared for, seep in.

This day, even if it was slightly past midday, had punched all energy out of you while also confronting you with every possible emotion a human heart could feel. Waking up in the flood, alone and confused, next to your water serpent like fiance, meeting your future brother-in-law who thought you would die soon, nearly drowning once again while your fiance woke from the literally deepest nap possible in your now destroyed room. You sighed, not even bothering to bring order into your mind.

Instead, you gratefully thought how you finally weren’t alone even if it was scary at times to share your life with beings so different from you - König, Ghost, Farah, talking animals and murderous Rusalkis. Yes, this had been another moment where you could have been harmed. And mourning your room and things destroyed by the flood, was one of many things in the curled grey corners of your mind. There was still anger and confusion in you why it all had happened. But you weren’t alone anymore to face those things on your own. There were people around you now that noticed you and cared for your well-being. Clearly, not all of them to the same degree or out of the same motive. You understood that. But your lost room and wedding dress, your fears and secrets and longings felt more like a coherent song than a desperate cry for help when it wasn’t just your voice.

Someone touched you softly on the shoulder and you opened your eyes.

“Hey.” König stood before you with his blue watery eyes and wild hair.

Both brothers had paused their busy work and stood with their attention turned towards you.

“How are you feeling?” Ghost asked gravely from his far away spot at the door and reached for more tea for you with his long unhuman arms without moving.

You shivered, unsure if from the cold or from the odd reminder that neither of the men were human.

“Better,” You replied. “Thank you for giving me time to recover.”

Your eyes wandered to König, craving to hear his voice again and feel his warming eyes on you. He looked away, avoiding your gaze.

Your little heart dropped deeper than the waters in your room had been, fighting hard to soldier on.

You cleared your throat.

“Well,” you squeaked, your voice still feeling thin and fragily human as you addressed the giant men. “I am starving. This is not how a host normally does it in this house since all I did was sit and rest now. But how about we eat?”

The rabbit stew that you had made this morning smelled tempting and promising from its reheating spot in the oven and you heard your own stomach growl.

“Thank you for the invite, Vodyanitza,” Ghost declared, slightly bowing his head. “But we will have to do that another time.”

“Oh,” You huffed, slightly disappointed.

Ghost stilled, as if thinking before taking a deep breath.

“It has been lovely meeting you, my dear sister-in-law. It’s been a pleasure. Also- ” He paused. “I may have treated you rougher than necessary and I do apologise for that. If you ever need help, just send for me. I may not appear to be the most, let’s say, approachable. But I do hope that there is nothing but the best for you and I am looking forward to your wedding.”

“You are coming after all?” König finally spoke, surprise ringing in his voice as he turned to his brother.

Ghost nodded. “It’s not every day a brother of mine gets married. I need to make sure you don’t drown your own wedding guests.”

König forced a smile.

“Graves marries someone new every couple of years,” He interjected.

“Graves married and remarried so much, he hardly needs his elder brother to tell him how to plan a party. He knows what he is doing.”

Both brothers chuckled and you smiled at the sight, remembering your own brother.

“Before I go, dear sister, allow me to give you something.”

Ghost  reached into his coat. From the depths of his pockets he produced a huge leaf, rolled up into a package and bound together with a simple string.

“I suppose you have none yet, but a future queen should wear one. It would look good on your wedding day.”

You took the package from his hands and pressed it slightly, trying to guess what was inside.

“Thank you, Ghost. Why-“

“Open it.”

Obediently you opened the little knot holding the leaf together with slow, cold fingers and unrolling what was inside.

You gasped.

In your hands was a Kokoshnik, large and covered with fine embroidery and colourful stones of green and blue. It felt firm in your hands. And it wanted to be worn. Like a crown, proud and bright for a special day. At least one thing you would have for your wedding day.

You thought back a sob at the thought of your torn wedding dress, your fingers still holding the precious crown like an anchor.

“I am sure König will gladly help you put it on. But don’t lose it. I made it for you and there is no other like it. It will protect you when you walk in the forest.”

“I…”, you huffed, “…don’t know what to say. This is very beautiful. Thank you.”

Ghost just waved with his hand like it was nothing.

“Don’t say anything and just wear it to keep you safe. Do me that favour.”

You nodded, out of words.

“Well, I’ll be gone then. The forest calls me.” Ghost turned to the door and you started to get up to send him off. “Don’t you dare get up, sister. What’s the point of the Kokoshnik if you fall sick from the cold and exhaustion. No, stay right where you are.”

You fell back onto your spot, the moss blanket encasing you like a cocoon of earthly smell and warmth.

“Save travels then, Ghost.” You spoke. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waved and stepped outside, followed by König.

You sat there, hearing them talk and laugh and wishing each other well without making much out of it.

Then, finally, Ghost was away.

The rest of your day was spent alone with your own thoughts. König, aside from making sure you ate and rested, hardly spoke to you. His distance confused you. It gave a feeling of newfound loneliness when you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling with the wrong knots in the wood and the wrong bedding around you as you leaned against the oven. Ghost’s reassurances just a couple of hours ago now felt like a lie. You were no queen. And there was no way for you to live long enough to ever learn how to be one for König that was good enough. No standing on a box or life saving spells could change that. The finality of your fate was devastatingly simple. You would drown and König, your beloved König, would find himself a better queen. Why else did he withdraw himself like that?

The mauling insecurities inside of you stopped you from asking.

Instead you listened to König rummaging upstairs while you dozed under your moss blanket, practised drawing letters in the ashes of your oven or thought about how you could fix your wedding dress. It was pointless but you had little else to do and so you continued like you had always done.

König had brought the dress out together with the rest of your wet belongings, hanging it up to dry in the sun. The liberating concentration kept you from your dark thoughts: you had watched the dress through the window, mentally placing one piece of rag over the other in the hopes of possibly having a saving idea as the rags swayed gently in the breeze. It had worked until the light grew low and the trees around the house in the garden had started to spawn more unpleasant shadows than welcome distractions.

You got up from your cosy spot and started preparing dinner. Still feeling weak, your legs carried you with a slight tremor as your whole body was plagued by a deep tiredness. It came from all those times not resting. It felt like all those tears not shed. It was a tiredness that wasn’t fixed by sleeping longer one night because it was deeper than the soreness in your muscles and bones. It was the dark abyss of water calling for you. But you could lie to yourself. Opting to go to bed and calling it a day in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Sometimes, giving up was actually a smart thing.

You huffed, once again forced to consider the reality of your situation.

Going to bed? Where? Your bedroom was destroyed. And the other rooms in your house had been packed up and sealed when your family died. Back then it was too much to bear seeing their things and looking at the places they used to rest. Even now, under no condition were you ready or willing to disturb those rooms. The easiest for you would probably be to sleep here in the kitchen.

But what about König? Would he need to sleep too? Flood the rest of the house and destroy every last bit of habitable space as he took you out in your sleep? Or would he leave you tonight and watch as the human-monsters and monsters-monsters finally had their feast with you. The thought nearly entertained you. Maybe that was better than drowning and at least some poor Tschort would enjoy a bit of your precious meat.

You chuckled at your own morbid thoughts.

But it was not night yet, and maybe there was a bit of queenly pride inside of you yet as you decided to brace yourself for an overdue conversation with König, leaning against the kitchen counter for support.

You opted to make some food. Since it might be your last chance to enjoy a meal before you became a meal, you took your time. There was not much to be done for dinner: heating the left-over stew, cutting some bread made of acorn flour, setting the table. After you finished, you steeled yourself for the hardest part.

“König?” You called upstairs. “Would you like to eat dinner with me?”

You held your breath and waited as the rumbling from upstairs stopped.

“It’s fine if you are busy, but I am hungry and would love your company,” You coaxed.

Heavy steps sounded through the wooden house, causing the old stairs to creak under the weight of the Vodyanoy.

König emerged into the kitchen, bowing down slightly under the marginally too low ceiling and looking at you sheepishly.

“Are you sure, Bride?” He asked. “I haven’t finished repairing your room.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, too stunned to speak before you swallowed down a good chunk of your raging insecurities. 

“So that’s what you have been doing up there,” You finally said. “I did not know.”

König looked to the ground like he had been caught stealing goodies from the pantry. It was a look that made your knees weaker than even a day facing terrors could.

“I wanted to repair it. I wanted to apologise with more than words. It’s what good kings ought to do.” He explained looking immensely guilty.

Your breath hitched.

He cared?

You looked down, still thinking of your room and your ruined wedding dress. It did hurt you.

But there was hope because he cared. You nearly hated yourself how desperate you were from the affection of someone who you could never have.

“It’s fine,” You said, after a few moments of heavy silence as you fought the storm inside of you. “It’s fine for now. We will make it work and repair it together. It’s, ah, fine.”

He looked relieved as you looked up from your hands.

“I also want to apologise,” You continued. The words in your mouth felt relieving to spit out like bitter medicine. “I thought about this. I was really cross at you. Not entirely sure how much nicer I could have been considering the moment. But I don’t strive to talk to others like that, especially not my fiance. I just felt hurt and alone.”

He turned his head like the Heron when hunting little fish in the water.

“You have every right to be angry, dear,” König stated

“I...” You tried before stopping and starting anew. “That does not mean I am proud or okay with my words. Especially after Ghost explained to me that you probably overworked yourself on my behalf. I am not sure how to feel about that yet but it does not make me feel good. I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I feel so guilty. And like a burden.”

König stared at you.

“Dear,” He said softly. “I know you want to be good and kind. I know you are. But please give me your bad as well.”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

He raised his arms like a man at a loss of word, stumbling around the room until he turned back to you.

“Guess how I feel failing you over and over again when your reaction to me is kindness and surrender? I feel bad. The worst! Don’t do this to me. Be a burden. Be angry. Be the biggest inconvenient person wherever you go. Please be angry and demand better of me! I want all of you. Not just the nice parts.”

Your head was spinning. Was he…? Did he really…?

“I am not good enough!” König continued his tirade with a voice rising louder and louder like a tea kettle that had reached its boiling point. “I am who puts you in danger over and over again. I hardly protect you from the dangers of the world. I am a danger of the world. I am making a poor husband for you. But the reality is, I am not good enough to step away because I am selfish. So, how dare you make yourself feel any less than you are.”

His eyes gleamed with a madness you had never seen before in him as he lowered his voice with the last of his words. It was dangerous. A sign of warning that told you to step back and run as far away as you could like a good girl should.

But you were just invited to leave that behind you.

“I don't want you to leave either!” You hit back, squaring up to the challenge. “I just don’t want to feel like I am a constant problem. I am just a human! A peasant! And a bad one at that since I will likely starve next winter without help! I know nothing of how to be a queen! I nearly drown all the time! How can you not understand that I don’t feel like I am allowed to be a problem when my reality is that no one cares if I live or die!”

“Because you are wrong! I care.” König's eyes gleamed as he hissed his answer.

“Why?” You spit back, the fire in you burning and ready to torch any bridge behind without thinking.

“Because I love you.”

Königs words hung in the air, irretrievable and powerful enough to break whatever you two had.

You looked at him. His face was frozen in fear and panic. Like he had admitted to a crime he’d sworn to keep a secret.

He loved you. The thought raced through your mind, unsure where to be put and what to do with it now.

“I am sorry,” König said. “I understand. I will make sure you are okay as promised anyway and-”

“Please…” you managed to your own surprise.

“Please?” König asked with his eyes shining down at you.

You took a deep breath and all the courage in you that was left, “Please lean down so I can kiss you.”

König looked at you, too stunned maybe or unsure how to touch you without breaking this human body of yours, before finally kneeling down in one, not so smooth, motion. You stumbled forward, colliding into his chest and tangling in his arms before lifting your head and kissing him.

It was all teeth and desperation. König met your lips with a hunger matching yours, and an anger challenging your long hidden fury. He moaned and you wanted every bit of air you could get from him as you roamed his back and shoulders and arms and chest and neck, and at a certain point you got lost in him. You bit his lips and tasted blood. He snarled and pushed you back, catching your head before you could fall and hurt yourself. You stumbled and fell back anyway, taking him with you. The crash rumbled loudly as König caught himself on his arms, hovering above you before continuing where you had left off. His mouth was addicting, and willingly you answered his salty lips and tongue. A bit of revealed skin at his neck here, a tug at your shirt there. You scooted up feeling hot and needing that damn old shirt off your body because you were burning up with it. Instead of getting it off quickly you got yourself tangled in the large sleeves, nearly ready to just tear it off your body as you felt Königs hands pulling at the fabric and freeing you. The kiss of the cooling air on your skin made you still. For a moment you felt shy, making you cross your arms in instinct before your chest.

König looked at you from a position that was something between kneeling, sitting and lying before you, also half out of his clothes with his Rubacha hanging around his neck and head.

“Not sure why I feel like this is new, now.” You admitted. “You have seen me naked before.”

“That was a different nakedness,” König offered and finished getting the shirt off. “This is new.”

You nodded, understanding entirely what he meant, and continued to feel vulnerable. What were you supposed to do? You had no idea what you wanted now except being close to König.

“We don’t have to continue, my love.” Your fiance said.

You nodded again, reassured yet still utterly lost on what to do.

König scooted closer and slowly raised his hands, “Can I touch you? I just want to hold you.”

Instead of bothering with words or another creative and variety serving nod, you leaned into him. Königs warm hands caught you, pressed you closer to him and embraced you.

You hummed.

“Is this good?”

“Yeah, I am sorry-”

“No,” König shut down instantly. “No more ‘sorry’ for you tonight. Or ever. I really meant that.”

You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion.

“But what if I do something bad?” You countered as you enjoyed feeling close to König. “Shouldn’t I say sorry at some point?”

“To me? Always.” König grinned teasingly before growing serious. “The rest of the world, however, has a lot of apologising to do before you ever get back into a situation to be sorry for something, dear.”

“You just want me to be as bad as you are,” You teased back half-heartedly.

“Naturally.”

You stayed silent, not sure what to say or do except enjoying being safe and loved in Königs arms as you mindlessly explored his back and chest with your fingers, drawing little circles and charms into his wonderful skin.

“We should talk about the sleeping situation tonight.” You finally spoke, breaking the silent spell over you.

“Yeah.” König agreed. “I have an idea.”

Cultural Context Notes:

The theme of the unkillable giants as beings connected to nature can be found in the Edda, but it’s not the only place this theme is explored. It’s just the most clear one I thought of, and can be put into words as a place to maybe start researching if your are interested in that. The idea of hitting König as something akin to a giant to wake him up, comes from the tale of Thor and Skrímnir.

Generally, the idea of paralleling gods/godlike beings, humans and giants, escalated into a bit of a philosophical excursion at the kitchen table when I mentioned how the story is unfolding, leading to the question what exactly the difference between godlings, giants and humans is and if there even is one. In plenty of pre-Christian European tales, there aren’t boundaries between godlike beings and humans. If a human stays with a godlike being, they kind of tag along and don’t die like they would have had when staying with their fellow humans. Sometimes there is an explanation for it (godly ancestry, nectar or Idun’s apples, magical blessings), sometimes there isn’t (Thialfi and Röskva as Thor’s entourage, general trope of humans in service of or in marriage with a non-human being). 

Warming stones or using ceramics is an old practice when hot water bottles weren’t available.

There are several legends and myths associating the water or waters generally with snakes. Naturally, there is the saga of the Midgard snake, encompassing the world in Norse mythology. The theme of a great water snake or mermaid-like half-fish, half-human body encompassing the world also comes up in Greek mythology in the figure of Oceanos as the great river god and father of river gods. Since we don’t have plenty of sources about old Slavic beliefs, I am taking the liberty and filling some gaps here from geographically closer regions where we do have more sources on mythology.

Acorn is edible and can be made into a fine flour from which it is possible to bake bread. However, do not just make flour from acorns. It’s a huge process to disinfect and debitter acorns before grinding them into flour. There is a reason why nowadays most cultures opt for utilising cultivated crops like grains and legumes instead of using low yield giving nuts and seeds. (Also, we really need those acorns as food for wild animals and for reforestation!) Cultivation of plants is a huge game changer for human life quality and communal living. It’s really cool. But it does require more cooperative systems of labour since harvesting and processing plants like grain requires sharing of work, space to do it, and natural weather & ground conditions to grow. Plus the grain in itself needs to be cultivated first. And these amazing food sources can be exploited by having control over places in which one can grow certain high yielding crops which can trigger war and oppression. Most noticeably in the Central and Eastern European region, which is obviously what I write about a lot, this is the case with Ukraine. This now independent country has good climate and ground conditions, yielding great harvests of wheat grain and sunflower, leading to the region being dubbed the Granary of Europe. Ukraine was fought over not just today but also occupied in historical moments like WW2 by the Nazis or under the Russian Empire precisely to have access to these high yielding conditions. So, food and where food comes from, is an important angle to understand plenty of conflicts, imperial oppression and cultures. I invite you to read more about the history of grain, why Ukraine has a flag literally depicting a grain filed under the blue sky or maybe learning how to make bread yourself. To return to my point:  Bride lives in an area which has seasons. However, the climate is cooler with lots of swamps and waters around. The forest takes most of the shore space in her immediate vicinity. She has a garden in which she (tries to) grow buckwheat, a very climate-resistant pseudo grain. And technically she owns fields, but has no way to work them on her own due to the lack of manpower, possible lack of seeds, as well as timing issues for the sowing. But common grains like wheat require a warm and steady dry climate which is not the case here. Other grains like rye are historically common in Central and Eastern Europe, however one needs to plant them first and after the harvest it still requires labour to dry and deshell the rye first, a luxury that Bride does not have because she has been on her own for most of the year. So, to finish this long excursion on grains and flours - she uses acorn flour for bread because she was isolated and on her own. Also, agriculture is really cool and maybe you will think about the amount of labour, logistics, politics and historical development when biting into something flour based.

Vodyanitza is just the female version of Vodynoy

Rubacha is the name of the traditional linen shirt worn by historically both men and women but nowadays mostly associated with male clothing traditions. This shirt is often loosely fitted and bound at the hip with a belt. Having embroidery, especially red embroidery on a Rubacha is very common as red natural dye was widely available in the region. The embroidery and introduction of other colours is dependent on the exact time and place a Rubacha comes from. Even nowadays the Rubacha is part of plenty of Eastern European traditional dresses.

Quick reminder: a Tschort is a type of evil spirit.

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[itsagrimm]

He who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 4 - Deep Waters

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN mentions of sex, mentions of sexual assault and rape, trauma and fear of water, sexism and patriarchy, reader get’s insulted and attacked, nearly drowning and panic, talk of murder, planning murder, nudity (both sexualised and unsexual)

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Also I wrote this sick and being kept alive by aspirins so sorry if 'this not peak.

Beta-read by @queenquazar. Check out her beautiful writing!

Masterlist

The tea in front of you was too hot to drink yet. Its smell pleasant and its dark colour flowed around as you stirred the steamy liquid, lost in your thoughts.

You missed your family and friends coming over for tea. You remember talking while trying the freshly made berry jam in summer and sharing laughs, advice, and a shoulder to cry on. Your giggly girlfriends talking about gossip they had heard, lips they had kissed, tears that had to be shed. Or your mother, calmly but steady, laying out her thoughts and judgement in front of you and your brother, dissecting those who dared harm her or her loved ones down to the bone.

None of that anymore.

Just one cup of the dark brew.

No one else at your table to talk about König. You assumed your mother would approve of you marrying a king just out of pragmatism, but object massively to you marrying a king of under the waters, a man of powers no human could understand. 

No, absolutely not, my daughter. What do you expect to do when I want to visit you, hm? Turn myself into a frog to swim to you, hm? Or will he live with us and command the buckets to water the fields on their own? Don’t be ridiculous. That is dangerous magic and I’ll not have you harmed. Also, he needs a haircut. No, I don’t care what your grandfather has said. I will fight this König off with the wood axe if needed. King or not, he is not getting my beloved daughter. No, no, no.

You smiled softly at the thought of your mother taking one look at König and his wet, algae tangled hair and being utterly unimpressed.

He is tall. Do you think he has a big dick?

The thought of your friends musing about your fiancés cock made you grin, warmed your cheeks and remember you had tea to drink.

Oh, hot!

You nearly spit out your tea as you grimaced from the burn. You should not have been distracted. Instead of thinking about your fiancés dick, you should be thinking about what you had to do until he came by. In a strange moment of unsteadiness, you had invited him over. The man you weren’t entirely sure was safe to be around.

Besides, he said he just needed a queen and would never touch you.

The memory filled you with a strange feeling you could not place – hot and excited, but also afraid and insecure.

I have other things to do, you thought to yourself and got up, leaving your cup and your confusing thoughts behind at the table.

I don’t need to worry about that, he said so himself.

Strangely, you believed him. There was so much you questioned about König- who he was and what he wanted from you. But, he was not out to harm you this way felt like certainty.

It was a lot of work to clean the house by yourself and prepare everything for the visit. You scrubbed the wooden floor, cleaned the kitchen, and set the table in preparation for later.

The only thing left to clean was you.

You looked down at your worn dress and your stained apron.

Yes, all that was left to clean was you and your clothes. Indecisive, you balanced back and forth from your toes to the ball of your feet. You could just not do that.

König maybe wouldn’t even notice.

But you had to clean your clothing at some point and needed to wash yourself with more than just the water from the well, no matter how much you feared the deep waters after nearly drowning.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before collecting your laundry in a basket and grabbing a little piece of soap.

“Master Heron!” you called, stepping out of the house, “I am going down to the river to do some washing.”

The bird, dosing in the shadow, opened his eyes.

“Let me go with you, maiden,” It spoke as it staggered up on its twiggy legs.

“It’s fine,” You heard yourself say with a security you did not feel. “I should be back soon.”

The bird tilted its head as if giving you a judging look but said nothing as you waved and walked from the house.

Normally, you would wander through the village, calling for someone to come with you. Maybe one of your friends that wanted to wash themselves as well or a tired parent in need of having to do some quick laundry for the little ones. But you could not do that anymore. All of them had agreed to shun you because of the rumour of your curse. Or maybe they laid in wait for you to die or vanish to steal your family’s house and fields. The veneer of civility had grown thin, and you did not know anymore what monstrous act would come out of the village next.

The day was warm, and it was almost pleasant to wander at the edge of resting fields and through the woods with the jays singing and playing high above your head in the trees. Instead of going to your usual spot, you decided to walk up-river to make sure you would be alone and not accidentally meet someone from the village. At a spot with shallow waters and lots of gravel and stones, you decided to dare enter the water. With a quick glance around the waters and a firm stare at the water, you undressed and stepped inside.

Fear and pleasure instantly fought inside of you.

The water was warm from the sun and the sun kissed gravel filled riverbed. But it was water, and you felt the soft but steady flow tugging around your ankles. Carefully and with clenched teeth, you tiptoed on until you were in the water to your knees and deep enough to start washing your clothes. Putting down the basket onto one of the bigger stones rising from the water you paused. Your breath was laboured as if fighting again for air. Heaving and gasping you stood there, until your mind slowed down enough for you to grab your little soap and start scrubbing the first piece of fabric.

Banning all other thoughts from your mind you worked through your pile of laundry and distributed your clothes onto warm stone for drying until you were done.

Now all you had left to do was wash yourself in deeper water.

You opened your plaits and raked through them a few times with your fingers as much as you could, massaging your scalp to calm yourself just like your mother and friends had done for you like you had done for them.

With your little soap in your hand, you stepped further into the water. At half your thigh you stopped, the water getting dark and deep before you.

Just like the pond.

“What a whore! Presenting your ass to the world and running around naked. Do you want to be taken that much? Is that how you got this König?”

You jumped around.

At the edge of the riverbed stood Ivar, arrogant and with a furious look in his eyes.

“You lied,” he accused, and you twitched from fear under the hatefulness of his words. “You lied, did you not? Who is this König?”

“Did you follow me, Ivar?” A different kind of fear rose in your throat.

“Answer me, whore!” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger towards you. ” Did you present yourself to this man like you do to me now?”

You glanced at the water in front of you. There was no escape except for the dark swirling river.

“I did not and have never presented myself ever to anyone, Ivar. And even if, what would that be to you?” You answered with more calm than you felt, “You are the one creeping around and staring at me washing myself. It’s in your mind not mine.”

You turned around, facing Ivar, “What is wrong with you, Ivar? Have you nothing better to do? Can you not see that I have nothing, am nothing and will never be anything to you? Leave me!”

It was as if those words, despite your fear and nakedness, resonated from somewhere deep inside of you, not out of fear or pride, but from the continuous exhaustion of having to fight.

He stared at you, speechless and with a surprised face before anger and hatred twisted and scrunched his features again.

“Whore!” Ivar screamed. “How dare you? I will teach you how to talk to me!”

Not caring about the water and his shoes, he stepped into the river, reaching forward and for you. Whimpering and stumbling, your foot slipped on one of the smooth river stones underneath the watery surface, making you fall.

Your head hit the river and you screamed, swallowing water, not air.

In a panic you scrambled to get up again, your foot slipped again, and lost purchase on the stone littered river floor.

A hand snatched you, your hands swinging and scratching, trying to land kicks in Ivar’s direction – the fear of Ivar bigger than the fear of water.

Instead of letting you go, the hand yanked you from under the water and you coughed, gasping for air. Water ran over your face, blinding you, blood rushing through your ears, making you lash out again at Ivar.

Instead of a hit, Ivar gripped your hands and pressed you closer and held you steady.

The water dripped off your face, clearing your vision slightly.

“Shhh, shhhh, shhhh, it’s me. It’s me, beautiful. It’s okay. You are safe,” König mumbled above you. König held you in his arms, hushing you and keeping you lifted out of the waters. Safe. 

Your gasping for air turned into sobs, shaking your body as you clung to him.

“Where do you come from?” You heard Ivar shout from somewhere.

“Leave!” König growled, “Leave or die, Ivar.”

Ivar screamed something but you weren’t listening. Your sobs too loud for you to catch the man’s words as you cried.You had done nothing wrong and kept to yourself. Only once had you dared leaving your house on your own and it brought you nothing but misery. Frustration and exhaustion rolled down your checks.

After a while, your shaking and your sobs grew less violent, and a tired calm settled into your bones. König still held you, not moving or saying anything, just keeping you close and swaying around slightly like a boat on a lake.

“Is he…”

“He is gone,” König hummed. “Fear nothing, my bride.”

Shifting around you remembered that you were naked in his arms.

“König, can you let me go please?” you croaked.

He nodded and started to move you down, but as the water splashed against your legs, you shrieked and jolted back up, away from the dark water.

“Sorry, could you let me down on land?” you asked while fighting to calm your breath once again.

He waded out of the river and put you down onto the stony beach before turning around, checking your left out laundry from the stones.

“They are still wet, dear.” He called over, “Are you okay with waiting a bit more for them to dry? I can keep you company and get them for you once they are done.”

You nodded and sat down, covering your naked form as much as you could with your arms and angled legs.

König returned and sat down next to you, leaving a bit of space between you, and stared at the water in silence. Exhaustion crept up your body, a lull of calm from the rush of adrenaline.

“Thank you.”

König only nodded at your words. He looked human, naked, as if he was here to bathe in the river. His skin tanned and touched by the sun, his hair open and wavy from the water.

It felt normal sitting next to him as if it meant nothing that neither of you was clothed, just two people enjoying the summer days without expectation or judgement.

Your eyes fell onto bloody scratches on his arms.

“Did I do that?” you asked, feeling guilty pointing at his arms.

“You were in a panic. It is nothing. It will heal.” König waved it off as if it meant nothing. “Are you feeling better?”

You considered the question, how much it asked and how you felt alone, broken, and abandoned by everyone you had known. You were trapped hanging onto a house reminding you of all you had lost, trapped with the villagers wanting you gone or dead, trapped in a promise of marriage you never really agreed on. And now you have discovered more things to fear than ever before.

The loneliness.

The water.

Ivar.

König lifted his arm at your continued silence, and you moved closer to lean against him. It was simple. König was part of the trap around you. He was strange and there were many things you did not understand about him.

But he was warm and there for you.

His body solid against your shattered frame and you felt no shame leaning against him and enjoying his comforting arm around you.

“How did you know I needed help?” you asked.

“The water.” König said, “I rule all that flows. I knew you were here and wanted to give you some space. But as soon as Ivar stepped into the water, I knew something was wrong.”

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Dear,” König paused carefully, “with your blessing I will kill Ivar. He has tried to harm you too often. He will not cease unless he is stopped but no one will do that except us.”

You felt nothing as you heard those words, no shock or surprise or fear.

All your once blooming kindness for Ivar as a friend of your father was gone.

You did not even feel happiness at the thought of him feeling a twinge of fear or pain like he had caused you.

“They will say I have cursed him too.” You stated monotonously.

“Likely.”

For a brief moment you thought about Ivar’s family and all the others grieving and pointing at you, calling you his murderer - death by curse. You couldn't care less anymore what the village might say about you anymore.

“Let them talk.”

X

Cultural content notes:

Black tea or just ‘tea’ is very popular in many eastern European, Asian and north-west German regions. It’s not super correct timeline wise but we’ll ignore that. This is just a not so subtle way of including tea culture stuff.

“Мыть кости” is Russian and means to gossip about someone. Its literal translation is to wash someone blank to their bare bones.

 Soap (the item not the character) is not a modern invention. I remember my family buying this tallow-based soap for cleaning which is from one of the simplest soap recipes I know of and likely would fit into the geographical space this story is set in. It’s essentially just the oil from the tallow and ash, making a simple but effective cleaning product which theoretically could be made at home everywhere. I would like to add that Aleppo, the city in Syria, has had a somewhat continuous production of fine soap made from olive oil since the 8th century. I found that remarkable.

X

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @fatedeniedhope @queensidillasworld @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

[itsagrimm]

He who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 3 - The Fish, the Fox and the Fairy Lights

CN mentions of cannibalism in a fairytale-esk way, implied mentions of femicide, arranged marriage, sexism and patriarchy, talking animals, slight dip into paranoia, isolation, missing dead family and human connection, mourning process and grieving, talk of sex, talk of ‘virginity’ and insecurity, eating habits that could be read as pica behaviour, generally food and weight play a bit of a role here but not in a judgy way.

Much tanks to @queenquazar for editing and pointing out that yes indeed we can go more monstrous and that this is in fact very sexy and romantic.

Masterlist

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

It became a silent ritual. You got up, dressed, and stepped into the garden after the knocks on your door. Every morning you collected a new pile of fish from König under the watchful eyes of the Heron. And with the fish, arrived a fresh stack of firewood and two buckets of water, ready for you at your doorstep.

Reliable and useful. It was a nice gesture…or a trap.

It made you uneasy.

Taciturn, you kept to yourself, mumbling a few polite words to the heron, and staying mostly around the house for the rest of the day. Now alone, you had plenty of things to do. 

No one was there to share the work with you. No friends or neighbours to help with repairing the house or harvesting berries or sharing some of the household chores. Biting your lips, you laboured on alone, no longer crying yourself to sleep at night but falling asleep as soon as you closed your eyes.

The silence was the hardest. It broke you down more than any working day could. No words or gossip or laughter or songs filled the house anymore, grinding your need for seclusion down.

The only companion you had were your own creaks and groans as you struggled with heavy tools and an even heavier, lonely heart.

One day, you could not bear it anymore.

“Does König catch these fish, master heron?” You asked casually while walking through the grass, wet from morning dew, a big bowl already in your hands.

“Yes, he goes fishing. For you! The fox told me,” The heron replied and swayed on its spindly legs like branches of the willows in the wind, “The dirty furball insists on guarding you at night. Of course, he only does it for the fish he gets from the King if you ask me. He thinks it's clever and subtle.”

“And you? What do you get?” you asked as you kneeled to pick up the fish. Crucian carp and walleye this time.

The heron master cackled, the sound loud and teasing in the morning air.

“Maiden,” it said, “I may be a bird flying high above the King’s deep kingdom, but I fish on his waters – his kingdom is right below the surface I stare at for hours. Serving your husband and earning his good will is better than a fish or two from him. Besides,” It cackled again, “you will make a fine, kind queen. You share your food with me every day!”

You smiled politely, “Governed by the stomach are we then, master heron?”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Indeed. A chalice then, again?” you asked simply as you grabbed some wood for the cooking.

“It would be very welcome.”

You nodded before grabbing the buckets and closing the door behind you.

Alone again… to some degree. Except for a fox guarding you at night, a heron at day, and König visiting your house as you slept. 

You had been right with the feeling of eyes on you.

Sinking in the chair, you stared at the bowl with fish. It was too much, far too much for only you to eat. Maybe König wanted you to cook for him as well? To share a meal, have a bit of company. He helped you, after all.

Like a husband would.

You shook your head at the thought.

No, you did not know him, did not know why he wanted to marry you and what he wanted with you. As far as you were concerned, he could still plan on fattening you up to eat later. You remembered stories of girls getting married, only to vanish. Why else would he bring you food but not visit you otherwise?

You pushed the thought aside, the air of death terrifying, threatening to cripple you now with memories too fresh to be just memories. 

The pond was still too real.

You got up and started to pile up the wood. The heron was right. Everyone had something to gain, and you needed to know what a king from under the waters wanted from you.

You were just a peasant girl, you thought to yourself as you lit up the fireplace. No ordinary king from the cities knew of you or cared about this village, likely never even heard of it and certainly not about you. Kings married queens. Princes married princesses. No one married the poor bumpkin without a family. All you had was the flesh on your bones, the hair in your plaits, and the dress on your skin.

But König was no ordinary king.

He was no human.

And he chopped the wood for you.

The thought of the strange, tall man, collecting and chopping wood for you in the dark made you chuckle.

How royal.

How odd.

Was that what kings did? 

You had no idea. What you needed was to learn more about him. You looked at the pile of fish and grabbed your knife. Maybe you needed to face your fears before the silence took you as the waters once tried to do. And maybe you could get to know your future husband a bit better over a shared meal.

This night you forced yourself to stay awake. Not lighting any fire or candle, you sat in your kitchen, wrapped in a scarf against the cold, and waited while sipping on your Sage tea.

Gathered by your mother and dried hanging from the roof of the kitchen, it calmed your nerves. It’s mild taste pleasant on your tongue, comforting and familiar.

You listened.

Outside the leaves rustled, the wind making the birch trees in the garden sway. The light steps of an animal walking close to your house, eating and smacking from the plate with fish left out, made you lift your head.

That must be the fox.

You took another sip.

An owlet cried somewhere in the woods, it’s “Kowitt, Kowitt!” hushed in the distance. It reminded you of your brother. He used to imitate all those cries, claiming one day he would learn all the bird’s sounds. He did not get to that.

Tock, tock, tock! The sound of wood getting chopped made you put your thoughts and your tea aside.

You got up, checked your plaits, and straightened your shoulders before grabbing your prepared package and stepping out of the house.

It was dark. The moon wasn’t even half full, so dark you could barely make out the steps down and into the garden.

“There, there. Here comes the bride!”

You stilled at the sound of the unknown voice.

“Is that you, master fox?” you asked into the darkness.

A rustling sounded before something warm pressed itself to the side of your legs and you smelled the little animal.

That definitely was the fox.

“Master?” the fox spoke with an amused ring, “So the heron was right. You are polite. No one ever calls me that. Say, why are you up and out at night, hm? It is dangerous for pretty women and future queens. You might run into monsters.”

“From my experience monsters care very little if the sun is up or down to be dangerous,” You replied. “But I could use some help walking at night. Would you like to make sure I don’t fall by accompanying me?”

The little animal around your knees shifted and smelled your hands. You felt a cold, wet, snout at the tips of your fingers.

“And where might you want to walk, eh?” the Fox said.

“To König.”

Immediately it stopped twisting and turning around you.

“Oh… OH!” The Fox exclaimed, “How romantic. Or stupid. In my experience, those two things can be very similar, hm? I will bring you to the king.”

For a quick moment the Fox left your side and stood in silence before a cold, wet snout at your shoulder nudged you onwards.

With wide eyes you moved.

“Don’t you worry, queen,” The fox rumbled somewhere above you, “I see well enough for two at night. You just walk.”

You nodded, too speechless from the tiny fox suddenly being tall enough so that you walked between its front legs, holding onto his fur to steady yourself.

“You are a brave one, eh?” The fox spoke.

“It is not like I have a choice.” You replied as you walked. “But, I am only putting out only one plate for you, no matter how tall you make yourself. I cannot have the heron accuse me of favouritism.”

A deep grumble erupted behind you, a laugh, you realised, as you stepped somewhere deeper into the forest. The ground changed from soft grass to  roots threatening to trip you, despite clinging onto the fox’s leg.

“How stern of you, maiden,” The fox teased.

You walked on, further, and further, deeper into the woods, with the sound of chopping coming closer and closer, louder with each thwack.

Finally, the Fox stopped.

“King of all that is under the water!” The large animal rumbled through the dark forest, “I brought to you your bride. She wanted to see you.”

The chopping sound stopped, as an axe was driven down onto the wooden block.

“What a surprise! Here I thought humans sleep at night,” you heard König say, “Thank you, Fox.”

You felt the animal move and suddenly you were alone again in the dark.

“How are you, my bride?”

“I,”you started, thinking about what you could say before deciding to go with the most practical, “I cannot see you. Do you have a light?”

A chuckle, an amused human chuckle, sounded through the forest before you heard a few whispered commands.

You waited for a heartbeat in the dark, listening to the owlet cry far, far away now.

“There they are,” König spoke into the dark.

You looked around. Little swamp lights danced around the trees, coming closer with soft laughter and with it an alluring feeling of security. You felt your legs long to walk with them, wanting to go with those lights wherever they went, laugh and dance with them the whole night.

A hand grabbed you by the arm, breaking the spell.

It was König, his hand firm and warm on your skin.

He stood beside you, casting a long shadow with his frame.

You looked up, confused as to what happened.

“You must not go with the swamp lights, or you might drown for good, bride,” he muttered, “Do not look at them. Ignore them. Enjoy their light from afar, and you are safe.”

Dizzy from the light’s callings, you nodded, blinking slowly.

König’s eyes were light and reflective, like the water mirroring the moon. Aside from that, he looked human. A young man with a trimmed beard and kempt hair..

Good-looking.

Bashfully, you turned away. That is not what you came here for.

“Why are you here, bride?” he asked and tugged you to a fallen tree.

You sat down on the wood, and he took a seat on the ground in front of you. With his tall size you were near eye-level with him and his watery eyes.

“I wanted to see you,” you trailed off. You had made plans, thought up words, explanations, lies. Now, all gone and forgotten, you were left with nothing but yourself.

“Are the Fox and the Heron not treating you well? Did Ivar return after all, and I have not heard?”

“No. it is all fine,” You paused. König looked so real, so unlike the terrifying stranger haunting your mind when you were alone. Maybe you could marry this man and become what your grandfather had wanted you to become.

“Why do you want to marry me?”you ventured.

The watery, bright eyes blinked before settling on you again.

“The old man told me stories of kings- of kingdoms. What it is supposed to be like.” A soft smile danced over his lips.

“I am a king of a kingdom. I have all that is supposed to be of kings. All I am missing is a queen. That would be you.”

“So, you want to marry me because I accidentally became available to you? Because my grandfather offered my hand in marriage?”

“Yes.”

It was your turn to blink. Was that all to it? Was it just a swampy being playing king and you got caught up in it? No other intentions other than that?

“How is it supposed to work?” You asked, “I am a human. I am much smaller than you, and I need air.”

“I thought about it and have decided to build a new palace. That is why I have been so busy. It will be both in the water and on it. You will have to tell me what else you require to live except air. As you can see, currently, I am getting the wood ready needed for the foundation.”

He pointed at the fallen trees and chopped wood.

“And for the size – we can put you on a chair or something.” He eyed you up and down before adding, “maybe we put that chair on a box too. But it will work.”

“How?”

“What do you mean how? You will look taller that way.”

“What about when I am not on the chair and the box?”

Confusion knitted his brows.

“I don’t know. For what else do queens need to be representative for?”

You eyed him with confusion. You knew little about what queens were expected to do. But, you figured it included other marital expectations… bedroom expectations.

You felt your face turn hot.

“König,” you asked. “How do you think people marry among humans?”

He tilted his head, “I was told there is a feast.”

“And?”

“And then the bride and the groom stay together for the night.”

“Yes?”

“I suppose they have a good night’s sleep.”

“I doubt there is much sleeping going on during a wedding night,” You snorted.

“Oh,” He paused. “Oh. I did not know that.” He cleared his throat.

“We don’t have to do that.” He shrugged, “Who could tell anyway? And who would care to ask?”

You looked down at your fingers, your left hand nervously fumbling with the package you bought with you. Was it odd to know he was willing to lie to not… to not touch… not to feel… You were unused to thinking of yourself this way, assuming once you would get married, your mother and your already married girlfriends from the village would tell you all about this. But they were all gone, you were about to marry a man from the swamp, and all those things would always stay a mystery to you. You did not even know what it was you were missing, not even sure how to name it.

“Is that fish?” König asked, “ I smell fish. That is fish!”

Relieved for the change in topic you nodded.

“Yes, I wanted to say thank you for all the food you brought me. It is very thoughtful.”

You passed him the package.

“It’s not much but, maybe, you would like to have some din-”

The words stopped coming out of your mouth as König took the package and gobbled it up in one go without even unpacking it from the pressed birch bark.

With your mouth still hanging open you starred.

He bit down with a crunching sound on the fish and bark, his sharp teeth reflecting the swamp lights before chewing a few times with a thoughtful look on his face as if he was tasting something for the first time.

You closed your lips before you choked on the dinner invitation on your tongue.

“Ah, so that is how cooked food tastes like,” He finally stated after swallowing down with an audible sound, “Delicious. Thank you very much, my bride!”

He licked his fingers with a wet slurping sound and wiped his face from the birch bark crumps with those large clawed hands - hands that looked like they could snap your neck like it was a stick.

He burped before continuing.

“Pardon. It’s nice, easier to eat this way than when they still wiggle.”

Still fixing whatever face you were making into something less baffled, you mumbled an, “I need to go,” and got up.

König rose with you, whispering a few commands.

“The lights will guide you home. You humans can’t see in the dark, right?”

“Ah yes. Thank you.” You replied weakly and turned around to leave.

“Wait,” he called after you. “What was it that you wanted to say?”

You turned back. König looked at you, waiting patiently for you to speak. The terror was still in your bones, the crunching sound still ringing in your ears as he bit into the package like it was nothing. Was that what he could do with you too? Your body frail and fragile against the large and imposing König and he only waited for you to become his to do as he pleased with you and your body, consuming it whole like he had with your little gift?

“I-“ you began, fumbling with your now empty hands.

He waited as your heart raced fast against your ribs. A part of you screamed that you needed to run from this terrifying man who wanted to parade you around on a chair as his queen, ate like you had only seen in your recent nightmares and nearly drowned you. He was no human and commanded powers you did not understand.

But then he looked at you, a kind, patient face, who stood up for you when you needed it and was concerned for well-being.

It’s for now. I am safe until the wedding, you thought to yourself.

“I wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with me, sometime?”, you said out loud.

XXX

Notes for better understanding:

-   I use the word ‘plaits’ for readers hair to describe the braided hair style of the reader I know as ‘косы’. Since translating it as braids technically would have also been correct but invokes a different meaning for most English speakers due to distinct cultural codes, I used ‘plaits’. However, if you have braids or hair that can be braided, feel free to read the word ‘plaits’ as ‘braids’ or at least understand yourself as included in the description. This was very much a technical translation problem with words not being translatable 100% and ‘косы’ simply meaning any type of braided or plaited hair.

-   some of you might not be aware of foxes’ smell. It’s a very strong and not pleasant to most.

-  Female owlets cry ‘Kowitt!” which sounds like the german ‘komm mit’ / ‘come with me’. Therefore, it is said in German folklore that the owlets are birds of death wanting to take a soul with them or warning of the impending death of those who listen to it because it was heard so much around the dead and dying. Owlets and many other nightly birds of prey were hunted because of that in German speaking regions. The real reason for owlets crying around the dead is a different one: the lights of the wake for the dead drew the birds in at night.

-   Sage grows wild nearly everywhere and is calming as well as anti-inflammatory. It is a medicinal tea so one should not drink it regularly due to it being very potent. Also, the sage reader is drinking is a native sage known as green sage so please don’t go and get white sage if you just want to have a tea.

- birch bark is a very versatile resource used in many cultures as a means to e.g. write on or to make other wares out of it

XXX

Taglist: @thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 10 - Little Giants

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN: Near drowning, fear of drowning, dead animals, food and drink mention, mentions of slaughtering and preparing hunted animals, animal blood, mentions of kidnapping and abusing women, technically what Bride does is self-harm.

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the patient @queenquazar. thank you so much for reading several versions and listening to my ramblings.

6.3k words

Masterlist

I wanted to put more into this chapter but +7k words pre-edit made it unavoidable to cut it at some point. that's why the ending is a bit sudden. sorry.

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

Your dream was hazy like all dreams are. It was the golden hour of day with the summer heat cooling down, and the light of the sun turning everything into the most pleasant of sights. It changed you too, with your wedding dressing and braided hair. In all your golden shine, you floated over the fields and forest grounds like you were weightless, nothing standing in your way as you travelled to your wedding ceremony. No human walked with you - the village was long behind you, your family dead. Instead, there were laughing Rusalkis greeting you, the Fox and the Heron peeking from behind trees, swamp lights dancing happily and leading the way further and further until you arrived at-

The pond.

A dark green abyss, a maw in the ground of the lush summer forest, ready to take you and swallow you whole.

You were happy as you finally stepped onto the wood planks where your grandfather used to fish so long ago.

One, two, three… With quick steps you made your way to the end of the planks and gazed down into the dark murky water. There was nothing to see. Only endless water and darkness. For a moment you wavered, uncertain if this was what you wanted as the maw stared up to you with unforgiving finality.

You stepped back, unsure of what to do. That is when König arrived.

He came from under the water, rising from the pond like a being of a different time with water running down his skin and eyes burning in a blue you have drowned in already. His hair was wild and tangled with all that was in the water. His hands were clawed and his appearance as frightening as the first day you saw him.

“You are afraid, Bride,” he said and straightened up high into the sky, so much higher than usual, nearly touching the sky and so far out of reach. The water of the pond followed, rising with him and bit by bit closer to the shore, to the planks.

You screamed as the water touched your feet, the hem of your dress, your knees, and hips. Screams like you had heard outside of your house sounded through the forest, dreadful and frightening. You tried to run and reach for one of the trees to get up higher and away from the dreaded water.

“König!”you screamed, “what are you doing? I am afraid!”

But he could not hear you over the rush of water and screams, so far up and away from you. Did he even care?

The water rose higher and higher to your belly, your chest and shoulders, your neck. Fear was gripping at your heels, making you stumble as you dragged your body through the floods and closer to the shore and treeline.

A wave splashed in your face, and you gasped for air only to swallow water.

“Please!” you cried, reaching upwards for anything to save yourself.

“Please!” you managed one more time before the water reached your head, punching all air and hope out of you. The maw trying to swallow you whole.

Please, you thought to yourself before closing your eyes. All strength leaving your body and bubbles of precious air making its way up where you belonged too but could reach no more.

It was cold, dark, and wet.

Your kicking feet were starting to freeze in the dark water, cold, so cold.

Trying to escape the dark you opened your eyes, gasping for air as your body tensed up from the lack of oxygen and swallowing cold maw closing in on you.

Above you was the all familiar sight of your room's ceiling greeted you, indifferent as always with its knots in the wood staring down at you like unblinking eyes.

At your feet the lingering sensation of cold and wet stayed as the dream faded.

You sat up and screamed.

König was deep asleep and draped around your bed like a sea serpent encircling a besieged island. Water flooded your room up to your bed with your feet already in the closing in water and not much dry space left for you to save yourself too.

“König!” you screamed in terror, “Wake up!”

No reaction, his deep breathing stayed slow and peaceful, undisturbed by your screams of help from the dreaded flood.

You scrambled up onto your pillow and grabbed your blanket, bunching it up into a ball and throwing it at König’s head.

“Have you lost your mind? Get up!”

The walls and the water started to come closer, looming over you as if just waiting for a chance to strike and take you as your eyes darted through the room without focusing on anything

Asshole.

The thought went through your body like lightning hitting a tree, setting you ablaze and forging you into something sharp.

Giant, sleepy asshole.

Anger was taking over your panic.

Yes, this felt better. Fury gave you the will to think and move instead of freeze and drown. The water was a problem. It had to be Königs doing. But this was your room?! When did he enter and why? And how did he flood the room?

A shiver went through you at the thought of König flooding the whole region for good – the village, the garden, your family’s house.

You screamed again hoping it would wake König up. Your muscles tensed with welcome strength as you howled like a trapped animal.

Still no reaction from him except for a few louder snores.

Of all the bad past mornings you had waking up, this was the worst.

“I hope you are having a lovely dream” you seethed as you tried to avoid as much of the little waves threatening to flood your last sanctuary.

“Hello?” You called, “Anyone here?”

If König was not waking up, you had to save yourself from this, not ready to wait and hope for the best as the water slowly threatened to sink your sanctuary. Your eyes fell on König and his sleeping frame. He looked peaceful, indifferent to the havoc he caused. His long limbs were wrapped around your bed as if still in sleep he had guarded you. Tangled, messy hair hid most of his face as always. And his skin had the shimmer of scales on it. Asleep and half submerged in water, König looked at peace.

Maybe there was an explanation for all of this.

It’s better be a good one, you thought to yourself as you tried to calm yourself enough to get yourself out of this flooded mess of a room. A different emotion reared its head inside of you as you watched König, regretting that you yelled at him in fear – soft and filled with hope that this would turn out okay.

König snored softly as he shifted his body around your bed, causing your mattress to lift and float on the little waves.

You looked around for a way to help yourself. Your chest with your clothes was solid enough to not be moved by the currents yet was flooded and under water. And the door would be impossible to open with the pressure of the water weight in your room pushing it shut. But the window was close enough for you to… Carefully you got up on your little mattress island, stepping forward onto König’s shoulder jutting out of the floods and finally making your way to the window, opening the window frames, and saving yourself onto the windowsill.

He only shifted around before calming down again and continuing his deep slumber.

“This is a nightmare”, you moaned as you peaked outside.

Outside the garden was as usual. No flooding, no water and most importantly no ladder for you to climb onto and get down into the garden.

You looked back into your room were the water sloshed around your room in its full implausibleness while the rest of the world continued as always.

“Ah, you made it. I knew you would make it. Yes, yes.”

You looked around to discover the Heron standing on the ceiling and watching you from its spot.

“Heron! Why did you not help me?”

The bird shrugged as much as a bird could shrug.

“No hands,” It explained. “How was I supposed to open the window for you, hm? Really, I am just a regular bird after all.”

“Sure” You deadpanned, not feeling like arguing with the speaking bird. “Would you mind helping and getting someone who can help me climb down from here without breaking a bone, and who can help wake up König?”

“The honourable Vodyanoy is asleep?” The Heron asked. “I suppose that should not be a surprise, he has pushed himself a lot these past weeks. Everyone has their limit.”

The bird nodded to himself and stretched out his wings before taking off.

“Stay where you are, I’ll be back in no time.”

Obviously, where was I supposed to go from here? You thought to yourself bitterly and brought your knees up to your body. It was a lovely summer morning, but the heat had not set in yet and you were perched up on the shadowy side of the house wearing nothing but your simple night dress.

You looked back at König.

Had he really pushed himself so much that he had passed out, still trying to do right by you and keep his promise to keep you safe even in his sleep and curling around you like a mother cat around its young?

Not that it had helped much. Your room was flooded now. Your heart was still beating like you had barely survived a drowning, which was not too far from the truth. And you could not wake König for the life of it.

Why did he not say something? How was I supposed to know how tired he was?

The thought of being sheltered and kept in the dark because König thought you untrustworthy or helpless hurt you more than you wanted to deal with, and you pressed your nails into your legs, trying to fight the cold numbness and your dark thoughts away.

A breeze kissed your cold and clammy skin and you pressed your teeth together to distract you.

“Ha! The Bride did not run off!” The Heron cackled as it landed back on the ceiling.

“Funny.” You turned back from watching the soundly sleeping König and faced the heron. “Thank you for your help, Heron.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You eyed the Heron, who probably saw this as a new amusing way of getting itself into your good graces, absolutely hoping you would mention it later to König at some point or get it some fish or another less obvious favour.

“Who did you get, Heron?”

“Your future brother-in-law.”

“What?!” It snapped out of you with a sharpness that surprised you. But freezing and trembling on your windowsill after escaping your nightmare first and your flooded room second, you felt yourself less and less willing to engage with niceties.

Regardles of what you had always been told – to be nice and make a good impression on your in-laws.

“You look stressed.”

You shrieked, nearly falling off the windowsill, and looked up to follow the sound of the deep voice.

Above you, as if leaning over the house like a child’s doll house, was a giant. With unblinking eyes, he stared at you - dark and unmoving. As if he was a being unaffected by time and you just a curiosity that would vanish in a human heartbeat if he blinked. He had a mask over his head, a deer’s skull maybe for it had antlers. But there were sharp teeth in it, reminding you that König had mentioned more than one being out there on the hunt for your flesh.

Unable to move and hoping for the best, you just stared up.

“What happened with my brother, little Bride?” the giant stranger asked after what felt like an eternity.

You blinked and the world was still there.

“He fell asleep, and I cannot wake him,” You answered with a thin voice and hoped for the best.

The giant shook his head, and it was like a giant tree shook its giant crown, with wind rustling through leaves and a flock of birds taking off somewhere in the giant's crown.

“The boy overdid it again. Allow me.”

The giant stepped around the house, looking like he was shrinking himself before standing comfortably before you and peaking inside your room.

“You are in the way,” He said and grabbed you from your spot, lifting you up and putting you down on the grass before you could even catch your breath to scream from surprise.

“Hey, fishhead!” the giant grumbled and stretched his arm inside your bedroom window.

“Wake up! You are flooding your girl’s room.”

“Минуточку,” you heard out of your room as you got onto your feet and crossed your arms to keep warm as you watched the giant trying to wake up your future husband.

“Forget минуточку! You are being rude and making a flood again. Get out of that puddle.”

“Urgh. Отстань.”

The terrifying giant rolled his eyes and stepped back.

“Sleepyhead,” he mumbled to himself before looking down at you.

Instinct was telling you to step back, to run away or at least lift your hands and shield yourself from what was about to happen to you next.

Instead, you froze to your spot.

“Pardon me,” the giant declared and stepped closer, shrinking himself into an even more manageable size to talk to you yet still looming over you like a tall human would.

“We have not met before, and I had not expected to stay long enough to introduce myself. I am a brother to your future husband. They call me Keeper of the Forest. But, I do not care about titles. You may instead call me Ghost.”

He bowed slightly and it looked concerning like an oak tree shaking in a terrifying storm.

You felt tiny, unsure and at a loss of words.

What was the appropriate thing to respond now?

Maybe it was best to rely on what your family always taught you after all – be polite and honest.

“Hello. You know who I am.” You said and bowed in greeting. “Thank you for help, Ghost. I had hopes we would have met under more usual circumstances but-”

“You mean the wedding. I was not planning on attending.” He interrupted with the finality of a falling tree.

Your heart sank.

“Oh.”

The pleasant song of birds in the morning was hanging over you as you stumbled through your thoughts to find anything useful to say.

“Is there something wrong with me and König marrying? I do not want to cause anything bad,” You asked.

Ghost looked at you, his skull covered face unmoving and unforgivingly blank.

“Do not worry, little Bride. Nothing wrong with you.”

Dread creeped up your spin and you shivered, unsure if it was of fear or from the cool morning breeze. Ghost, even in his smaller size loomed over you with dark eyes. And his words worried you.

Can I believe him? Was he a friend or a foe?

“You are cold, Bride. Let’s get you inside and warm. My brother would not forgive me if I would not keep you well while he is…” Ghost shifted his head around like he was considering plenty of words before settling on one, “… busy.”

Unsure if you even could say no you nodded and walked towards the house entrance. Ghost, without a sound, followed you and you could do nothing but watch his shadow casting figure behind you. At the door you turned to Ghost who followed you.

“Will it be safe, or will there be water, too?” You asked, eyeing your door for signs of a flood awaiting you behind it.

“We shall see.” Ghost stepped past you and opened the door, peeking inside before humming deeply with approval.

“No water.” He declared. “It seems like my brother's dreams only included your bedroom.”

Surprised by his teasing you felt your face go hot at the implications of Ghost's words and stepped into the kitchen.

“Wait here. Do not open the door,” He ordered and turned around, leaving you alone.

You looked around while you waited. Königs axe was outside. The broom was small and would not keep you safe from someone like Ghost. And you shivered like a branch in the winter wind before grabbing a forgotten blanket from an evening spent at the oven.

Covered with the blanket, you took a seat in your usual spot. It was warmer this way, having no dry clothes to change in with your wood chest under water.

You sighed. This would have to do.

Ghost was strange, terrifying and threatening. Unlike König with all his oddness and sheer size, you felt like petting a wolf who liked to play with its food.

König on the other hand…

He would never harm you.

You thought back to your dream and your flooded room above you.

Well, König would not harm you consciously, you thought, wishing he were here now.

The door opened again, and Ghost stepped inside, bowing his head to fit his horns through the door frame.

“I got you wood and water. Start a fire. I will be back.” He declared and left again as if there was no doubt you would do as he told you.

Wondering what Ghost was doing, but too afraid to ask, you got up from your spot and did as he told you. A fire to warm your cold and damp body and to make tea for you and your apparent guest, was reasonable enough to follow Ghost words.

After a while, right as the tea was ready, you started to set the tea table for you, Ghost and König, Ghost came back with a deer.

It was dead, hanging off his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“I’ll carve it up for you. Here, I got something smaller for now.”

With big eyes and careful steps you took the skinned hare from Ghost's hands.

Meat.

You could not remember the last time you had the luxury of meat.

Quickly you started to prepare a meal after Ghost left again, cutting up the rabbit and saving every bit of it while grabbing herbs, vegetables, and grains from your storage.

Putting everything in a pot over the oven, you stepped away. Still wrapped in your blanket and feeling a bit better, you argued with yourself what to do now. Ghost could have killed you or taken you away, instead he had brought you food and made sure you were alright. You weren’t entirely sure about him but maybe it was best to treat him like you were taught to treat any guest.

With a big breath you mustered up all your bravery and grabbed a cup with tea for Ghost.

Before your house, with König’s large axe in his hands, Ghost had started to skin and cut the animal. With the blood dripping into a large blood bowl, you could not help but squirm at the sight of the horned and masked giant with blood on his hands.

“I brought you tea,” You called over and placed the delicate little cup onto the cutting block normally used by König cutting for wood.

Ghost nodded and continued his work and you went back inside.

That went well enough.

You decided to stay close to the warm oven, stirring the stew and seasoning the buckwheat with wild garlic and a precious amount of rabbit bone.

At least you will be eating well thanks to Ghost’s help. You looked up to the ceiling. König would enjoy this too. He liked trying out whatever you prepared him, always eager to have cooked food the human way, as König liked to say.

Maybe you should try to wake him up again? Fighting the thought of water right above you, and with a final measuring look at the simmering pots, you wrapped your blanket firmly around your shoulders and went upstairs. No sound except your own feet on the old wooden and creaking stairs greeted you as you made your way up and to your own bedroom door.

“König?” You tried and knocked.

Behind the door waves crashed. Storms rose and quietened again. A whole ocean threatened to flood continents.

Guess he is still tired; you thought to yourself with disappointment and went back down again.

In the kitchen Ghost was awaiting you, having finished his work in the garden he was stringing up parts of his catch up above the oven to have it dried and preserved. With Ghost's uncanny ability to grow and shrink as he pleased, you wondered if König could do that too. If he could become the giant flooding the world on your wedding day like you had dreamed. Or if he could be tiny enough to sit in your lap as you played with his ever-tangled hair.

“Still asleep?” Ghost asked and stepped away from his work.

“Aye,” You answered and busied yourself with the food instead of having to face Ghost.

Ghost watched you before sitting down like a human would have done, choosing your brother's spot like he knew where he was supposed to be.

“He will wake up soon. Don’t worry, little Bride.”

You smiled politely and nodded.

“König had always been like that. Pushing himself and overdoing it instead of asking for help.”

You blinked.

“What was there to push himself for?”

“You.” Ghosts’ words rasped over your skin like a piece of dry wood. “Our kind is strong but not invincible. Everyone can break.”

Why? I am just the bride.

“It’s been a few stressful days and König has been doing a lot,” You looked down at your hands. “He will have his various reasons for it. Not just me.”

You looked up to give Ghost your bravest smile.

“Besides, what kind of fiancé would I be if I wanted such a sacrifice?” You added.

Ghost crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching you carefully.

“I suppose you are right, little Bride. No love requires sacrifice to be true.”

You shifted around again, uncomfortable talking about love with a stranger, future in-law or not.

“May I ask…“ you started carefully to change the topic, “Have you been inside a human house before? You move indoors with much more familiarity than König. You did not take to the floor and you knew about tea and cooking.”

“Not everyone in the family spends their time sitting around in swamps.” Ghost replied, sounding nearly amused.

You smiled at Ghost’s little jab, remembering how clueless König could be at times.

“But you are right, little Bride.” Ghost continued, more serious now. “I once was engaged. He lived in a house not unlike yours.”

“Was? What happened?”

Ghost shrugged, his antlers softly knocking against the wall behind him.

“He vanished as spring began without a word.” He began slowly. “One morning, just as the snow had started to melt, I woke up and he was gone. No trace left to track. Nothing. There is no one better at following the trails and tracks in the forest than me. But with no clue, there is nothing to trace.”

He paused.

“The only other option left is that I, in my ravenous dreams, swallowed him whole, eating my love in one bite.”

Ghost’s dark unforgiving eyes pinned you to your spot.

“Is that really-” you squeaked but his eyes bore into you like arrows.

“That is what we are - dangerous to the delicate and fragile humans. Even if we do not intend to kill or harm, we do. You witnessed it today how different my family and you are.”

Wide eyed you looked at him, unable to move. The power of his gaze was enough to subjugate you. Despite your clothes warming up you felt cold fear wash down your back and your limbs turned heavy as if you would fall down onto the floor the moment his gaze passed from you.

“That’s why you told König I will die,” You whispered, not daring to speak up.

Ghost nodded and the intensity in his eyes vanished, allowing you to move again and you fell onto your knees.

“Are you alright?”

His words confused you, his cruel demeanour so different to these three words.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, staggering back to your feet.

The blank skull mask on Ghost's face told you nothing. But his eyes shifted and turned sorrowful.

“Actions have consequences. I will have to live with mine,” Ghost stated. “But I hope I am wrong so that König will not have to live with his. I need you to understand how vulnerable you are so that you stay alive.”

You balled your hands into fists. How dare he do this to you? Make you crawl onto the floor of your own house and tell you how weak you are.

“I am sorry about what happened, Ghost,” Your voice was shaking but it was not from fear anymore. “But König - with all his flaws - is not like you. And I am not a doll you can just throw around and mistreat. I understand that you and your family are powerful while I am not. Believe me, I am very much aware of that. But if you really want to help me, do not intimidate me in my own house. Put your act behind your words and show me how to stay alive instead of how I can die.”

Ghost stared at you.

For a moment you feared that you had misspoken and that he would just get up and wring your neck or invite the villagers in while König was asleep. Your life ran through your fingers like it was drops of water falling down. All that anger started to leave you, making you feel shaky and cold again.

“The little Bride may have no teeth or claws, but she has brain and tongue to keep herself alive,” Ghost hummed approvingly under his skull mask. “You will fit right in with us.”

He paused.

“I am sorry.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“You heard me, Bride. I will not repeat myself.” He paused and something akin to mildness crept into his eyes . “What do you need me to do to stay alive?”

You swallowed.

The fear and rush of confrontation was still in your bones and you staggered to the table and to your seat like a newborn calf.

“Are you really okay with helping me?” you asked finally after a few moments of your thoughts running wild and still not believing that you had fought and won for once.

“Aye.”

You eyed the giant at your kitchen table.

“Please tell me more about the family I am marrying into, Ghost.” you asked.

He nodded.

“It is as simple as it is complicated. I don’t remember where we were from, but I remember being together as family. There were many of us, but some vanished. And some found their home far away from my forests or König’s waters, so I do not know what happened to them. But König and I were close until our nature called us away from each other. The water is as enticing to him as my forests are to me. He can not die or be harmed when he is in the water while I am strong when I walk among the trees.”

You listened intently.

“But we had another brother. He was very different from us. Graves, the Koshey. He calls himself King of Bones and Battlefields. Graves finds great liking in gaining more and he is never satisfied. However-”

Ghost eyed you pensively.

“- Graves is a great sorcerer and it is said he is immortal.”

You felt your face light up 

“König mentioned Graves. He said Graves could help me survive but was hesitant about asking him and then he was busy. I can not write so I did not do it myself but maybe Graves can tell me how I survive the presence of beings like you and König?”

Ghost hummed.

“A fair assessment. Graves loyalties and sides as he pleases. He cares little about anyone but himself and the occasional maiden he keeps in his castles.”

Ghost crossed his arms again, leaning back against the chair.

“But-” he added, “he has a thing for beautiful women and he likes to present himself as benevolent at times. It could be worth a try.”

Beautiful woman. Me?

You felt your eyes search your hands or the floor again instead of facing Ghost.

“I would like to try and get his help,” You spoke, trying to collect yourself again.

“I will write the letter for you if you want.”

You nodded and Ghost got up to get birch bark and a knife to write.

Quickly, he returned and started carving. While you tried to catch letters and words with your slow, unaccustomed eyes in between checking on the food.

I will practise, you promised to yourself as you watch in awe how quickly and fluently Ghost wrote.

After a while, he was done and leaned back.

“Would you like me to read it out to you?” he asked but you shook your head.

“You know Graves better than I ever will. I am sure you phrased it better than I could.”

And I would not know if you lied to me anyway, you mournfully thought to yourself.

Ghost nodded and passed you the rolled-up birch bark.

“Now you just need to find a way to send it to Graves.”

You lightened up.

“That won’t be a problem.” You called out and grabbed the bark. “Thank you so much.”

Quickly you turned on your heels, grabbed a dried-up fish and went outside to call the Heron.

It was lounging in the grass, cleaning its feathers.

“Fish.” The Heron stated. “You want something, Bride.”

“Am I that obvious?”

You stepped closer and sat next to the Heron in the grass.

The bird titled its head.

“I think you know the answer, Bride. Tell me what I can do for you while I eat that delicious fish in your hand and ignore what looks like a Messenger job in the other.”

You passed the Heron the fish and fixed the blanket around your shoulders.

“Would you like to have some cooked fish, too?” You asked innocently.

The Heron eyed you as it swallowed the fish in one go.

“Go on.”

“This letter needs to be delivered to my future brother-in-law, Graves.”

The Bird jolted up.

“What?! You want me to fly to the Koshey? What if he will eat me?”

“He will not.”

You looked over your shoulder to find Ghost standing in the doorway watching you.

“My brother, the Koshey, will not eat you, birdy.” He repeated. “You are too bony.”

“That’s so reassuring. Thank you so much!” The bird cried angrily. “The king of bones and battlefields is not known for his kindness. What if he feels like keeping me like he does with girls he likes?”

“You are the messenger of the future Vodynitza.” Ghost explained with annoyance in his voice. “As part of the Queen of Under the Water’s entourage and as a court messenger, you have protection.”

“I am more of a jester if you think you can send me to that wretched place!”

“You will quickly turn into an appetiser for me if you don’t start flapping your wings-”

“Please,” You interjected, giving Ghost a begging look for him to shut up, and turning back to the Heron.

“I am sorry I am asking for so much from you, Heron,” You started, laying your words out carefully. “It sure sounds terrifying. But do you really think Graves would start a fight with König and I simply because he feels like it? He sounds more like the clever type.”

The bird flopped back down.

“I suppose you are right,” It replied weakly.

“And you are a messenger carrying my letter. I would take great offence if something happened to you. And that would anger König.”

“Yes,” It croaked.

“See, you will be safe.”

The Bird rattled with its beak.

“Fine.” It gave in. “But I want soup once I am back. Shchi. Warm one. And made by you.”

“Consider it done, Heron. I will serve it in the most beautiful chalice I can find.”

The Heron staggered up and stretched its wings.

“Wish me luck, queen.”

“I am not yet- “you tired but the bird snatched the letter from your hands and took off.

With quick flaps the Heron rose into the sky and disappeared.

You watched from your spot before getting up and turning back to the house.

Ghost was still watching you.

“You are doing well for a delicate little human Bride.”

You gave Ghost a forced grimace.

“I am just trying my best.”

He grumbled something before stepping out of your door again and watched the treeline, listening to the song birds. The dark forest was inviting, its branches waving invitingly to come closer. It was like Ghost had changed from a man, odd and terrifying and full of powers you did not understand, to the Leshy. As if just the sight of the dark green rejuvenated him. Was this how König felt, too? How he craved to and needed to be in the water, in the swamps, in the rivers and ponds to feel like he was supposed to be? You thought back to the sleeping König and how peaceful he had looked as the water slowly filled your room. How much more he had looked like himself. 

“I need to go back soon.” Ghost rasped like an old oak. “Let’s try to wake up König one more time.”

Cultural Context Notes:

 Quick reminder that hair weaving or braiding is a traditional way of wearing longer hair in many Slavic cultures and due to imprecise translations, it can mean all types of braided hair styles.

I was thinking about using old church Slavonic for their little banter but using Russian was easier, sorry.

The somewhat random binary about men’s or women’s work is not really a thing when looking closer at history. Yes, plenty of women were expected to make clothes and do crafts. But so were men if they had the time and skill. Ghost stitching and crafting a Kokoshnik is not that off. 

I understand that not everyone is comfortable with meat as food or thinking about animals as something consumable. I have a hard time with it too. But meat was, and is, an incredibly luxurious item for people in central and eastern Europe, especially when it’s wild game. Daily meals historically included much less amounts of meat than most consume today because it was so expensive or hard to get. Wild game even nowadays is reserved for special occasions like Christmas or birthdays. And a Leshy bringing hunting meats when König as a Vodyanoy brings fish to Bride, is very coherent.

Yes, blood bowls are a thing. My grandparents have some as heirlooms from their parents who owned a farm and animals. But while these very wide, massive and simple bowls are perfect to catch and contain slaughter blood, nowadays they are primarily used as fruit bowls at my grandparents' place. However, I thought I’ll include this little detail because many people aren’t familiar with items that were used for food processing at home. Also, blood is used in several dishes to really use up everything from an animal. I am most familiar with the German style blood sausage but it appears to be a thing in other cultures as well to not waste very nutritious parts of the animal.

It's wild garlic season here but please be careful while collecting it. It’s easy to mistake it for poisonous plants like lilies of the valley.

Salt and plant-based fats were extremely expensive and hard to come by not long ago in central and eastern Europe, so a lot of seasoning included using the natural salt and fat content of animal products. I am only slightly sorry that this is slowly turning into educational historical cooking commentary. Also, I have to mention at this point that I am a vegetarian.

Plenty of eastern-European fairy tales have heroes with different qualities than in the central-European tradition. Being honest, knightly, and virtuous are qualities that are appreciated. Many of the main heroes regularly lie, cheat, or trick their way into luck. Being lazy or slow but still making it, is a regularly celebrated feature of many heroes in eastern-European tales. The reasoning is that due to the hero’s smarts and charisma they are good because they end up doing the good thing e.g. saving the princess or slaying the dragon. In comparison in more central-European tales the heroes are being “born good” and always make the right decision with their moral compass never being challenged or evolving because they are already perfect, therefore they are the heroes.

Shchi / Russian: щи is a type of soup. I only knew it as a fish soup but apparently there are meat versions of it as well and the fish version is only eaten during fasting times or when meat is not available. It’s a cabbage-based soup with some form of protein like fish or meat cooked with flour, cabbage, and spices. I included this because it’s an old food that has been around since the 9th century in the Kievan Rus. Also, this recipe is fascinating generally. Its name comes from the word "съто" which means so much as satisfied or not hungry anymore and apparently was a popular travelling food because it can be frozen and cut up in portions as needed. The last part is a bit funny but considering the continental climate in many eastern European and central Asian regions it absolutely checks out that foods mirror the climate they originate from.

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[itsagrimm]

i took a nearly year long break from a series and despite that I can see that the same handful of people are still reading it.

this means a lot.

thank you.

[itsagrimm]

Vodyanoy König ABC

From the series He who comes from under the water:

Animals

König likes them very much. Especially the frogs are his favourite due to their lovely singing voice. However the Fox and the Heron have grown on him too.

Baba Yaga

The one and only witch. Everyone else is but minor to her. She is dangerous and does as she pleases. She has no kingdom and knows no kings. Before her everyone is something between a nuisance and a mild entertainment.

Curses

Very simple but also very imprecise magic mostly done through word. Most curses happen accidentally when emotions run high. Most cruse attempts are ineffective. But some do work, wrecking massive havoc on the one cursed. Some curses just fly right back at the one who started the cursing. It is not required to be magically inclined to do an effective curse.

Dams

Those damn beavers keep building them, stopping the water from it's nice flow. König is not a fan. But at least they keep it minimal with the dams. Humans are worse.

Eyes

Don't look too long into a Vodyanoy's eyes. Otherwise there is a threat of drowning in them.

Floods

König was busy building the palace and keeping Bride alive so he had no time to cause one. But like floods that can change quicker than expected.

Grandfather

Old fishing companion and great source of stories about royal behaviour.

Hair

Always in the way! Glad the Bride knows how to braid hair. she is so wonderful, knowing all those fascinating practical human things and being so clever.

Ivar

A man from the village that keeps showing up and causing problems for Bride. One time he even tried to attack her. Ivar is the source of the rumor that Bride is cursed. For that alone König had contemplated visiting Ivar with his axe but held back so far to not endanger Bride by making her a revenge target for a feud.

Judgment

Lot's of judgment going on in Königs and Bride's life. König never cared much about other peoples opinions but he witnessed what the judgment of others did to Bride and now he thinks differently, paying much attention to rumours and whispers about himself and his future wife.

König

König is king of everything from under the water. He heard stories that kings require queens. So he is marrying to further his claim as king. And because it sounds fancy. Mostly it's fancy. Königin has quite ring to it and he used to think that the fancy ring was enough.

Love

A complicated topic for both König and the Bride. As far as they know their marriage will be a loveless one, both in the physical as in the psychological sense. Practically speaking König does know quite a bit about the lovemaking part yet very little about loving or being loved. Bride on the other hand never had the time or chance to experience much physical love, however she does know what it's like to be loved as a daughter, a sister, a friend. In very different ways they are very clueless.

Marriage

An older fisher once told him about the concept and then asked König to marry his granddaughter and take care of her.

Nudity

Clothes are to show off. A true Vodyanoy needs no clothes and only wears them bc the Bride or guests kept looking weird. König owns at least one fine coat. It's very drippy.

Owlet

They cry the death cry far too close to the Bride. She tries not to think about it for too much.

Palace

Since the Bride is human and cannot live under the water, König has taken it upon himself to build a palace he has named the Half-Palace. It's a beautiful building that if build on an island in the middle of a grand lake. The island is meant to be a garden for Bride once she moved there after their wedding. The Palace goes as high up as it goes down deep into the water so that bride can live in the Palace above the surface level while König can still reside under the water and reign over his underwater kingdom. The Palace required a lot of wood to be build.

Queen

One day König and Bride will marry, making her the Queen of everything from under the Water. It is unclear how she is supposed to reign over a kingdom she cannot enter.

Rain

More water. Big fan.

Siblings

A touchy subject as the family is in constant fight and turmoil. König and Simon used to be closer and spent much time as brothers but drifted apart. Graves is another brother with even less favourable memories for König.

Teacups

Great place to store things. Like souls and other miscellaneous things. You know, stuff.

Underwater

It scares the Bride. She nearly drowned a couple of times and since then she has done all her cleaning and washing in a bucket, carried into her kitchen by König.

Village

König has not wandered into the village. It's always so loud and busy. And now König has even less need to learn about those that harmed and shunned the Bride. Luckily the Bride's house is a bit off from the village with a grand garden around it.

Water

hmm, yes.

aXe (ahem)

A present from Ghost to König. Ghost likes to wander the forest and does not take likely to those who harm it and fell many trees. With this axe the trees fall swiftly and new tree shoots grow from the stumps. So Ghost bares the destruction with more tolerance than usual. However even König with his special axe does not dare to fell more trees than necessary. The axe has been used for fighting and killing as well.

You know..

...if you really read all that you must really like this series. Thank you very much for taking the time to read it. It means a lot to me.

Zauberei

Zauberei or magic is the things not understandable to humans like Bride. Which is surprising because humans do magic all the time. They stand in wonder of the beauty of the world. They love and hate. they create new things just from ideas springing out of their minds. König is always very impressed by these acts of magic.

[itsagrimm]

Do we know when a new chapter for he who comes from the water will be?

I am finishing up the last lines so it should be done this or next week, depending on what @queenquazar as the best beta reader one could ask for, will say about this draft.

it took me longer than expected. sorry for the wait.

[itsagrimm]

Research Special

I have been asked to share my notes and references to 'He Who Comes from under the Water'. So here is my ongoing list of myths, fables, tales, practices or customs i have referenced so far.

People from central & eastern Europe are explicitly invited to add, argue or disagree with stuff they are familiar with.

Disclaimer: While I enjoy many traditional stories & practices, this is not a trad life safe space. Regressive misanthropes, fascists, right wingers, racists, anti-feminists and science deniers be gone. Romanticism may be my personal escapism and access to some of my heritage, which I am willing to share with you. But this is not a white supremacists playground in fairy tale costume. You guys are always the evil in my stories. Stay away.

König is a Vodyanoy or водяно́й. It's a re-occurring character and entity in many eastern European and slavic stories. There is not one version of Vodyanoy. Depending on the region and story they are all slightly different with Western Slavs leaning to a more elegant (?) Vodník who might even pass as human, likes tobacco offerings and tea pots to keep souls in, while the eastern Slavs tend to have more stories of a wild king who fears nothing and "enslaves" aka drowns anyone who crosses his kingdom. What most of these stories share is that this very powerful entity, is playful and open to bargains or games. It's possible that many fairy tales and characters stem from old pagan gods and traditions which explain the amount of power and connection to the land. The name Vodyanoy is literally translatable as 'he who comes from under the water'.

The heron & the fox is a fable written by Aesop. I would also like to add that the fox is a re-occuring fable animal in may central & eastern European stories in which it is considered a clever animal. Also in at least Russian the fox often is considered female while the german stories tend to name the fox as male.

Curses and being cursed here in this context is a more central European witch hunt reference. The villager Ivar wants readers property and goes after her, claiming she is cursed and due to being a woman not allowed to own the land of her family. During Medieval times in central Europe many peasant women owned the land in the same way as men did, being bound to the same expectations of service and work. Not saying that peasant women in the central European Middle Ages had many personal liberties bc simply the concept of personal liberties and governance was a different one, but since they were expected to work the land in the same way as men did, it is odd to not allow the reader to work the land of her dead family. Claiming something as unprovable as being cursed, is at least in the historic context more a post medieval attempt to strategically disenfranchise the vulnerable female coded reader by playing up religious, mostly christian fears, to get her land. Witch hunts were not a massive phenomenon in Eastern Europe, but rather common Modern Times occurrences until the 18th century especially in german speaking regions where they noticeably affected disenfranchised groups like women*, the poor, the sick, jewish communities, migrants, ... This is in basically in any german history class book for school. But I can also recommend this or this.

The idea of marriages between human women and male animal/magical beings/gods/spirits/etc is very common theme appearing nearly everywhere on the globe. I concentrated on german tales about animal-human-marriages, especially tales from the Gebrüder Grimm Collection. The Gebrüder Grimm fairy tale collection is a collection of german tales from 1812. Unlike the Disney retellings of fairy tales this german collection is brütäl, meaning it never really got reworded much since the 18th century, mirroring what the brothers considered a fine and acceptable story to tell to kids. In the 18th century. As you can imagine that was very different to what we consider appropriate for kids now. Anyway, I did a closer reading on the german "Froschkönig", "Schneeweißchen & Rosenrot" and the "Eisenhans" tales. They include cursed swamp being, cursed bear and cursed frog. Especially in Froschkönig the princess is the vocal point of the story while being forced into a marriage with a frog. Also, the story has many sexual undertones and especially the early male psychologist carl jung had a blast writing about a young woman's sexuality, ignoring her lack of agency in the whole scenario (wtf carl.). Eisenhans is different for it is about a prince and is essentially the male, more action including version but it includes a dangerous but also somewhat helpful underwater being which drowns whoever comes to it. Finally "Schneeweißchen & Rosenrot" shows a bear as a protector for the then later brides. As you can guess I draw a lot of the psychological impacts especially from Froschkönig for the Reader perspective. Also, lot's of food references.

Female owlets cry ‘Kowitt!” which sounds like the german ‘komm mit’ / ‘come with me’. Therefore, it is said in German folklore that the owlets are birds of death wanting to take a soul with them or warning of the impending death of those who listen to it because it was heard so much around the dead and dying. Owlets and many other nightly birds of prey were hunted because of that in German speaking regions. The real reason for owlets crying around the dead is a different one: the lights of the wake for the dead drew the birds in at night.

Herbs might be something we consider magical now during an honestly odd revival of new age mysticism. But it likely wasn't magical per se in the same way for European central & eastern people in the undefined past. Of course there are stories and legend about magical herbs like the herb 'Moly' in the Odyssee. But the use of herbs just to flavour food can be found in the Edda the same way teas and foods are used to help with flavouring food, keeping healthy and curing sickness till this day without being magical. It's just practical to use what is at hand. Reader drinking a sage tea, which is a wild plant widely available basically everywhere is exactly that. If you want to try it, i recommend adding some honey. But please don't buy white sage just to make tea from it. That's wasteful considering the importance white sage has in other practices I am not familiar with when one can use Common Sage.

Because hair in whatever length or form is beautiful but requires work, many traditional hair styles for longer hair from the especially the eastern European region include ‘косы’ or braids/plaits. It's a very practical way of keeping your hair tidy and out of the way during a days work. Head coverings for female presenting people from the region also play an important role. The most known ones are head scarfs known as 'платки', they are beautiful scarfs with often flowery motives. Depending on the region of origin the patterns will be different. Платки used to be associated with being married and being older but not so much anymore as it can also be just worn as protection against the elements or as an accessory. Платки also play a role in various religious practices for both christian and muslims as well as cultural pride so I recommend doing serious research before just wearing this type of head covering just because you find it beautiful. I remember being called names for wearing this traditional dress so for someone just to take it and 'play' with it without learning more first, feels off to me. Another important head wear I plan on referencing is the 'кокошник' which is something like a crown or tiara worn by mostly married female presenting people. I remember seeing the кокошник drawn on basically all queens and princesses in my fairy tale books as a kid so you bet I will give reader one.

The swamp light's are another staple in many parts of the world where swamps exist. The German folklore know them as 'Irrlicht' or 'Sumpflicht' and consider them evil doers trying to lure wanderers into the dangerous swamps or just off the road. Slavic tales also associate the lights in the swamp with something bad. There is the entity of the 'боло́тник' who lives in the swamp and likes to lure people in by lighting up those fires, making animal noises and confusing wanderers by intoxicating them with gas from dangerous herbs. The боло́тник is not as common and I only read up on this creature as research for HWCFUTW since he does very similar things as the водяно́й and more stories are about him as the generally associated being ruling all types of waters.

At last:

Generally speaking I noticed a leaning in especially english speaking media to see everything slavic as culturally Russian, and everything German-speaking as from the whole of Germany. That is a dangerous simplification. If you want to learn and research more on your own about those regions and their traditions & stories i have to stress the importance of local culture and complex diversity in those regions.

Also, if you liked this I can do a follow up post about my references in my writing once I have introduced a bit more.

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

[itsagrimm]

🌹 tyty

Above you, as if leaning over the house like it was a child’s doll house, was a giant. With unblinking eyes, he stared at you - dark and unmoving. As if he was a being unaffected by time and you just a curiosity that would vanish in a heartbeat if he blinked. He had a mask over his head, a deer’s skull maybe for it had antlers. But there were sharp teeth in it, reminding you that König had mentioned more than one being out there on the hunt for your flesh.

Unable to move and hoping for the best, you just stared up.

“What happened with my brother, little Bride?”, the giant stranger asked after what felt like an eternity.

You blinked and the world was still there.

[itsagrimm]

aahhhhh the sleeping in the bathtub one is may fav

thank you so much. i love it

He who comes from under the water Memes

I tried

@itsagrimm it's my first time doing this. I hope it's good

[itsagrimm]

after 2 months I finally had an epiphany on how to fix a plot hole issue in 'He who comes from under the water'.

[itsagrimm]

Master of Winter

I am fighting my own perfectionism here by publishing it as drafts and excerpts bc I have been working on this for months and I am starting to get desperate. Also I need this to reference it in the 'He Who Comes from Under The Water' Series and even after the 7th rewrite it's not hitting like I want it to. So let's all collectively say fuck it and ask ourselves the most important question: What if Santa fucked?

John Price X OC

CN: mentions of sexual themes, mentions of pregnancy and failed pregnancy, found (?) family, wanting to have kids, John Price becoming a dad weird folklore edition

Masterlist

One

The Master of Winter, some call him Ded Moros, others call him John Price, wanders back home. After bringing the cold and the frost down south to the people, he returns back to his Ice Queen residing in the Castle up on the north pole. He missed her greatly - her piercing blue eyes, her unforgiving voice, her sharpness and beauty.

As he returns, she happily embraces him. But some changed between them and Price finally decides to ask her about her sorrows.

***

The snow was bright under the polar day, reflecting the sunlight. Ice was towering up high into the arctic sky. Somewhere far away it was summer – past the ice and great tundra steppe where the trees grew again and not the mighty ice castle as the only thing reaching up high.

Jonathan Price did not care about that. He was sitting before his castle, staring into the endless white. He had returned home a few weeks ago. His queen had welcomed him as always. Like countless times before he as the Master of Winter, the Ded Moros, had travelled south to bring the cold. And like all those countless times before when he had returned, he had expected his wife to be joyful and happy to see him.

But she was not.

Looking at him with sad eyes, burning with a cold passion he adored.

“Love, what is it?” He had said. “Are you not happy to see me, dear?”

“Husband.” She had cried falling against his chest. “I am. But my winter had been lonely, so I had travelled down to find you. Instead, I found humans, living together in their tiny houses huddled around the fire as it could keep the cold in their bones away. I found animals hibernating under the snow, pressed close to each other for warmth. I found words of hope for a future after winter and when the sun would rise again.”

Price knitted his eyebrows as he embraced his wife. “My Queen, did the presence of fire, warmth and summer disturb you that much? Did I bring not enough of the cold to keep our kingdom safe?”

She shook her head.

“No, my dear. I do not ask you for more cold to keep my ice body and this kingdom in pieces.”

She looked up, searching for something in his eyes before reaching up and kissing him.

“What I wish for-” Another kiss from her cold, addicting lips. “-is a child. I want a family. I want to be a mother and hold our child like the humans did in their huts. I want it to curl up against us in their sleep, feeling for us to be close, I want to show it the beauty of our world in the never-ending day.”

“We are a family.” Price whispered weakly. His queens’ words were making him as drunk as her lips.

“We are. But we could grow into a different one.”

***

Cultural References:

Ded Moroz can be understood as Soviet Santa Claus. However, he is based on an older, pagan entity. Since as always the source material for pre-christian traditions and believes from Eastern Europe and central Asia are sparse to nonexistent, we can only guess how exactly this entity was perceived. Some argue the Ded Moroz (literal translation father or grandfather Frost) is a kind of evil winter spirit. Others argue him more akin to a snow wizard.

In the Soviet Union religious traditions were frowned upon and oppressed, especially all non-christian believes and practices. The Jolka as a substitute Christmas celebration was introduced as an alternative to various winter festivals, most importantly Christmas. This Jolka festival included Ded Moroz, who brought gifts to the kids.

The snow queen comes from a fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. It has little to do with the movie Frozen. In the tale the snow queen kidnaps a boy and his friend Gerda travels up to the north pole castle to get her friend back from the Queen. There is a very cool Russian animated movie The Snow Queen (Russian: Снежная королева, Snezhnaya koroleva) from 1957 and it's fairly known classic. You can watch it on youtube with english subtitles.

@queenquazar

[itsagrimm]

Wanted to say that I love, love, love your vodyanoy König story all it’s world-building! It’s my favorite ongoing fic on CoD tumblr rn ;w;

I wanted to ask what König was ever like as a child, if vodyanoy even grow similarly to people just…taking more time? Do they just appear and learn as they go? I’m just curious at how “early” König may have differed from his current self. Either way, thank you so much and I look forward to the next installment! \owo/

thank you. that's quite an honour. 💕

in the stories i am familiar with there is no younger or even child Vodyanoy. They are all grown and often older men. I already de-aged Vodyanoy König bc I wasn't planning on working on age gap issues on top of all the other things in the series. Since time and ageing is undefined in the world of hwcfutw, I am going with the most soft magic approach possible: König was once a child. We don't know when and for how long. He was cute and i imagine him swimming races against the fishes. We also don't know how he came to be and if he has parents or caretakers. König is bound to the land and it's waters. Since the land and the waterways were always there, he too was always there.

Same goes for Leshy Ghost, Koschei Graves and Baba Yaga Farah.

[itsagrimm]

i miss 'he who comes from under the water' so much, i really loved it <3 will you ever update or have you abandoned it? i hope everything is going well in your life <3

thank you so much. i got frustrated writing it and took a break. however. i have been looking at the draft these last days, combing through my previously made mess.

[itsagrimm]

your he who comes from under the water fic is giving me vibes from ancient magnus bride. powerful eldritch being husbands and their headstrong wifey

oh, that wasn't an intentional parallel but it's a welcome one. thank you so much for your kind words. i love the ancient magus bride. should rewatch that this autumn. right after finishing he who comes from under the water. i'm still working on the new chapter and would like to finish it soon since i take so long with it.