#the frog king or iron heinrich

[laurasimonsdaughter]

It was peculiar how names stuck. The young King had been released from his enchantment, but people spoke of him as the Frog King still. And Heinrich, his most loyal and beloved attendant, they still called Iron Heinrich. Except that name they only used in hushed tones, where the King's young bride would not hear.

But it was faithful Heinrich who had gone to fetch their King home once he had found his bride, the Princess who had broken his curse. He had personally handed them both into the royal carriage and escorted them home. Home to the palace that had been such an empty, sorrowful place without its master and that was now filled with joy and impending celebration, as the royal wedding was prepared. And no one was as helpful or as thoughtful in all the preparations as Heinrich.

It was not many days before the King’s betrothed came to find him in his quarters. She was wearing the collier of golden baubles that the young King had given her as an engagement gift, an affectionate joke he delighted in very much, and Heinrich had never beheld a prettier woman in his life.

“You could have sent for me, Your Highness,” he protested. “If you had need of my services.”

But she shook her head and raised a hand, meeting his eyes with most uncharacteristic caution. “You have been very kind to me,” she said. “While you have so much reason to resent me. I know you are the only one the King has told about how badly I treated him.”

Heinrich bowed his head to hide a smile. “I assure you his version of the events dwelt only on your good qualities,” he said. “My master does not resent being flung against a wall for his impertinence. Far from it, if I have understood him correctly. He is convinced you would have thrown him whether he was a frog or a man, and he greatly admires you for it.”

The Princess’s eyes, so large and becoming, gazed at him without being much affected by the flattery. “But you would have treated him more kindly,” she said.

Heinrich could not answer that.

“It is true, is it not?” she said. “That you had the royal smith clasp three iron bands around your heart, to keep it from breaking while the dear King was a frog? I heard you tell him so as you drove us here, whenever they creaked so that it frightened him.”

“Only because they were breaking, Your Highness,” he said. “Because my heart was so glad that you had released him.”

“And yet you are not happy now,” the Princess said. “And neither is he.”

And Heinrich, who had made ready to protest with all the practice of a courtier, instantly fell silent.

“He is not happy when you stand silently by to attend him and will not come nearer,” she said gravely. “And almost every evening he comes wandering to my quarters to speak to me. And he calls his chambers lonely, as if there was some accustomed comfort missing there.”

“His happiness will be secured then,” poor loyal Heinrich said. “The moment that you marry.”

The Princess frowned, and it was a stubborn frown that betrayed a temperament that her royal upbringing had only ever managed to mask. “I do wish to secure his happiness,” she said. “And I shall love being his wife. But if I love him, and I do, I must not be so blind as to think I am the only one to bring him happiness.”

Heinrich looked at her in amazement and the Princess, to his astonishment, placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Dear Heinrich, his dear Heinrich. I do hope that in time you may be my dear Heinrich as well. But for now, it is late, and I have letters to write. I suggest you make sure that my betrothed does not need to disturb me this evening before bed. Or I shall scold you both for it.”

And Heinrich, for what else could he do, bowed his flushed head and said: “Yes, Your Highness.”

The Princess smiled again. “That will do for now. We shall talk some more once I am mistress of this court and of your master.”m

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

In the spirit of "Reblog Your Own Work," here's a story I wrote almost two years ago, that I'm really proud of. I originally posted it in 5 parts, so to shake things up a bit, here it is all in 1 part. It's a retelling of the Grimm Brothers fairy tale "The Frog King," this time with aroace and disability representation, and the squicky elements of child marriage taken out.

Under the Linden Tree

Once upon a time, there lived a king who was widowed, and remarried. His first wife had been a true princess of a wealthy kingdom, and the daughters they had together, Zephyra and Aurora, were as lovely as a summer breeze and the dawn. His living wife had only became queen through marriage to him. But she was exceedingly lovely, and gracious, and kind. And because she was the only daughter in a house full of sons, the king thought surely she would deliver him a son of her own. Instead, he got a third daughter, whom they named Galantha.

As she grew, Galantha became even more beautiful and gracious, until, as she approached womanhood, she began to outshine even her mother. Her elder sisters, once happy playmates, now teased her, and reminded her, whenever they had the chance, that her lineage would never be as great as theirs, and that she was last in line to be married, and most likely to a baron, if not a common paddler.

Galantha would sigh, and say she knew this. She would also turn away and hide her smile. She had little interest in being wooed. And being the mother of a future king just seemed like an extra weight upon her head that she would rather do without.

But Fate and Nature had little care for her secret desires. Every day, she could feel the eyes of the courtiers watching her. Their murmurs of praise for her beauty and grace seemed like the constant drone of crickets in her ears. On festival days and market days, minstrels could be heard singing songs about how the sun, itself, was jealous of her beauty.

Whenever she could, Galantha escaped to her favorite place in the royal forest, where the Tree of Oaths stood: a linden tree with a trunk wider than the span of her arms, with leaves broader than her palm, and a well between the fork of its roots, formed from a thousand years of rain and dew dripping from the leaves above. According to the law, it was forbidden to tell a lie within its shade; according to legend, it was impossible. Its crown had spread wide enough to preside over murderers' trials, and lovers' weddings, since this kingdom had been the size of a village. And these were recorded with carvings in its bark, some so old that even the alphabets they were written in had been forgotten.

She would spend whole days here, tossing and juggling her golden ball (her favorite plaything), entranced by how it glinted in the dim light.

But the king started grumbling that she was neglecting her royal duties, that she was growing too old to spend her days amusing herself with a mere child's plaything.

Her mother would lay her fingertips on his arm, smile in that way she had, and, almost imperceptibly, shake her head.

Then, the king would sigh, and say that he would permit her private walks, for now. But soon, she'd have to grow up, and perform her duties for the court.

It was after one such scolding, when Galantha distracted by worries, that the ball slipped from her fingers. It sank into the well before her cry of dismay had escaped her lips.

She sat mourning her loss, and wondering if her father would ever let her go out into the forest alone again, when the biggest frog she'd ever seen popped its head out of the water.

"What would you grant me," the frog asked, in a perfectly clear human voice, "if I returned your golden ball?"

Galantha stammered a few syllables before she regained her composure. "Forgive me," she said, practicing her diplomacy as her father never imagined, "but you must understand how it would me unwise of me to negotiate with a complete stranger."

The frog blinked in the slow, deliberate, way that frogs had, and the princess took that as acknowledgment.

"Three questions, then," she said, "I think is fair."

The frog blinked again.

"First question: Are you a frog enchanted with the gift of human speech," she asked, "or are you a man trapped in the form of a frog?"

The frog responded with a long, rolling, croak. And then, as if startled by the sound of his own voice, disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

The princess sighed. Maybe it was true that the frog could not lie to her, here, but neither the legends nor the law said anything about answering her in her own language. When the surface of the water stilled, and the frog had not yet returned, she thought the interview over, and started for home.

She had not gone three steps, however, when she heard a small croak from behind her, sounding, for all the world, like an embarrassed cough.

So—a man, she thought.

She smoothed the smile off her expression and returned to the well's edge.

"Second question: is this form one of your own choosing?"

"No."

"Final question: Was this form imposed upon you as punishment for a crime, or the breaking of an oath?"

The frog (or rather, man) was silent. She was nearly ready to take that as a refusal to answer, and to walk away, without his help.

But then, the frog took a deep breath, and let out an uncertain "No." Then sighed wearily, in a way that was unmistakably human.

She smiled. "All right, then," she said, "I accept your offer. I will grant you anything you wish that's mine to give, short of my body, or my will."

"Then my wish is to pass between the walls where you have tread," he said.

She was taken aback. "That's all?"

"That is all I ask from you, Your Highness," the frog replied.

She nodded. "That price is certainly a fair one," she answered. "And I'll grant it freely, once you return with my treasure."

The frog disappeared below the water.

The surface grew still.

There was no sign that any living thing moved beneath. Her gold ball was heavy, she thought, and even very large frogs must have limited strength. So, with a sigh, she started the long walk home.

But soon, there was a "plip, plop, plip" on the path behind her. She turned around. The frog hopped after her, carrying her treasure in his mouth.

She gasped, and managed to not to laugh.

The frog dropped the ball at her feet. "You promised."

Galantha admitted that she had, and thanked him. As she lowered herself to pick him up, she was nearly overcome by a horrid feeling, as if her body, itself, were recoiling in disgust.

It took all her strength to resist hurling the frog to the ground. Still, Galantha strode home with the frog under her arm and the golden ball in her hand. She passed through the gate of her palace courtyard with her chin held high, barely acknowledging the guards.

And at that moment, the strange sensation of disgust faded so much, she hardly noticed it. She made her way to the throne room with a light and playful step.

Her sisters squealed in harmony at the sight of the frog, and hid behind their thrones. Her mother gasped, and looked a bit ill (and for that, Galantha was sorry). Her father was the angriest, rising from his throne, red in the face, and signaling for his guards. He had just opened his mouth to give his orders, when the frog addressed him in the most courteous and proper royal etiquette.

Galantha then broke her family's astonished silence by recalling, in the most flowery language she could imagine, how this wondrous frog had swum to the bottom of that unfathomed well, and retrieved her precious family heirloom, the golden ball.

"All he asked, in return," she concluded, "was to pass between the walls where I have tread. It seemed a small price to pay."

Upon hearing that, the king agreed. He insisted on leading a tour of the palace himself, with his wife and daughters behind in a small parade. He repeated the story the princess had told to each courtier they met, saying that, as a courteous and generous monarch, it was his duty to ensure that the just payment was given to even the lowliest of his subjects, even those as lowly as an ugly frog.

The frog-man under her arm, if he were able to show expression, was very good at keeping his opinion to himself. For her own part, Galantha struggled to hide her embarrassment.

The tour ended in the kitchen, and the king was making a show of his magnanimity toward the servants, sniffing all the dishes as they roasted and bubbled away.

As if struck by a sudden thought, he turned to the frog tucked under the princess's arm, and said, with a grand sweep of his arm: "It would be a great honor to me, Sir Frog, if you would stay, and be my daughter's special guest at dinner, tonight."

Her two elder sisters, bringing up the rear of their little parade, giggled behind their hands.

The frog shifted his weight under her arm and opened his mouth as if to speak. But in the end, said nothing.

Galantha was ready to object on his behalf, and her own. But her father looked her in the eye with a frown, daring her to disobey his wishes a second time that day.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Yes. Of course it would be my honor. Please, be my guest."

No sooner were those words out of her mouth than the strange, horrid, feeling strengthened once more, spreading from the frog like ink from a tipped bottle. She fought to keep from hurling him to the floor that very instant.

At dinner, an extra golden chair was put to Galantha's right, and on it was placed a fine silk cushion. The princess set the frog on the cushion as graciously as she could, and then she took a portion of each food on her plate, put it in a fine china saucer, and set the saucer on the cushion beside her guest.

But the frog objected: "That well was very deep and cold," he said, "and that golden ball was so heavy. If it weren't for me, your treasure would be lost forever. I should sit beside you, and eat from your own plate."

The princess was about to object that this was more than she had promised him.

But before she could say anything, her father the king replied: "Quite right. Quite right. A princess must always be a generous hostess."

So Galantha lifted the frog from the chair to the table, while Zephyra and Aurora squirmed and made faces.

In between bites, the frog and the king discussed political matters, and the state of diplomacy between the various neighboring kingdoms.

Galantha's mind raced, trying to figure out who this might be. She tried to change the subject, but her father was thoroughly charmed. The queen, when she caught her daughter's eye, smiled and shook her head in the same disapproving manner that she had with the king, and Galantha found that, she, too, could not resist her mother's wishes.

As the evening's chatter melted into yawns, the king said that since it was now dark, and it was a long way to the forest, their guest should spend the night.

Galantha agreed. and picked the frog up into the crook of her arm, preparing to carry her guest to the fountain the center of the royal courtyard, where he would be comfortable in the cool and damp.

But instead, the king said: "Of course, as my daughter's honored guest, you are welcome to sleep in her chambers."

So she was obligated to carry the frog up to her rooms. With every step, the strange feeling in her body intensified. Still, she walked to her rooms with as much courtesy as she could muster, filled the basin on the washstand with fresh water for the frog, and set him down.

"Please look away," she said, "as I change for bed."

The frog dipped his head, and quietly crawled behind the mirror.

Just as she about to slip under her covers, the frog came out from behind the mirror, and called out to her. "Is this any way to treat an honored guest?" he demanded. "To give your guest a cold, hard place to sleep, and keep the feather bed for yourself? I should like to lie in your bed, and be as warm as you are."

And with that, the princess's last bit of patience finally snapped. "If you want my bed, Sir Frog," she said, "you shall have it!" She picked him up in both hands, and, giving in to every shiver of revulsion, hurled him against the wall.

What happened next was such a shock, she spun on her heel as though pulling her hand from a fire: a full-grown man in her bed, alive, perfect as an artist's ideal, and naked as a frog.

"You're a prince?"

"I was a king, once."

She hugged herself, willing her heart to slow. "And the spell is broken now?"

He did not answer 'Yes.'

"I must," he said at last, "receive recompense for service rendered to a human, pass between walls where a human has trod, share a meal off a human's dish, and--" he took a breath, "share a human's bed from midnight 'til first cock's crow."

As if to punctuate his point, the hall clock chimed the eleventh hour's last quarter.

"You were afraid I'd say no, I suppose," she said, "if you'd told me this, when first I asked."

"I asked for everything I wanted from you."

"And I must only 'share' the bed?"

"Only that."

"Even so, you understand: Because of my station, this will count as a betrothal between us?"

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. "Yes," he said, finally.

"And if I gave you the bed outright, and slept on the floor?"

She heard a catch in his breath that sent a shiver down her spine. "Please," he said.

"All right, then. Keep your face to the wall and your hands to yourself, or we will find out what happens."

When she was certain that he was faced toward the wall, under the covers, she lay down over them. She could feel him at her back, that strange, horrid feeling still there, though fainter, now, like the heat from a single candle. At some point, she must have fallen asleep, because she had the distinct sensation of waking up before the sun.

When, at last, she was released by the sound of the cock's crow, she rose quietly, careful not to wake the man sleeping behind her, and washed her face and hands.

The cock crowed a second time.

There was a silent flash of light in the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she saw a full set of clothes laid out across the dowry chest at the foot of her bed. The coat was of red velvet, with gold buttons, and there was a broad purple sash, embroidered with heraldric designs she did not recognize.

The princess stepped into the foyer of her bedchamber to dress in private.

At least it looked like a king's outfit, she thought, even though the stranger in her bed seemed far too young. But some, she reminded herself, inherit their throne before they're old enough to pull up their own stockings.

The cock crowed a third time.

She heard him yawn, the bed creak as he rose, and the unfamiliar rhythm of his bare feet on the floor.

She brushed and braided her hair as she listened to the rustling of cloth as he dressed himself.

When she heard that his boots were on, she took a deep breath, counted slowly to five, and stepped back into the main apartment of her chambers.

She'd prepared herself, but seeing him was still a shock. She looked away almost as quickly as she had the night before, and dropped into a curtsy. "Good morning, Your Majesty," she said, feeling the blush spread across her cheeks. "Please forgive me, for--"

His chuckle cut her off, and she glanced up. A smile spread from the corner of his eye to his lips.

"Forgive thee?" The smile faded, but his expression remained soft. "I should thank thee, instead." He looked down at his hands and flexed his fingers. "Thou saved my life."

"I-- what?"

"Though it feels odd, having so much bone, again," he said, instead of answering her directly, running one hand down his side, over his ribs. "Did I hear correctly, last night," he asked, changing the subject, "that thy name is 'Galantha?'"

"Indeed, Your Majesty," she said.

His brows knitted for a split second. "'Milk Flower?' 'Snowdrop?' Princess Snowdrop?" He seemed on the verge of laughing, but managed to swallow it down.

"That would have been Sire's choice," she answered, "but my mother overruled him, Your Majesty."

He cocked his head to one side. "Please. Don't let me have the advantage of thee. I am named 'Cinnabar'."

She studied his face. There was nothing about him that suggested the fiery hues of that dangerous stone. His complexion was as pale as someone who had spent years in the shadows. His eyes were the dark brown of late summer honey. And his hair was so black, like a raven's feathers, that it glinted blue.

"Cinnabar?" she repeated.

He chuckled, and seemed to be about to say something more, when there was a light, familiar, rap on her chamber door.

"Come in, Margarete," she said, without thinking.

Her lady-in-waiting opened the door and poked her head around. "Good morning, Your Highness--" Her eyebrows rose barely a hair, and she (almost invisibly) mouthed: "frog?"

The princess bit her lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity. "Good morning, Margarete. Is breakfast ready?"

"Yes, Your Highness. His Majesty waits on you." She curtsied quickly and backed out the door.

The young king tugged at his sash, smoothing wrinkles that weren't there. "Well," he said, "they're expecting us, though probably not like this." He offered her his arm.

After a moment's hesitation, she took it.

She could sense the servants watching them, in the well-practiced way of not seeming to watch them at all. Halfway to the stairs, Lady Caroline, who had once been her nursery maid, caught Galantha's eye as she passed in the hallway, and smiled softly.

He ended up leaning more on her, on the way down the stairs, than she on him, testing his weight with each step, but managed to hide his uncertainty as they entered the banquet hall.

Her father was standing at the head of the table, red-faced, with clenched fists. He glared at the richly dressed stranger, then at her.

"So, it's true!?" he said, "I wasn't imagining the whispering of servants!"

"Your Majesty," the queen said, laying her fingers on his arm, her voice light, and clear, and cold, as a silver bell, "remember your royal duty to invited guests."

"Invited? Invite-- guests?!"

Cinnabar bowed. "Good morning, Your Majesty," he said. "I hope you had a restful sleep."

Her father sputtered. "I know that voice!"

"I am honored you remember it. And may I say what a pleasure it was to be a guest on your table, last night."

"On? 'On my table'? That thing? Thou!?"

"Yes. That was I."

The king huffed, and, with a sweep of his arm, gestured at the sash that the young king wore. "This bunting and glitter-- are they true emblems of royal office, or are they some player's costume?"

"This sash, along with my scepter, and crown," Cinnabar said, his voice quiet but tense, "is, indeed, an emblem of royal duty and privilege, bestowed upon me according to the laws of my homeland."

The king turned his gaze on Galantha. "And am I to take it, then, that there must now be a wedding?"

She bowed her head. "Yes, Sire."

It wasn't until then that he seemed to notice all his guests waiting for him. He nodded and sat, and signaled for others to join him, adding: "I suppose we'll need another chair."

The young king smiled and nodded at the servant who brought it, as if he had been welcomed to the table with the same generosity as the night before.

Zephyra leaned over and murmured in her ear: "I wish thee the best, truly," she said, with a catch in her voice. "We had some happy times, didn't we?"

Galantha nodded and smiled as best she could through the flurry of quiet congratulations.

She was just beginning to relax when a servant set a large, sweetened, bread between herself and her betrothed, with the knife placed on his side of the platter. It was gilded with a glaze of egg wash and saffron, decorated with a pattern of sliced, toasted almonds, and perfectly sculpted into the shape of a frog, bulbous eyes and all.

He coughed and looked around at the faces of those seated near him.

"Oh, dear!" Aurora said, giggling, and then quickly added: "It's nothing personal, Your Majesty. This is a custom in our country, for good luck, and a fruitful marriage. Even the common people do this, though not so richly."

Galantha wanted to bury her face in her hands. Instead, she nodded. "I didn't think there was time to make one for us."

He laughed. "Oh. All's well, then," he said. He picked up the knife and studied the frog a moment, before slicing it down the middle, from nose to rump, revealing the stuffing of dried fruit, nuts, and candied citron.

Turning the platter so that both halves were equally within her reach, he waited for Galantha to make her choice.

She tried not to think how things might have gone differently, last night, as she put her half on the plate before her.

The young king smiled. He popped the eye from his half of the frog into his mouth, and chuckled.

The elder king was silent and frowning throughout the meal, which was consumed and cleared away with all the haste of a picnic interrupted by rolls of thunder.

Galantha was only granted enough time to change into the gown that had been set aside for her marriage ceremony. And her only wedding gift was a wallet of sewing and spinning tools, along with her mother's blessing bound up in it.

The phrase "Husband and wife" was barely out of the priest's mouth when they heard the rattle and clatter of a carriage outside.

Her new husband nearly sprinted through the chapel door as the carriage slowed to a stop.

It was one of the finest Galantha had ever seen, with gilded eagles on the finials of the top, and scroll work of inlaid gems in twisting, vine-like patterns along the side. The six horses pulling the carriage had silver bells in their bridles, though they, themselves, were the sturdy, piebald, sort that Galantha had seen pulling farmers' plows, rather than the parade horses in whom elegant coat color was prized.

And it was also odd, she thought, that with a carriage so richly appointed, that there was only the coachman as servant-- that there were no footmen attending, to help keep the carriage steady on the highway, to watch out for ruts, or remove obstacles in the road ahead. And she also noted that the gold braiding on the coachman's livery was just a bit frayed, and there were spots in the sleeves of his coat that had been expertly darned, with evident care. But what sort of kingdom was she marrying into, if so much wealth was put into things, but not people?

The coachman alighted, and was in the act of dropping to one knee to honor his master when the young king interrupted him, and pulled him up into an embrace.

"Heinrich? Heinrich!" he exclaimed. "My good man-- it- it's been too long."

Heinrich pulled away-- a little too quickly, Galantha thought. But he was still smiling, and there were tears on his ruddy, weathered, cheeks, dampening the neat white beard on his chin.

He sniffled, still smiling, and squaring his shoulders, turned and bowed to her. "Your Majesty," he said. And he offered his hand to help her up into the carriage.

"Please, Sir," she said, "before we go, there's someone--some place--I need to say 'goodbye' to."

The coachman's mouth tightened into a thin line, and his brow furrowed.

Galantha feared he would refuse.

But her husband spoke up. "I know the place," he said. "It's not far. I'll go with her, and make sure she won't get lost."

The coachman hesitated for just a moment, but then, with a quick bow of his head, said: "Very well, Your Majesty. As you wish."

And with that, her new husband laced his fingers firmly with hers, and strode off toward the path leading to the linden tree. Galantha had to walk in double step to keep up.

As soon as they turned a corner, and his golden carriage was no longer in sight, however, he let go of her hand. He leaned close. "This way, he won't leave without thee," he said.

"Would he do that?" Galantha asked. For a fleeting moment, she imagined running away, but just as quickly dismissed the idea.

"Heinrich's… Something's…" He sighed. "I'm sure he's just eager to get me home."

The path narrowed. He stepped back to walk a few strides behind her, giving her some privacy, but also driving her forward, not giving her a chance to tarry.

He stopped at the edge of the linden tree's canopy, while she walked up to its trunk alone, patting it as though it were a dear friend's shoulder. Then, on an impulse, she took a penknife from her pocket, and carved a 'G' and 'C', back-to-back, into the its bark, along with the date, to join all the ancient inscriptions recorded there.

Then, she cut one of the slender, leafy, branches to take with her. She just could not bear to leave this old friend behind entirely. She dipped her kerchief into the well, and wrapped the wet cloth around the cut end of the branch. Then she hurried back to meet her new husband.

He fairly pulled he along the whole way back, only slowing down as the path widened, to allow her to come up beside him, before quickening his stride again.

No sooner were they back in the carriage than the coachman cracked his whip, and they sped off at an almost unnatural speed, the horses in full gallop before they even had taken three strides at a trot. The landscape outside the windows was nothing but a blur.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "Must thou drive with such haste?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," his servant called back. "But if we do not pass through the Capital's gate by sunset, all is lost."

Galantha looked down at the linden branch and bit her lip. How much had she risked, she wondered, for a mere sentimental token that wouldn't even last the week?

"We did not tarry long," her husband said, above the noises of the carriage. "All's well. All will be well." He put his fingers lightly on her arm to draw her attention, and managed a weak smile. "Heinrich is one of the most sensible men I've known. If he really thought our errand would waste too much time, he wouldn't have let us go."

Still, he seemed as full of worry as she.

"The spell?"

"It's broken. But not all trouble is magic."

Nothing more was said between them. After a while, Galantha realized he'd fallen asleep.

Suddenly weary, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Memories slipped into nightmare. She was both juggling her golden ball, and trapped inside it: up and down, and back and forth, until she was falling without end, into an icy darkness.

Galantha woke with a start, and for a moment, she feared they'd missed the sunset, before realizing they were driving through a forest, trees on either side blocking out the sun.

He was awake, too, staring out the window.

"May I ask you something, Your Majesty?"

"Please, don't let rank stand between us; call me 'Cinnabar'. Interview, or conversation?" he asked.

"Both, I think."

He gestured toward the linden branch and opened his hand. When she passed it to him, he nodded for her to continue.

"Who cursed you?" she asked.

He sighed. "I don't know if anyone did. Thou asked if it were a punishment for a crime, or broken oath. Until I heard 'no' in my own voice, I'd long wondered the same thing." He seemed about to say more, but just grimaced, as if the thought smelled of something noxious.

"How long?" she asked, after a moment.

"I see no change in my own face. But Heinrich's--. We were—he was my assigned playmate, as a boy."

Galantha pushed down the thought that this made him nearly as old as her father, along with wondering if that mattered. "If no one told you," she asked, instead, "how did you know what would break the spell?"

He shrugged, winced, and rolled his shoulders. "The same way I know to scratch an itch, perhaps. I never thought it could be broken, until thou came to the well. I truly thought passing between the walls where you had walked would be enough."

"But then it wasn't."

"Then it wasn't, nor was the meal."

"And if Father hadn't invited you to dinner?"

"Well, there were so many others I could have asked, once I was inside."

"Whom?"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Enough!" Annoyance rang through his voice. "We're puzzling over troubles that never came to pass."

"I'm sorry, Your M--"

"Eh?"

"Cinnabar. Forgive me."

"For this? Easily."

Galantha turned and watched the landscape roll past. The sun was high, now, and there were almost no shadows on the ground. The forest was already thinning, unfamiliar mountains visible through the trees. They'd left her homeland while she was sleeping.

Perhaps it was better this way, she thought.

"May I ask thee something?" he asked.

"Certainly, Y-yes." She waited for him to hand back the linden branch before the questions began. But he seemed to forget that it was even in his hand.

"Didst thou mean to kill me, last night?"

"Yes."

"Ha-ha! That was quick."

"Well," Galantha counted off on her fingers. "You wouldn't-- couldn't," she corrected herself, "even tell me if you were man or beast. Father was boasting about things Mother, my sisters, and I aren't allowed to whisper, and your demands were exceeding what I'd promised. For all I knew, you were a wizard, or an assassin in league with one."

"Hm," he acknowledged, nodding.

"And--" she stopped herself.

"'And'? What?"

"It's of no matter."

"It seems to be of a little matter, at least." He swallowed hard. "Dost thou fear me?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Y-Cinnabar," she said. "But touching you-- being near you-- was horrid. It lent strength to my arm. Like, like…"

"A tunic woven from wool and stinging nettles? Only, so tight, that it's under thy skin?"

"Yes!" A chuckle escaped her. "Very!"

"The magic," he said. "I suppose, as the strands loosened their hold on me, they entangled thee."

He was so quiet, Galantha thought he'd fallen back asleep. Then he spoke: "Still, thou tookst pity on me."

She glanced at him before looking back out the window. The forest was behind them completely, now. The midday light made her squint. "You said 'Please.'"

He chuckled. "The magic word."

"You didn't have to. It was in your power, then, to, well--" she cut herself off.

He started to speak, then stopped himself, once, then again, before asking: "Wouldst thou have asked my forgiveness, if I'd been dressed as a common shepherd?"

"Maybe," she said. "But not so quick."

"What?! Wh-?"

"You were fluent in courtly idiom," she explained. "You were at ease dining with a king. That cannot be learned through tutoring. A shepherd's garb would have seemed a bigger deceit than a frog's skin."

He threw back his head and laughed. "If our laws did not forbid it," he said,"I'd appoint thee High Judge."

Galantha almost let herself laugh along with him, when she felt the carriage slow. She noticed hedgerows along road, and other signs that they were entering an inhabited place.

"Heinrich?" her husband called, sitting straighter, and scanning the view, "are we reaching the Capital? I don't recognize--".

"We are only half-way, Your Majesty," the coachman called back. "But our own royal horses have boarded at the inn's stables, so they will be refreshed for the homeward journey."

Soon, they were driving through the city proper. People in the streets stopped what they were doing to stare at the spectacle, as Heinrich navigated through the ever-narrowing streets to the ally at the inn-yard.

Heinrich, taking on the role of footman, alighted from his seat, and hurried into the inn.

A moment or two later, he emerged, leading someone Galantha thought must be the innkeeper.

It was only when Heinrich had come back to the carriage door that her husband looked down at the linden branch in his hand, seemingly aware of it for the first time since Galantha had handed it too him.

"It would be terrible if this were trod upon, or if someone mistook it for kindling," he said. "Would it be well with the if I gave it to Heinrich to look after?"

She managed a smile: "If you think it best, Y-Cinnabar," she said. She turned her face partly away from him, and lowered her veil, as her mother had first taught her, years ago, when she first realized how extraordinarily beautiful her daughter was becoming.

After Heinrich helped them down from the carriage, the young king handed the branch to his coachman, and murmured something in his servant's ear.

Heinrich frowned and shook his head, but he still accepted the linden branch with care. slipping it into the buttonhole on his lapel, to free up his hands, before turning his attention to the horses.

She could see the whites of the poor beasts' eyes, and their coats were twitching as though they were being swarmed by biting flies from head to foot, or as if they were draped in blankets of wool and stinging nettles. It must have been magic, after all, that allowed them to pull the carriage so swiftly, and so safely, over wilderness roads that were little more than ruts in the ground.

She turn to follow her husband and the innkeeper, who led them to a private corner, behind a curtain, where his wife served them a meal of soup and bread, with a smile and a few words of congratulations, before courtseying, and leaving to attend her other patrons.

They ate their meal in silence, not quite comfortably. With each bite, she was aware of the time passing. Should it really be taking this long to hitch up a fresh team of horses to the carriage? Or was it only anxiety that made the time seem to pass so slowly?

Galantha tried to think of pleasantries for conversation, but it was like fumbling for objects in the dark. Several times, she thought he would speak, but in the end, he said nothing, either.

And though he smiled at her whenever their eyes chanced to meet, there was a tension behind his features. Was it regret, or anger, or simple weariness? She couldn't guess, nor keep from wondering.

When Heinrich came, at last, to say that it was time to go, the linden branch was no longer in his buttonhole. And the slightest of smiles passed between master and servant.

Their silence continued in the carriage as they sped over the ground. When they had left her home, early that morning, the shadows were long and blue on the ground, stretching far out behind them. Now the shadows were long and blue again, and stretching out in front of them.

The land was hillier, now, and they rolled up and down like a ship at sea. They were driving ever closer to the mountains that she'd glimpsed through the forest trees. Towns, and farmland, and patches of wilderness sped past her window as if they were fence posts along the road.

Despite it all, it seemed to Galantha that they were standing still. The sun was so low in the sky, now, that whenever the carriage rolled down the slope of a hill, they were cast into shadow. She gripped the edge of the seat, and willed the carriage ever faster.

Her husband patted the back of her hand. "All's well," he said, barely audible above the screeching and rattling of the carriage, "all will be well." He pointed to the view ahead. "Almost home," he assured her.

And there, she noticed, growing ever clearer with each moment, were the walls of a city atop the mountain they were climbing, with flags flying from the watchtowers.

The road was growing steeper, now, and more winding, back and forth. Sometimes, the Capital City was in front of them; sometimes, out her side window, as the road they were traveling snaked its way up the side of the mountain. Miraculously, the sun seemed to slow in its descent toward the horizon, as if it knew that it had to wait for them.

And then, at last, the road leveled out, and the walls of the Capital City was directly before them-- so high that Galantha couldn't see the flags flying from the towers.

Heinrich finally slowed the horses' gallop to a canter, and then to a trot, as the great iron gate in the City's walls rose to admit them.

Trumpets blared a fanfare, welcoming them home, as the last sliver of the sun finally disappeared below the horizon.

And then, all of a sudden, came three, loud, metallic, bangs, louder than the blaring of the trumpets, louder than any of the complaints that the carriage joints and springs had made during their entire journey: a noise like giant watch springs breaking, or three swords being broken over stones, that left her ears ringing.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "is the carriage-- are we--?"

"The carriage is fine, Your Majesty," he said. "Those were-- those were three iron bands I'd put around my heart."

"Heinrich, why?! Wert thou injured?"

"To keep it from breaking in two for grief, Your Majesty," he answered, "when you were lost to us."

Her husband slumped back in his seat, his shoulders sagging. "Oh, Heinrich." There was a catch in his voice, and Galantha noticed there were tears in his eyes.

Soon though, he sat upright, alert and tense, and, with a touch, drew her attention out the window.

The street was brighter than twilight, lit with torches mounted to balcony railings. A multitude of banners, of several different heraldric designs, were draped from nearly all the windows. Crowds had gathered, as if everyone in the city had left their suppers and come out of doors. Many were carrying weapons. Some had bows, a few of those more richly dressed had muskets on their shoulders, and a few looked to be carrying swords they didn't really know how to use, taken down from the attic, perhaps, or from the wall, where they had been hung in honor of an ancestor. But there was no chatter: no calling back and forth between friends, no traders calling out their wares, no children.

"Heinrich," he called, "is it a tournament, or--?"

"These are no games, Your Majesty," his servant answered, his voice grim.

The young king scanned the scene, his eyes flicking from person to person, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He took her hand. A look of determination spread across his face, and he squared his shoulders.

As they wound through the streets, they continued to see people of all classes and trades, from beggars, to cobblers, carpenters to councilmen, all lined up and ready to fight each other, with whatever weapons or tools of their trade they had to hand. As the carriage passed by, the crowds shifted around them. Some slipped into alleys, or back behind the doors of their houses. But others walked up alongside the carriage, and behind, until they lead a massive parade all the way to the gate in the wall of the young king's palace garden.

Heinrich stopped the carriage, alighted from his seat, and came down to open the carriage door. "Your country rejoices in your return, Your Majesties," he said.

Her husband took her hand as he helped her down from the carriage. "Welcome home, my wife, my queen, Your Majesty," he said.

These words acted on the crowd like pebbles dropped dropped into water, and the people moved back, to give her room, though Galantha could sense their eyes on her, as they turned to see this stranger their king was bringing home. She was glad they could not see her blushing beneath her veil.

King Cinnabar bowed and smiled to those who bowed and curtsied to him, as he led her through the courtyard garden toward the palace. But he stepped over those who prostrated themselves, as if they were mere impediments in the road.

As her husband walked with her up the steps to the palace's doors, Heinrich followed a step behind his left shoulder, while others in the crowd tended to the horses and carriage.

It wasn't quite as still, inside the palace, as those in fairy tales she'd learned, where everything is frozen in time. She could hear distant footsteps, and distant voices. But compared to her own home, the air felt chill, and stagnant, as if there hadn't been enough people here, moving about, and carrying on with life.

Her husband put his hand on her shoulder. "Galantha, I have a wedding present for you."

She put out her hands, and felt the weight of it, first.

It was a flowerpot of white stoneware, with a decoration painted in a terracotta slip around the edge, of roses and grapevines. And planted there was her linden branch.

"I wanted to pick it out myself," he said, his voice sounding like it was far away-- like it was on the other side of a window, "but Heinrich thought it unwise for me to go through the market dressed like this. So he sent one of the stable boys instead."

Everything felt far away. The stone floor under her feet felt as unsteady as a stack of feather beds. She was so tired.

He guided her to a bench along one of the walls and sat down beside her. "Galantha? Your Majesty?"

She wanted to tell him she heard him. She wanted to say 'Thank you.' But the words disappeared in her throat.

"Your Highness?" he persisted, "Princess?" He brushed aside her veil and whispered in her ear. "Snowdrop?"

She meant to laugh at that, but it came out as a sob, first one, then another, and another, as unbidden, uncontrolled, and absurd, as a case of the hiccoughs. "I tho- I thought you'd- you'd thro--"

"Thrown it away?"

She gulped and nodded, holding her breath, to be sure she heard him.

"Why would I ever? I would never!" he said, as though it were one long word. "This is thy connection to home (mine, too, for a while). And it's a far stronger reminder of our promises than any ring-maker's trinket, or ink spilled on parchment. Hm? When it's our anniversary, we'll plant--"

Something invisible, as fine as spider silk, and sharp as a knife, snapped from around her own heart, then. And she wept. She couldn't stop. It felt like she would never stop.

But at last, the flood eased, and her breath came without catching in her chest. However long it had been, the light had shifted; it was truly night, now. Cinnabar was still there, his arm around her shoulder.

He was humming something in her ear. It sounded like it might be a children's rhyme, or a lullaby. It wasn't any she had heard before, though she could tell it was out of tune.

"Thou'rt a terrible singer," she told him, smiling.

He laughed, touching his forehead to her temple. "Always have been," he said, "every day of my life." He stood. "Come," he said. "Thou gavest me a tour of thy home. Shall I return the favor?"

She took his hand. "Yes," she said. "Thank thee, Cinnabar."

As they passed by a window, Galantha could see that her cheeks were stained with dust from the roads, her eyes were red from crying, and her braids were all askew. She was still a beautiful woman, perhaps, but no longer one that would make the sun jealous.

She sighed, and smiled.

[glasswaters]

my love has gone into the well, and the water is lower now than it has ever been. i cannot touch him, anymore. in the dark and the damp, he is the same colour as the moss. when he calls, it is a choir.

something in my chest groans. something aches.

he cannot climb back up to me. his hands are not made for rough things, and his eyes have forgotten the brightness of the sun. if i cupped him in my palms, i would wick the moisture from his skin.

as a caught fish trying to push air through gills, as a rat trying to breathe water, i would surely kill him.

those fine bones and that wet skin would crack. this mouth would open wide. i couldn't put him back into the water until that small heart has stuttered. until that voice has given out.

it would be too late, then.

go, says my love from where the well holds him tight. you are relieved of your duty. you are relieved of your lord. go, and leave me to the water.

i go. something blooms under my skin. when i press my palms against my breast, i lose my breath. i go.

i wail.

there is a bruise above my heart, and it is darkening. its edges are yellow, and its center is a deep, hard purple. every breath digs into the rough pit where my love sits, watching the water sink into the earth.

the blacksmith cannot keep my heart from breaking. she cannot reach into the hollow of me and fuse the muscle as if it were metal, red-hot and screaming.

instead, she lays three iron bands about my chest, tightest where the bruise is darkest. if i hook a finger underneath them, my breath won't take. there are no locks. there are no keys.

my heart beats on, somehow.

[ibrithir-was-here]

I'm still hoping against hope that Gerard and Elody might be able to reconcile just because Gerard loves her so much--- but realizing that if they don't I can totally pull in Iron Heinrich from the og story and give Gerard a boyfriend as loving and loyal as he is cuz darn it he deserves it (and I always thought the Prince should have ended up with Heinrich in the actual story anyway. The man wore iron bands to keep his heart from breaking when the prince got cursed, darn it!

Give me Childhood Friends to Lovers Heinrich who never gave up that his best friend Gerard (who he had a little crush on) was still alive out there somewhere and is so relieved to find he is even if he's stuck as a giant frog now and doesn't have a name anymore. Heinrich still loves him regardless.

#givegerardaboyfriend xD

[adarkrainbow]

Some scholarly notes about the Grimm fairytales (2)

A follow-up of this post.

The Frog King or Iron Henry (Der Froschkönig oder der eiserne Heinrich)

This story belongs to the AaTh 440, "The frog-king".

The story first appears in the 1810's manuscript, written by Wilhelm - it was probably told by Henriette Dorothea "Dortchen", Wilhelm's future wife. A second version, called "The frog prince", had been told to them by their friend Marie Hassenpflug and was published in the 1815 edition as the thirteenth tale, before being moved to the notes of the 1822 due to its too-great similarity with the KHM 1.

This fairytale was originally called "The king's daughter and the bewitched prince". The 1810 manuscript has, written by Jacob right next to the title, "The frog-king", while the paper on which he had placed all his notes about the fairytale bore the name "Iron Henry". The evolution of this fairytale is very interesting because it testifies the brothers' love and care for details, hich had the story double in sie throughout the editions. In the final text we have, for example, a long sentence describing how the princess sees the ball fall into a well so deep she can't see the end, and about her crying a lot and lamenting, etc, etc... In the 1810 manuscript it was just one short sentence "She stood near the well and she was sad."

The major editing of this tale was the removal of the erotic motif from the tale's ending. Originally, the frog asked the princess the authorizaton to sleep in her bed, and right after the frog became a human it was written "the princess joined the prince in bed". This, plus the addition by the Grimms of moral lessons delivered by the father (the king tells things such as "You must always keep your promise" and "You must not disdain the one who helps you"), completely changed the goal and purpose of the tale - it was originally about setting free an animal husband, but the Grimms turned it into a moral tale to learn a virtuous behavior.

The brothers Grimm considered this fairytale to be the oldest and most beautiful of their collection. Allusions to the frog-king tale can be found as early as the Middle-Ages and the 16th century. In the 1801 edtion of the 1548 Scottish book "Complaynt of Scotland", a note evokes how a tale is similar to "The Frog Prince" due to having a well, the presence of magic, and a frog complaining in rhymes. In this Scottish version, a girl is sent by her stepmother to fetch water at "the well of the world's end". There she meets the frog, who tells her it will offer her water only if she agrees to marry it - if not, the frog will rip the girl apart. The brothers Grimm themselves noted various literary sources for their tale, that they used in their compilation work. The name of Henry (Heinrich) comes from the novel "Der arme Heinrich" by Hartmann von Aue. They also listed the "Froschmeuseler", a didactic epic by Georg Rollenhagen depicting a war between frogs and mice: the association of sadness with "rings of iron" comes from this text, as well as the very name "frog-kng" which is found in the title of the second chapter "Tale of the encounter between Thief-of-Crumbs, son of the mice-king, with the frog-king".

The Wolf and the Seven young Goats (Der Wolf und die sieben jungen Geiblein)

It is the AaTh 123, "The wolf and the lambs".

Collected in the "region of Main" according to the Grimm, it is very likely that the brothers Grimm received this tale from someone of the Hassenpflug family, as they knew the French fables of La Fontaine which correspond to this fairytale. In the 5th edition of their book, the brothers Grimm modified their story due to the publication in 1842 of an Alsacian tale by Ströber, "Die sieben Gaislein", "The seven young goats" (collected in Volksbüchlein, "The Folks' Small Book) - Wilhelm Grimm borrowed several expressions from this text. The brothers Grimm listed this Alsacian tale in their notes.

In their notes the brothers Grimm listed a Pomeranian version about a child who, when his mother is out, is swallowed by a sort of bogeyman known as "The children's ghost". But since the ghost eats stone at the same time, he becomes slow and heavy - he falls and the child can escape his belly unharmed. The brothers Grimm also listed variations collected/written by Boner in his Edelstein, and by Buckhard Waldis - as well as the La Fontaine fables. They also knew of a French fairytale, from which they noted a passage where the wolf asks a miller to turn her paw white with flour, and since the miller refuses, the wolf threatens to eat him. The Grimms linked the episode of the wolf's belly filled with stones with the legend of a Nereid called Psamathe, who sent a wolf destroy the flocks of Peleas and Telamon, only for the wolf to be petrified.

This tale, like many others within the Grimm's collection (it is especially comparable "Cat and Mouse in Partnership) is aimed at educating young children, with the narrator highlighting how children should be wary and distrustful of the wickedness and cowardice of men. Unlike other versions and predecessors of the tale, the brothers Grimm insist on the mother's role as a teacher, and on the fact that she saves her kids.

Rapunzel

It is the AaTh 310, "The maiden in the tower".

The literary sources of this fairytale are well-known. It was preceeded by the French literary tale "Persinette", by mademoiselle de La Force, itself inspired by Basile's story "Parsley Flower". In their notes the brothers Grimm explained they took inspiration from the almost-literal German translation of mademoiselle de La Force's story by Friedrich Schulz. However, in quite a misunderstanding, the brothers admired this tale as being an obvious "folktale" coming from the "oral tradition" - when we know it was a literary fairytale, though based on a folkloric motif.

The text was heavily edited after the many criticism the first edition of the book underwent - the scene depicting the prince's relationship with Rapunzel was regularly changed. In 1837 it is written that the prince asked Rapunzel to marry him almost right away, and she agreed since he was young and pretty, and they "held hands". In 1819, it was written that they lived together in "joy and pleasure" for a certain time, and "loved each other like woman and wife", and the "fairy" only realizes something is up when Rapunzel blurts out it is easier to make the prince climb than her "godmother". In the 1812 edition, it is said that Rapunzel and prince lived together in "joy and pleasure", but no mention of any marital couple whatsoever - and Rapunzel betrays her condition to the "sorceress" because she complains about her clothes getting too tight.

The Grimm noted that many versions of the "girl in the tower" fairytale existed, but with a different opening relying on the "forbidden room" motif: the witch punished the girl by locking her up in a tower because she had opened a door the witch explicitely forbade her to. The Grimm also listed several stories (outside of Basile's version) where a mother (sometimes a father) bargains their future child to satisfy a temporary craving - such as the Nordic "Alfkongs-Saga", where Odin offers Signy's wish for the better bear in the world in exchange of what is "between her and the barrel", aka the child she bears. In a book of Büsching we find a girl named "Petersilie" (Parsley in German) which loves eating prasley more than anything in the world and brushes her long hair by a window. The idea of using hair as a rope or ladder, long before Basile used it, seems first recorded by from the "Book of the Kings" of the poet of Persia Firdoussi, in the 10th century: the hero, Zal, joins the beautiful Roudebeh by climbing up her braids.

The name the sorceress wears in the German tale, "Frau Gothel", had been explained by the Grimm in such a way: "The godfather is not only called Vater (father) but also Pathe (godfather/"parrain" in French), or Goth or Dod ; the baptized child is also called "Pathe" or "Gothel", hence the confusion of the two within the legend". So, the dominating hypothesis (which seems confirmed by the variations of the fairytale) is that "Gothel" means "godmother".

Hansel and Gretel (Hänsel und Gretel)

It is of course the AaTh 327 A, "Hänsel and Gretel" (a subtype of "The children and the ogre"). It also covers the AaTh 1121, "Burning the witch in her own oven".

In the 1810 manuscript this fairytale was called "Little brother and Little sister", a name that would later be reused by another famous Grimm fairytale (KHM 11). It seems that one of the reasons for the Grimm's big edits on this tale was the publication in 1842 of the Alsacian version of this story by August Stöber, "The little house of pancakes" (Das Eierkuchenhäuslein) - which itself was inspired by the Grimm's original publication of "Hansel and Gretel" (full loop here). Wilhelm Grimm notably borrowed several turn of phrases from Stöber.

The motif of the children abandoned in the woods can be found back in Basile's Nennillo and Nennella, though the extension to the encounter of a child-eating monster is rather present within Perrault's Petit Poucet and madame d'Aulnoy's Finette Cendron (both also contain the motif of the treasures inside the ogre's house). While we know the Grimms were aware of Perrault's story, we also know that madame d'Aulnoy's fairytales, including "Cunning Cinders" had been brought to Germany by ther adaptation for the German branch of the "Bibliothèque Bleue" - Blaue Bibliothek. Ludwig Bechstein's own version of "Hansel and Gretel" was very famous - and he actually wrote it inspired by the German translation of Stöber's own tale.

The motif of ashes, crumbs or seeds left behind to tell the way is recurring within the brothers Grimm fairytales: it also appears on the KHM 40 (The Robber Bridegroom) and 169 (The Hut in the Forest), as well as in their first "Legend for children". This motif can be found back in German literature to 1559's Gartengesellschaft (The company within the garden) by Martin Montanus, where it appears in the tale "The small earth-cow", Das Erdkühlein.

It is recognized that this fairytale is the second most popular and famous Grimm fairytale right after Snow-White. It was heavily illustrated - first by none other than Ludwig Emil Grimm himself (another brother of the Grimms). As we said before, Bechstein's own fairytale was a strong "rival" to the Grimm's, and was illustrated by Ludwig Richter in 1853. The motif of the "bird leading to the Ohterworld" is found back in the KHM 123 (The Old Woman in the Wood), and in both cases the fact the bird is white indicates that it is an Otherworldy animal.

The Brave Little Tailor (Das tapfere Schneiderlein)

This fairytale belongs to many different Aa-Th types: 1640 (The brave little tailor), 1051-1052 "Curb, cut and move a tree", 1060-1062 (Throwing-stone conquest), 1115 (Attempt to kill the hero in his bed).

The 1810 manuscript began with this tale as its opening, probably as an homage to Brentano, since Wilhelm Grimm found this tale within his library, in a book called "Wegkürtzer", by Martin Montanus.

Among the modifications of the 2nd edition, a very interesting one is the addition of a sentence closing the first paragraph "and his heart moved with joy like the tail of a small lamb". This sentence comes from a novel by Christian Weise calle "The three most mad madmen in the whole world/The three most foolish fools in the whole wide world" (1762). Wilhelm Grimm explained this, as well as several other similar "borrowings", in the preface of the sixth edition, as his desire to insert in his tales specific sentences and expressions he knew to be typically German.

The brothers Grimm notd that Montanus' Wegkürtzer was frequently alluded to within the Renaissance literature and the baroque one - for example, when Johann Fischart translated in German Rabelais' Gargantua he inserted the sentence "I will kill all these flies, nine at once, like this tailor once did." It was also evoked in the "Simplicissimus" of Grimmelshausen, but references to the Little Tailor story go back to the Middle-Ages. The episode of a giant crushing a stone until water comes out of it is found in "Brother Werner", from the Codex Manesse (which compiled German Minnesang, courtly poetry) ; and Heinrich von Freiberg's Tristan describes at one point the hero crushing a cheese until juice comes out of it. Montanus' text was also used by Ludwig Bechstein in his book of German fairytales. One can compare the story of the Grimms to Tabart's "Jack the giant-killer" and Afanassiev's "Foma Berennikov".

The measurements in this story make no sense at all. The tailor buys four half-ounces of marmelade. Given an ounce was roughly 32 gr, the tailor bought 60 gr roughly... Not a quarter of a pound, as he claims. The reason for this incoherence is because, before 1854, a "pound" varied depending on which area of Germany you were into (it was 467 gr in Berlin, 510 in Nuremberg). It was only in 1854 that the value of the pound was unified in Germany, at 500 gr. Finally we note the presence at the end of the tale of the common European belief n the "Wild Hunt".

Cinderella (Aschenputtel)

Of course, it is the Aa-Th 510A, "Cinderella".

As early as the first edition, this fairytale was a mix of several variations. In their notes, the brothers listed nine different versions of the tale. One of them is quite fascinating: the opening scene of the mother's death and her promises of help is missing, the story begins immediately on the heroine's misfortunes. The end of the version also greatly differs and enters the domain of the KHM 11 "Little-brother, Little-sister". Soon after his wedding with Cinderella, the prince forbids her to enter a specific room of the castle - but encouraged by her sister, she opens the room when the prince is absent. It contains a fountain of blood that Cinderella's sister uses for an evil use: after the queen gives birth to her first child, her sister throws her in the fountain and replaces her in the bed. But the guards of the castle hear the moans of Cinderella, rescue her and the wicked sister is punished. Another version, from Mecklembourg, has an ending which makes the tale close to the legend of saint Genevieve of Brabant: Cinderella's stepmother and stepsister steal away Cinderella's two first children and replace them with animals ; the third time she gives birth, they order the gardener to kill the queen and her child, but he rather hides them in a grotto in the woods, where the child is fed by a doe. One day the child, old enough, goes to the castle to speak to his father, revealing to him the fate of his mother.

Another version, this time from Paderborn, begins in a way very similar to "Snow-White": a queen wishes to have a child as red as a rose and as white as snow. She gets her wish, but then her servant pushes her outside of the window, to replace her as the king's wife. The usurper gives birth to two daughters, and from then on we return to the classical Cinderella tale - her dead mother helping her from beyond the grave by offering her a key, opening a hollow tree where Cnderella finds what she needs to wash herself and dress up pretty for the church (plus a prayer book). Büsching evoked the existence of another version in the Zittau area, where Cinderella is a miller's daughter that is forbidden to go to church, and where it is a dog that denounces the false fiancée. Outside of all these oral sources, the brothers Grimm took inspiration, of course, from Charles Perrault's Cinderella, as well as from the first German literary record of the Cinderella story, "Laskopal and Miliwka", published in an anonymous collection of legends in 1808 (Sagen der böhmischen Voreit aus einigen Gegenden alter Schlösser und Dörfer").

From the second edition onward, the brothers Grimm heavily edited the story. They removed all the words and passages that referenced too much Perrault's version, replacing them by elements taken specifically from the three versions they collected in Hesse (such as the demand for a branch of a nut-tree, and the motif of the tree growing on the grave). In the 1812 edition, it was Cinderella's own mother who advised her daughter to plant a tree on her grave, and who predicted that this tree will help her in the future. Throughout the rewrites, Wilhelm Grimm heavily insisted upon the heroine's virtues, accentuating them so that they would fit the feminine bourgeois ideal of the time.

The first European record of this tale is Basile's "The cat of the ashes", and other famous literary versions include Perrault's Cinderella, madame d'Aulnoy's Cunning Cinders, as well as Ludwig Bechstein's Aschenbrödel. These versions were massively spread throughout Europe, notably due to the "peddling literature", the cheap books sold by peddlers: they helped the "Cinderella" fairytale type becoming as popular as it is today, and it seems very likely they influenced all the versions of the tale that came after them.

In their notes, the brothers Grimm explicitely compared the motif of the shoe in Cinderella with the legend of Rhodopis, who had her shoe stolen by an eagle, and the pharaoh that found it had her owner searched throughout Egypt. However the motif of the animals helping a persecuted heroine (especially when it comes to splitting grains) is very common, and has been popularized by the Roman tale of "Cupid and Psyche".

This fairytale is closely tie to the KHM 130, "One-Eye, Two-Eyes and Three-Eyes", both sharing the idea of a young girl humiliated by her sisters, and who obtains a social ascension as a form of compensation. A. B. Rooth studied the evolution of the Cinderella fairytale-type, and its relation with other fairytale-types: they determined that it is very likely the "Cinderella" story was originally told as a sequel to the "One-Eye, Two-Eyes, Three-Eyes" story-type. Later, the second part of this story gained its own autonomy, and became the "Cinderella" we know today.

The sexual connotations within the motif of "trying on the shoe" has been repeatedly noted and analysed since the Grimms published their story. Jacob Grimm himself saw in this the remains of an archaic Germanic betrothing ritual. Heinz Rölleke highlighted another cultural ritual that involved the future husband of a bride removing her old shoes before marrying her. The idea of the slippers tied to a wedding is also found within the KHM 133 (The Shoes that were danced to Pieces).

The name of the heroine in Germa, "Aschenputtel" designates a type of kitchen girl who searches throughout the ashes, and thus "rolls" herself in them - but it also means figuratively an insignifiant and a dirty girl. It seems to derivate from the greek "achylia", cinders/ashes, and "puttos", female genital organs. A combination echoed by the French name "Culcendron", "Ashen-butt". By extension, the name "Aschenputtel" can also designate the younger brother when he is disdained by his brothers and considered to be an idiot by his family: there is a lot of male Cinderellas in folktales, especially in Northern and Central Europe, but also in all German-speaking countries.

Frau Holle

Belongs to the AaTh 480 "The kind and unkind girls".

This story was told to Wilhelm Grimm by his future wife, Henrietta Dorothea Wild, who was then 18 years old. A secondary source was a tale told to their by the Hanovre pastor, Georg August Friedrich Goldmann - this second version contained the episode of the rooster saluting the girls. The second edition of the brothers Grimm's book added several details to this story to "rationalize" it - notably the Grimm added of their own an explanation as to why the girl jumps into the well.

This fairytale comes from Hesse and Westphalia. The brothers Grimm listed in their notes four other versions of it - and the first is more noticeable, because it echoes "Hansel and Gretel", as the house where the girls arrive is made of pancakes (crêpes). Older literary versions of "Frau Holle" can be found in Basile's Pentamerone (The Months, The Three Fairies), as well as within a French fairytale written by Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve, "Les nymphes" (The Nymphs). Translated in German in 1765, Villeneuve's fairytale notably inspired the Grimms when they composed their 1810 manuscript - they adapted her tale as their own story called "The marmot". Before the brothers Grimm, "ancestors" of "Frau Holle" can be found in various German fairytales, present in the collections of W. Reynitzsch (1802) and Benedikte Naubert (1789). Ludwig Bechsten did his own version of the fairytale (Gold-Mary and Pitch-Mary, Die Goldamaria und die Pechmaria) which had a huge success in Germany.

This fairytale belongs to a wide series of tales in which young girls leave their house to enter a far-away country which might be the Otherworld, and where they become the servants of a spernatural being. There, by performing tasks in a disinterested manner, they are rewarded. As with other fairytales, "Frau Holle" shows how the Otherworld and our world are inter-dependant with each other. "Frau Holle" had a huge mediatic success: it was adapted several times as movies, it is heavily present in children's literature, and it was heavily illustrated. The character of Frau Holle ("Holle" derivading from the Middle-High-German "hulde", "benvolent") is an ambiguous character, and shares several characteristic with Germanic water-spirits. She is a giver of supernatural gifts and goods, but she also punishes the wicked. This supernatural character is very present in German legends, especially in the oral tradition which associates her with the works of weaving and spinning. She might have her roots in the figure of a spirit in charge of women's initiation rituals.

Little Red Riding Hood (Rotkäppchen)

It is of course the AaTh 333: "Little Red Riding Hood".

The two versions the brothers Grimm used to create this story were told to them by Johanna Isabella and Marie Hassenpflug. Isabella's version was most notable for being an obvious transposition of Charles Perrault's fairytales - with two elements changed. The tragic ending was modifed so that the girl and her grandmother would be saved ; and the erotic connotations of Perrault's fairytale (where the wolf was presented as a dangerous seducer) were removed.

Charles Perrault's fairytale was also present in German literature through Ludwig Tieck's verse tragedy "The life and death of little Red Riding Hood" (Leben und Tod des kleinen Rotkäppchens), published in 1800. As for Ludwig Bechstein, he inspired himself from the brothers Grimm tale to create his own "Little Red Riding Hood". M-L-Tenèze has worked on collecting all the oral and popular versions of Little Red Riding Hood in France, its birth-country, and has identified its original format as it must have been told before Perrault: usually they end like his tale in a tragic way for the girl, but rarely she notices she is in bed with a monster and manages to trick it to escape. However a detail Perrault erased and that is present in these versions is how the wolf keeps a bit of the grandmother's flesh and blood, that he offers to the little girl as food.

The first version of this story, in the original edition of the brothers Grimm book, was much more didactic than the one we have today, heavily insisting on how the little girl should have obeyed to her mother, and how there are specific ways to interact with strangers on the road - and in fact, it seems that the reason this fairytale was so popular and widespread was precisely because of its didactic nature. Because everybody knows the "original" version of the Grimm better than the final one, their second and revised text that shows a heroine able to learn from her mistakes, and ending up defeating the wolf of her own without any outside help. It should be noted that the first version of the Grimm tale had an echoing motif with the KHM 5 "The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids".

The Musicians of the Town of Bremen (De Bremer Stadtmusikanten)

They eblong to the AT type 130 "The animals find a house for the night", more specifically the AT 130 B, "The animals flee after a death threat".

This fairytale, like many of those present in the brothers Grimm collection, was actually the fusion of two distinct stories they collected. The brothers Grimm described in their notes a literary source for this story: a long extract from "Froschmeuseler", a didactic epic by Georg Rollenhagen published in 1595 and which had animals as protagonists. In this text however, it is a dog that leads the six other animals (an ox, a donkey, a cat, a rooster and a goose). For this poem (of 20 000 verses) Rollenhagen himself had another literary inspiration: a first-century epic describing a war between frogs and mice.

The nicknames of the various animals were only added in the third edition of the book. The notes of the brothers contain a third version of the tale they did not use, and which mostly differs when they arrive at the robbers' house. Instead of chasing them away, the animals enter peacefully in the robbers' den, play music and are fed as a reward. Then the robbers leave, and when they return they send one of theirs to check if everything is alright in the house - and he suffers the fate described in the Grimm's final tale. There are other versions of the story where there are only two animals involved (a dog and a rooster), who get involved with a fox that the dog ultimately kills. In fact, the oldest versions of this tale all deal with domestic animals confronting, not human criminals, but rather savage animals of the forest. Outside of Rollenhagen's text, another literary precedent was a poem of Hans Sachs from 1551, where the house is inhabited by wolves.

The title of this story seems to refer to traditional mockeries of the music of the town of Bremen, which was a very famous city at the time. Anti-Aarne wrote an entire monography about this tale-type, "The travelling animals" (Die Tiere auf der Wanderschaft) where he highlighted how this story was the Western "sibling" of a more Oriental fairytale-type, the AaTh 210 "The rooster, the chicken, the duck, the pin and the needle are travelling". This tale is mostly present in the Far-East (Middle-East?), and very rare in Western Europe - but it is still present within the brothers Grimm's collection as the KHM 10 (The Pack of Ragamuffins), 41 (Herr Korbes), and 80 (The Death of the Little Hen). The oldest Western form of this other fairytale type is within the Latin poem by Nivard of Gand, 1150's "Ysengrimus", where animals considered too old are banished by their masters or about to be killed, and flee into the forest. The "Roman de Renart" (the Roman of Reynard) also contains ths motif in its eighth branch - and the ingratitude of mankind towards the creatures that served them all their life is also a theme of the KHM 48 (Old Sultan).

[sevbutfandoms]

Heinrich info!!

He's based on Iron Heinrich [how ironic, that's also his name] who was the loyal servant of the prince frog in the original fairytale by the grimm brothers [which is also ironic cause he's the servant of King Harold lol]

He is very dependent on the king and queen, most of the time he is around them making sure they are okay. He after all he has known them for a long long time... [That means he also knows the whole Harold is a frog deal but his loyalty to him is so massive that he never revealed the secret]

He has a calm and loyal demeanor, but sudden negative changes make him act very nervous and erratic and cause him to faint. Heinrich often dramatizes the gravity of the situation saying things such as "I'm having a heart attack!!!!!!" "My heart is about to explodeee!!" [which is a parallel to the original story of Iron Heinrich, since he is the servant with the 3 gold bars in his heart]

I don't have much else planned for him.. I made him just to be out there and interact with my favorite Shrek characters [COFCOF AND TOTALLY NOT TO SELFSHIP WITH HAROLD] Soo that's it for now . I'm very bad at explaining OCs I know ;u;

[mysunfreckle]

I've seen several people mention that Gerard's backstory of being turned into a frog by the fairy for being a disrespectful child when he was a little prince is a nice nod to Disney's Beauty and the Beast, in which the Beast was also cursed as a child. And I agree!

What I find extra delightful about that parallel is that Gerard clearly comes from a more romantic version of the Frog Prince (the one where he is kissed instead of thrown violently against the wall like the darker version he ended up in after coming back to life). And there actually is a more romantic Frog Prince story collected by the brothers Grimm that has more elements in common with Beauty and the Beast:

It was only included in their 1815 collection and then left out because it was so similar to The Frog King, but in this version (Der Froschprinz) three princesses go to drink from a well, but find it only gives them cloudy water. In the well there is a frog who promises each sister after the other to give her clear water if she agrees to be his sweetheart. The first two refuse, but the last one that goes agrees, because she thinks the frog can't possibly really become her sweetheart. The evening after however the frog comes to remind her of her promise and she lets him sleep in her bed for three nights. Then, on the third morning, she finds a handsome prince in her bed instead of a frog, who explains she has broken his enchantment. They get permission from her father the king to marry and her two sisters are both angry they did not take the frog as their sweetheart themselves.

The agreement to be a sweetheart is close to the agreement to get married from Beauty and the Beast, and there being two (jealous) sisters also fits with the older versions of that story. Interestingly the folklorist Ashliman points out that the first English translator of the Grimms' tales, Edgar Taylor, combined this story with the Grimms' The Frog King or Iron Heinrich. He kept the frog retrieving the golden ball, but changed the ending where the princess breaks the curse by chucking him against the wall into the ending where she lets him sleep in her bed. So still no kiss, but more romantic. And that is the version that English speakers got to know as The Frog Prince!

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

✌🏼language ask

favourite proverb/saying from your language

the best ones I can think of rn are low-key mean but very funny:

"da will man nicht tot überm Zaun hängen" ["you wouldn't want to be a corpse hanging over a fence there"]

there is nothing to see or do in that place and it's not nice, don't go there. i.e. "In Bremerhaven will man auch nicht tot überm Zaun hängen" (feel free to @ me, I feel this very strongly about Bremerhaven and you won't change my mind)

"die Radieschen von unten anschauen" ["look at the radishes from below"]

to be dead. i.e. "Der schaut schon seit zehn Jahren die Radieschen von unten an."

"Zwei Dumme, ein Gedanke" ["two idiots, one thought"]

essentially two minds think alike, but vastly superior to what has become of the English saying in my opinion. Strong resemblance to "one braincell" memes, and I love that.

"auf dem Teppich bleiben" ["staying on the carpet"]

this is usually used as an imperative, i.e. "Jetzt bleib mal auf dem Teppich!", to mean something like don't exaggerate

"ein Stein vom Herzen fallen" ["a stone falling off of one's heart"]

a huge relief, i.e. "Da fällt mir ein Stein vom Herzen."

BONUS ROUND for weird in-house sayings in my family:

"Da warst du noch Quark im Schaufenster" ["You were still curd in the shop window then"]

this happened before your time (somehow specifically before you were even conceived? I figure in this metaphor buying the curd is conception and then opening the container when you come home is birth???) This might be a real saying but I've never heard anyone outside of my family use it.

"als du noch ein Frosch gewast" ["when you were still a frog"]

when you were little

This one is fully a family in-joke, it's a reference to Iron Henry, the Frog King's servant from the Grimm fairy tale. Basically when the Frog King is turned back from a frog into a human, his old servant drives him and the princess to the Frog King's castle and there's a loud noise and the Frog King goes:

"Heinrich, der Wagen bricht!" ["Henry, the carriage has broken!"]

and he explains:

"Nein Herr, der Wagen nicht. ["No sire, 'tis not the carriage] Es ist ein Band von meinem Herzen [it was an (iron) bond around my heart] das da lag in großen Schmerzen [that was afflicted with great pain] als Ihr in dem Brunnen saßt [when you were sitting in the well] als Ihr noch ein Frosch gewast" [when you were still a frog."]

So the servant was so sad about his master being turned into a frog that he had to keep his broken heart together with three iron bands, and as they ride home they pop off one after the other. It's a really weird but also oddly sweet part of the fairy tale that always gets left out, probably because poor old Henry is not mentioned at any point before this and then just randomly appears, supposedly super sad about his poor master but apparently not sad enough to keep him company while he was a frog in a well?

Anyway none of this eplains why my mum made this into a saying but she did. Probably because both she and I always found the weird verb at the end of the sentence funny - that's not how you German, at least not in modern time, but it's how the Grimms got the poem to rhyme. [It's also worth noting they absolutely didn't need to make it rhyme, the rest of the fairy tale doesn't...]

language asks

[demi-queen]

So my brother got a complete book of Brothers Grimm stories (one of the nice ones from Costco), and the first story is called “The Frog-King or Iron Henry,” and it goes something like this:

So there was this princess that was born, who was basically the most beautiful thing in the universe and her favorite thing to play with was this golden ball. One day when she was playing with it by throwing it up into the air and catching it, she missed and it dropped into a well. This well was much too deep for her to get the golden ball back herself, so she started sobbing her eyes out. Then she hears a voice speak, “your tears would make anyone stop to help, what troubles you?” (Or something like that) and she looks up to see a frog. So she explains that her favorite toy, the golden ball, fell into the well and she couldn’t get to it herself. The talking frog then says he can get it for her, as long as she does something for him. So the idiot princess goes “what do you desire? I’ll give you anything- my clothes, my riches, by jewelry, my crown… anything.” And the frog guy goes “I don’t want any of that stuff, all I want is to be your companion, and for you to love me forever. To go with you, to eat from the same table as you, and the same plate as you, etc etc.” Now she really wants this golden ball back, and apparently she wants to go the most convenient route and not ask any of her dad’s servants or anything to help her out, so she goes “fine. Get my ball back, and you will have what you desire.” So the frog gets the golden ball back for her. Unfortunately for him, the princess was never planning on honoring her promise, and she runs off happily with her golden ball, leaving him behind, calling after her to bring him with her. Then, when she and her father are having dinner together, they hear a knock on the door. Apparently princesses open their own doors though, because the princess opens the door and sees the frog standing there. She immediately slams the door in his face in fright, and goes back to her father, who inquired about what that was all about. So she tells him what had happened and he says, “you made a promise, and now you have to keep it. Let him in and do as you promised.” The princess, horrified, goes, “ugh, fine.” And let’s the frog in. She keeps trying to go against her promise, but every time her father makes her abide by the promises she gave. Eventually, she’s ready for bed and the frog is like, “let me sleep in your bed with you.” (Which is pretty creepy) and she just explodes. She’s so mad, she picks up the frog, and throws him against the wall. Apparently, that was the exact right thing to do to break the spell the frog was under. You see, the frog was actually a prince, and heir to his thrown, who had been cursed to be a frog for some reason I can’t remember. This is when you learn about iron Henry (which I think is actually just the englishified version of his name, and it’s actually Heinrich or smth), who was so faithful and dedicated to his prince, that when the prince disappeared, he had iron wrapped around his heart (He’s the prince’s servant btw). Anyways, back to the main story. The prince then is like “you were the only who could have broke the spell!” And goes and asks the king if he can marry the princess. Because apparently the prince is a masochist. The king says yes, and the prince and princess get married and ride away in a carriage, which is driven by Henry. Along the way, they hear a cracking sound and the prince is like, “Henry, why is the carriage breaking?” And Henry goes, “oh that’s not the carriage. It’s the iron that I had around my heart, breaking because you’ve come back.” This is apparently a very reasonable response, because the prince accepts that and moves on with his life, even as they hear the cracking sound a few more times during the carriage ride. The end.

So I retold this story to my mom, and she’s like, “oh, the prince is gay!” And I was like, “what?” So she goes, “yeah, that’s why he didn’t care about what the princess did! He just needed a princess to break the spell and to marry so he could go back to his lover, Henry.” Which I’ve decided makes a lot of sense, and I now accept as the truth. Let the prince and Henry be gay lovers and have the princess be a side character in their story.

Some questions you might be having, because they’re questions I had:

Why is it called “The Frog-King or Iron Henry” if the frog was a prince, and you don’t know anything about Henry until the very end, and even that seems like a very last-minute addition to the story?

Idk, that’s a good question. I don’t really know tbh

How accurate is this translation from German to English?

Another good question that I don’t have an answer to.

Is that really how it ends?

Apparently. I agree, it was a very unsatisfactory ending

Is this what Princess and the Frog was based off of?

I can only assume the answer to that question is “yes,” and people who aren’t German figured that kissing a frog to break a spell was more romantic than throwing it at a wall, and that the princess shouldn’t be the villain in the story.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

Retold fairy tales are my favorite genre, too. When I was in college, way back when, Joseph Campbell 🤮 was all the rage, and we were told that fairy tales were almost sacred and pure connections to an oral culture Past.

When I learned, many years later, that the Grimm Bros. deliberately retold their stories with a specific political message in mind, I said (to myself): "Screw it! If it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me."

And I started to rewrite the stories from my disabled, queer, P.O.V..

In October of 2021, I rewrote "The Frog King, or Iron Heinrich," and it's still one of my favorite pieces.

At the end of the day my favorite genre of fiction is campy fantasy cheese with a lot of heart. Give me more Willows, Princess Brides, Labyrinths, and things along that line. But make them infinitely gayer.

TBH I eventually want to make my own collection of retold faerie tales, using all my personal faves. But every time I get an idea for one, my brain slaps it aside by reminding me just how nasty people get toward retold faerie tales for no goddamn reason. IDK how much people outside the author world pay attention, but writer community spaces were outright hostile to faerie tale retellings for years, calling them "boring" and "lazy" and "done to death." People still act like jerks about them and act like they're not worth playing with.

I know we're all tired of Disney remaking animated classics just to extend copyright and rake in nostalgia bucks, but when I was in school, one of my English teachers had us do an entire project comparing and contrasting different versions of Cinderella. We had to read five different Cinderella stories to see what we could learn from looking at what the different authors chose to emphasize in their version. Then we had to write our own Cinderella, with the conscious thought of what topic we wanted to look at through the lens of "poor girl is abused by her family and sneaks out to a party."

Classic faerie tales are like a "draw this in your style" but for authors, and I LOVE THAT SHIT SO MUCH.

[droo216]

fairy tale meme ❧ [7/7 ships] the frog king x iron heinrich

    The next morning, just as the sun was waking them, a carriage pulled up, drawn by eight horses. They had white ostrich feathers on their heads and were outfitted with chains of gold. At the rear stood the young king's servant, faithful Heinrich. Faithful Heinrich had been so saddened by his master's transformation into a frog that he had had to place three iron bands around his heart to keep it from bursting in grief and sorrow. The carriage was to take the king back to his kingdom. Faithful Heinrich [...] was filled with joy over the redemption.     After they had gone a short distance, the prince heard a crack from behind, as though something had broken. He turned around and said, "Heinrich, the carriage is breaking apart."     “No, my lord, the carriage it's not, but one of the bands surrounding my heart that suffered such great pain when you were sitting in the well when you were a frog.”

[laurasimonsdaughter]

There was something so elegant about one’s wedding dress and coronation gown being one and the same. The young queen studied the heirloom ring on her hand. It was gold, just like the beloved golden ball now hidden away in her chest with her other treasures from home. She did not expect to have much time to sit idly by the waterside and play. Not anymore.

But that would be a small price to pay in return for her new life. A devoted husband, an entire kingdom of her own… She had not expected to find a match so soon, but it suited her very well to be out from under her father’s roof and rule. He would no longer be able to tell her what to do, and absence, she had decided, would make both their hearts grow fonder. Besides, she could write to her mother and sisters every other day if she liked. She smiled. They had looked both so proud and so envious, seeing her dressed in snowy white.

All this, and all because of a foolish promise to a frog.

[mondfahrt]

Faithful Heinrich had been so saddened by his master's transformation into a frog that he had had to place three iron bands around his heart to keep it from bursting in grief and sorrow.

| Grimm’s Fairytales: The Frog King, or Iron Heinrich, tr. D.L. Ashliman

Inspired by “Precious Stones: Amethyst” by Alphonse Mucha (1900)

[ariel-seagull-wings]

@themousefromfantasyland @softlytowardthesun @princesssarisa @superkingofpriderock

THE EVOLUTION OF THE FROG KING TYPE OF TALE

So, there are three german variations of the Frog Prince type tale, two of wich are collected by the Grimm Brothers, plus an english language translation of the first variation.

1° The Frog King; or, Iron Heinrich (Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Germany)

Once upon a time there was a princess who went out into a forest and sat next to a cool well. She took great pleasure in throwing a golden ball into the air and catching it, but once it went too high. She held out her hand with her fingers curved to catch it, but it fell to the ground and rolled and rolled right into the water.

Horrified, the princess followed it with her eyes, but the well was so deep that she could not see its bottom. Then she began to cry bitterly, "I'd give anything, if only I could get my ball back: my clothes, my precious stones, my pearls, anything in the world." At this a frog stuck his head out of the water and said, "Princess, why are you crying so bitterly?"

"Oh," she said, "you ugly frog, how can you help me? My golden ball has fallen into the well."

The frog said, "I do not want your pearls, your precious stones, and your clothes, but if you'll accept me as a companion and let me sit next to you and eat from your plate and sleep in your bed, and if you'll love and cherish me, then I'll bring your ball back to you."

The princess thought, "What is this stupid frog trying to say? After all, he does have to stay here in the water. But still, maybe he can get my ball. I'll go ahead and say yes," and she said aloud, "Yes, for all I care. Just bring me back my golden ball, and I'll promise everything."

The frog stuck his head under the water and dove to the bottom. He returned a short time later with the golden ball in his mouth and threw it onto the land. When the princess saw her ball once again, she rushed toward it, picked it up, and was so happy to have it in her hand again, that she could think of nothing else than to run home with it. The frog called after her, "Wait, princess, take me with you like you promised," but she paid no attention to him.

The next day the princess was sitting at her table when she heard something coming up the marble steps: plop, plop. Then there came a knock at the door, and a voice called out, "Princess, princess, open the door for me!" She ran and opened the door. It was the frog, whom she had put completely out of her mind. Frightened, she slammed the door shut and returned to the table.

The king saw that her heart was pounding and asked, "Why are you afraid?"

"There is a disgusting frog out there," she said, "who got my golden ball out of the water. I promised him that he could be my companion, but I didn't think that he could leave his water, but now he is just outside the door and wants to come in." Just then there came a second knock at the door, and a voice called out:

Youngest daughter of the king,

Open up the door for me,

Don't you know what yesterday,

You said to me down by the well?

Youngest daughter of the king,

Open up the door for me.

The king said, "What you have promised, you must keep. Go and let the frog in." She obeyed, and the frog hopped in, then followed her up to her chair.

After she had sat down again, he called out, "Lift me up onto your chair and let me sit next to you." The princess did not want to, but the king commanded her to do it. When the frog was seated next to her he said, "Now push your golden plate closer. I want to eat from it." She had to do this as well. When he had eaten all he wanted, he said, "Now I am tired and want to sleep. Take me to your room, make your bed, so that we can lie in it together."

The princess was horrified when she heard that. She was afraid of the cold frog and did not dare to even touch him, and yet he was supposed to lie next to her in her bed; she began to cry and didn't want to at all. Then the king became angry and commanded her to do what she had promised. There was no helping it; she had to do what her father wanted, but in her heart she was bitterly angry. She picked up the frog with two fingers, carried him to her room, and climbed into bed, but instead of laying him next to herself, she threw him bang! against the wall. "Now you will leave me in peace, you ugly frog!" But when the frog came down onto the bed, he was a handsome young prince, and he was her dear companion, and she held him in esteem as she had promised, and they fell asleep together with pleasure.

The next morning the prince's faithful Heinrich arrived in a splendid carriage drawn by eight horses and decorated with feathers and glistening with gold. He had been so saddened by the prince's enchantment that he had had to place three iron bands around his heart to keep it from bursting in sorrow. The prince climbed into the carriage with the princess. His faithful servant stood at the rear to drive them to his kingdom. After they had gone a short distance, the prince heard a loud crack. He turned around and said:

"Heinrich, the carriage is breaking apart."

"No, my lord, the carriage it's not,

But one of the bands surrounding my heart,

That suffered such great pain,

When you were sitting in the well,

When you were a frog."

Once again, and then once again the prince heard a cracking sound and thought that the carriage was breaking apart, but it was the bands springing from faithful Heinrich's heart because his master was now redeemed and happy.

2° The Frog Prince (Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Germany)

Once upon a time there was a king who had three daughters. In his courtyard there was a well with wonderful clear water. One hot summer day the oldest daughter went down and drew herself a glassful, but when she held it to the sun, she saw that it was cloudy. This seemed strange to her, and she was about to pour it back when a frog appeared in the water, stuck his head into the air, then jumped out onto the well's edge, saying:

If you will be my sweetheart dear,

Then I will give you water clear.

"Ugh! Who wants to be the sweetheart of an ugly frog!" exclaimed the princess and ran away. She told her sisters about the amazing frog down at the well who was making the water cloudy. The second one was curious, so she too went down and drew herself a glassful, but it was so cloudy that she could not drink it. Once again the frog appeared at the well's edge and said:

If you will be my sweetheart dear,

Then I will give you water clear.

"Not I!" said the princess, and ran away. Finally the third sister came and drew a glassful, but it was no better than before. The frog also said to her:

If you will be my sweetheart dear,

Then I will give you water clear.

"Why not! I'll be your sweetheart. Just give me some clean water," she said, while thinking, "There's no harm in this. You can promise him anything, for a stupid frog can never be your sweetheart."

The frog sprang back into the water, and when she drew another glassful it was so clear that the sun glistened in it with joy. She drank all she wanted and then took some up to her sisters, saying, "Why were you so stupid as to be afraid of a frog?"

The princess did not think anything more about it until that evening after she had gone to bed. Before she fell asleep she heard something scratching at the door and a voice singing:

Open up! Open up!

Youngest daughter of the king.

Remember that you promised me

While I was sitting in the well,

That you would be my sweetheart dear,

If I would give you water clear.

"Ugh! That's my boyfriend the frog," said the princess. "I promised, so I will have to open the door for him." She got up, opened the door a crack, and went back to bed. The frog hopped after her, then hopped onto her bed where he lay at her feet until the night was over and the morning dawned. Then he jumped down and disappeared out the door.

The next evening, when the princess once more had just gone to bed, he scratched and sang again at the door. The princess let him in, and he again lay at her feet until daylight came. He came again on the third evening, as on the two previous ones. "This is the last time that I'll let you in," said the princess. "It will not happen again in the future." Then the frog jumped under her pillow, and the princess fell asleep. She awoke in the morning, thinking that the frog would hop away once again, but now a beautiful young prince was standing before her. He told her that he had been an enchanted frog and that she had broken the spell by promising to be his sweetheart. Then they both went to the king who gave them his blessing, and they were married. The two other sisters were angry with themselves that they had not taken the frog for their sweetheart.

3° The Frog Prince (The first English translation of the tale 'The Frog King, or; Iron Heinrich'. Edgar Taylor, England)

One fine evening a young princess went into a wood, and sat down by the side of a cool spring of water. She had a golden ball in her hand, which was her favorite plaything, and she amused herself with tossing it into the air and catching it again as it fell. After a time she threw it up so high that when she stretched out her hand to catch it, the ball bounded away and rolled along upon the ground, till at last it fell into the spring. The princess looked into the spring after her ball; but it was very deep, so deep that she could not see the bottom of it.

Then she began to lament her loss, and said, "Alas! If I could only get my ball again, I would give all my fine clothes and jewels, and everything that I have in the world."

Whilst she was speaking a frog put its head out of the water and said, "Princess, why do you weep so bitterly?"

"Alas! said she, "What can you do for me, you nasty frog? My golden ball has fallen into the spring."

The frog said, "I want not your pearls and jewels and fine clothes; but if you will love me and let me live with you, and eat from your little golden plate, and sleep upon your little bed, I will bring you your ball again."

"What nonsense," thought the princess, "This silly frog is talking! He can never get out of the well. However, he may be able to get my ball for me; and therefore I will promise him what he asks." So she said to the frog, "Well, if you will bring me my ball, I promise to do all you require."

Then the frog put his head down, and dived deep under the water; and after a little while he came up again with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the ground. As soon as the young princess saw her ball, she ran to pick it up, and was so overjoyed to have it in her hand again, that she never thought of the frog, but ran home with it as fast as she could.

The frog called after her, "Stay, princess, and take me with you as you promised." But she did not stop to hear a word.

The next day, just as the princess had sat down to dinner, she heard a strange noise, tap-tap, as if somebody was coming up the marble staircase. And soon afterwards something knocked gently at the door, and said,

Open the door, my princess dear,

Open the door to thy true love here!

And mind the words that thou and I said

By the fountain cool in the greenwood shade.

Then the princess ran to the door and opened it, and there she saw the frog, whom she had quite forgotten. She was terribly frightened, and shutting the door as fast as she could, came back to her seat. The king, her father, asked her what had frightened her.

"There is a nasty frog," said she, "at the door, who lifted my ball out of the spring this morning. I promised him that he should live with me here, thinking that he could never get out of the spring; but there he is at the door and wants to come in!"

While she was speaking the frog knocked again at the door, and said,

Open the door, my princess dear,

Open the door to thy true love here!

And mind the words that thou and I said

By the fountain cool in the greenwood shade.

The king said to the young princess, "As you have made a promise, you must keep it. So go and let him in."

She did so, and the frog hopped into the room, and came up close to the table. "Pray lift me upon a chair," said he to the princess, "and let me sit next to you." As soon as she had done this, the frog said, "Put your plate closer to me that I may eat out of it." This she did. And when he had eaten as much as he could, he said, "Now I am tired. Carry me upstairs and put me into your little bed."

And the princess took him up in her hand and put him upon the pillow of her own little bed, where he slept all night long. As soon as it was light he jumped up, hopped downstairs, and went out of the house.

"Now," thought the princess, "he is gone, and I shall be troubled with him no more."

But she was mistaken; for when night came again, she heard the same tapping at the door, and when she opened it, the frog came in and slept upon her pillow as before till the morning broke.

And the third night he did the same; but when the princess awoke on the following morning, she was astonished to see, instead of the frog, a handsome prince gazing on her with the most beautiful eyes that ever were seen, and standing at the head of her bed.

He told her that he had been enchanted by a malicious fairy, who had changed him into the form of a frog, in which he was fated to remain till some princess should take him out of the spring and let him sleep upon her bed for three nights. "You," said the prince, "have broken this cruel charm, and now I have nothing to wish for but that you should go with me into my father's kingdom, where I will marry you, and love you as long as you live."

The young princess, you may be sure, was not long in giving her consent; and as they spoke a splendid carriage drove up with eight beautiful horses decked with plumes of feathers and golden harness, and behind rode the prince's servant, the faithful Henry, who had bewailed the misfortune of his dear master so long and bitterly that his heart had well nigh burst. Then all set out full of joy for the prince's kingdom, where they arrived safely, and lived happily a great many years.

4° The Enchanted Frog (Carl and Theodor Colshorn, Germany)

Once upon a time there was a merchant who had three daughters, but his wife was with God. Once he planned a journey across the ocean to a foreign land in order to bring back gold and other valuable things. He consoled his weeping children, saying, "I will bring back something beautiful for you. What do you want?"

The oldest asked for a silk dress, "and it must be made of three kinds of silk."

The second desired a feathered hat, "and it must have three kinds of feathers."

The youngest finally said, "Bring me a rose, dear father, and it must be fresh and have three colors."

The merchant promised to do this, kissed his daughters, and departed.

After arriving in the foreign land, he ordered the dress of three kinds of silk for his oldest daughter and the hat with three kinds of feathers for the second one. Both were soon finished, and of seldom splendor. Then he sent messengers throughout the entire country to seek a three-colored rose for his youngest and dearest daughter, but they all returned empty handed, even though the merchant had promised a high price, and even though there were more roses there than there are daisies here.

Sadly he set off for home and was downhearted the entire voyage. This side of the ocean he came to a large garden in which there was nothing but roses and roses. He went inside and looked, and behold, on a slender bush in the middle of the garden there was a three-colored rose. Filled with joy, he plucked it, and was about to leave, when he was magically frozen in place.

A voice behind him cried out, "What do you want in my garden?" He looked up. A large frog was sitting there on the bank of a clear pond staring at him with its goggle-eyes. It said, "You have broken my dear rose. This will cost you your life unless you give me your youngest daughter to wife."

The merchant was terrified. He begged and he pleaded, but all to no avail, and in the end he had to agree to marry his dearest daughter to the ugly frog. He could now move his feet, and he freely walked out of the garden. The frog called out after him, "In seven days I shall come for my wife!"

With great sorrow the merchant gave his youngest daughter the fresh rose and told her what had happened. When the terrible day arrived, she crept under her bed, for she did not at all want to go. At the hour of noon a stately carriage drove up. The frog sent his servants into the house, and they immediately went to the bedroom and dragged the screaming maiden from beneath her bed, then carried her to the carriage. The horses leaped forward, and a short time later they were in the blossoming rose garden. In the middle of the garden, immediately behind the clear pond, there stood a small house. They took the bride into the house and laid her on a soft bed. The frog, however, sprang into the water.

Darkness fell, and after the maiden had awakened from her unconsciousness, she heard the frog outside singing wonderfully sweet melodies. As midnight approached, he sang ever more sweetly, and came closer and closer to her. At midnight the bedroom door opened, and the frog jumped onto her bed. However, he had touched her with his sweet songs, and she took him into bed with her and warmly covered him up.

The next morning when she opened her eyes, behold, the ugly frog was now the handsomest prince in the world. He thanked her with all his heart, saying, "You have redeemed me and are now my wife!" And they lived long and happily together.

CONTEXT

So, what happened is: because of its close similarity with "The Frog King," the Grimm's "Frog Prince" was omitted from all future editions of the Grimms' collection. Curiously, the first English translator of the Grimms' tales, Edgar Taylor, combined the two versions. He called the story "The Frog Prince," giving it the beginning of the Grimms' "The Frog King" and the conclusion of the Grimms' "The Frog Prince". Edgar Taylor, the translator of "The Frog King," departs from his source in substantial ways. Not only does he change the title, but he totally revises the ending, replacing the Grimms' violent resolution with one of passivity. It appears that, in his judgment, the English readers of the 1820's, unlike their German counterparts, would not accept a heroine who throws her frisky bed companion against the wall.

And the Colshorn Brothers "Enchanted Frog" is basically a variant of the "Beauty and the Beast" type of tale (Aarne-Thompson-Uther 425), with the Grimm's and Taylor's "Frog Prince" tales (Aarne-Thompson-Uther 440).

[ibrithir-was-here]

Round two of “Brambles”, my hypothetical comic book series of fairy tale adaptations!

(I actually do have story ideas for all the ones I’ve done, I just need to pick one and start doing propercomics of them 😅 but for now I stave off guilt with potential covers)

Logo-less pictures under the cut

[twstrsaheadcanons]

My OCs’ Etymology

This list will break down the etymology and origin of the names of my twst ocs. This may be updated with new ocs so this will be tagged “names” for you to find.

Frederich Brunnen (Snow White’s Prince):

Some documents in the Disney archives call the prince “Frederick”, although it’s usually accepted that the prince’s name is Florian.

“Brunnen” is German for fountain, referencing the wishing well where Snow White and the prince first meet.

Charmant Fête (Prince Charming):

“Charmant” is French for Charming.

“Fête” is French for party or festival, referencing the ball where Cinderella and the prince meet.

Verre/Ash Trein (Cinderella):

“Verre” is French for glass.

In the original story, Cinderella is given her name because she sleeps by the fireplace and gets cinders and ashes on her face.

Faith Fairwife (Fairy Godmother):

The Fairy Godmother says to Cinderella, “If you'd lost all your hope, I couldn't be here.” This suggests that the Fairy Godmother is the physical manifestation of Cinderella’s hope.

Jour Rosamund (Aurora):

In the original Sleeping Beauty by Charles Perrault, Sleeping Beauty has two children with the prince, who are named Aurora (Dawn) and Jour (Day).

In some translations of Grimm’s Sleeping Beauty, the princess is named Rosamund.

Florimund Désiré (Prince Phillip):

In the Sleeping Beauty ballet by Tchaikovsky, where the Disney version takes all its music from, the prince is named Désiré, but is also sometimes named Florimund.

Edward Colins (Prince Eric):

It is theorized by historians that Hans Christian Andersen, the author of The Little Mermaid, based the story on his unrequited love for a man named Edvard Collin.

Rielle Sidon (Ariel):

Sidon is short for Poseidon, Greek god of the sea.

Horatio Crustacea (Sebastian):

In the Octavinelle chapter, there is mention of a commemoration picture of a court musician named Horatio in the Museum.

Crabs belong to the aquatic group Crustacea.

Breaker Guppy (Flounder):

Originally, Ariel was supposed to have a pet dolphin named Breaker, who was eventually replaced by Flounder.

Ariel mockingly calls Flounder a “guppy”.

Bête Villeneuve (Beast):

Bête is French for beast.

Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve was the original author of Beauty and the Beast.

Beau Belmont (Belle):

Both “Belle” and “Beau” are French words for beauty.

Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont is the author of the second and more famous version of Beauty and the Beast, although I changed Beaumont to Belmont because Beau Beaumont sounds repetitive and Belmont has “Belle” in it.

Jean Candélabre (Lumiere):

Jean Cocteau was the director of the 1946 film Beauty and the Beast, which was one of the inspirations for the Disney version.

Candélabre is French for Candelabra.

Domo Cocteau (Cogsworth):

Cogsworth is the majordomo of the Beast’s castle.

Jean Cocteau was the director of the 1946 film Beauty and the Beast, which was one of the inspirations for the Disney version.

Badr Al-Asim (Jasmine):

Badroulbadour is the original name of the princess from Aladdin.

Mustaph Shahrzad (Aladdin):

In the original story, Aladdin’s father is a tailor named Mustapha.

Aladdin is part of the collection 1001 Nights, which is narrated by the queen Scheherazade, sometimes spelled Shahrzad.

Jinn Djinn “JinJin” (Genie):

The Arabic word for genie is “Jinn”, sometimes romanized as Djinn.

Chase Emeralda (Tiana):

Tiana was inspired by the famous chef Leah Chase.

The Princess and the Frog is partially inspired by the book The Frog Princess, where the princess is named Emeralda.

Heinrich Eisen (Naveen):

The story of the Frog Prince is also sometimes called “Iron Henry”.

Eisen is German for iron.

Maddy Pouffe (Lottie):

Maddy doesn’t actually mean anything, Lottie just kinda looks like a “Maddy”

Pouffe is derived from “poof” and “La Bouff”, Lottie’s surname.

Mei (RSA MC):

Mei alludes to the word “me” just like Yuu alludes to the word “you”.

Perralt (RSA Grim)

Grim alludes to the fairytale authors The Brothers Grimm, and Perralt alludes to another fairytale author called Charles Perrault.

Rampion Bellflower (Rapunzel):

Rapunzel is actually the name of a plant, whose other name is rampion bellflower.

Hua Ming (Mulan):

In the original story, Mulan’s surname is “Hua”.

Ming starts with an M and rhymes with Ping, Mulan’s male disguise.

Po Waialiki (Moana):

In old drafts of Moana, Te Ka’s name was “Te Po”.

In old drafts, Moana’s last name was Waialiki.

Magnus O’Whisp (Merida):

Magnus alludes to Merida’s horse, Angus, and starts with an M.

O’Whisp alludes to the Will O’ the Wisps from Brave.

Kai Snow (Elsa):

Elsa is based on the character Kai from The Snow Queen, who is taken away by the Snow Queen and whom Gerda has to save.

Gerda Snow (Anna):

Gerda is the protagonist of The Snow Queen and goes on a journey to save her best friend Kai from the clutches of the Snow Queen.

Robber Reyne (Kristoff):

Kristoff is based of the Robber Girl from The Snow Queen.

“Reyne” alludes to “rein”.

Roi Heart (King of Hearts):

Roi is French for king.

Kore Despoina (Persephone):

Sometimes Persephone is named “Kore” meaning “maiden”.

Another alternate name of Persephone is “Despoina” meaning “the mistress”. Also, in an ancient Arcadian cult dedicated to Demeter and Persephone, they were collectively referred to as the Despoinai, the mistresses.

Ceres Despoina (Demeter):

Persephone’s mother was Demeter, whose Roman name was Ceres.

In an ancient Arcadian cult dedicated to Demeter and Persephone, they were collectively referred to as the Desponai, the mistresses.

Saturn Shroud (Kronos):

In Greek mythology, Hades’ father was Kronos, king of the titans, whose Roman name was Saturn.

Opal Shroud (Rhea):

In Greek mythology, Hades’ mother was Rhea, queen of the titans, whose Roman name was Ops.

Carabosse Draconia (Malleus’ grandmother):

In Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty, the evil fairy is named Carabosse.

Snowdrop Rosehearts (White Queen/Riddle’s dad):

Alice has a cat named Snowdrop.