Nov 12

The Frog and His Princess (Part 1)

One not so special morning, because really all mornings were the same to him, Prince Harold awoke especially late. He slowly climbed out of bed, put on his robe, and began sauntering through the castle halls as if he already owned the place. Prince Harold had the rugged girlish looks of any prince charming—he had sandy blonde hair that he spent hours sculpting each morning and the big brown eyes of a dog. He was about to enter the kitchen when a scullery maid, carrying a tray of tea to the queen's drawing room, came around the corner a little too quickly. The two collided and were both, royal and servant alike, scalded by the hot tea.

“You moron!” Shouted the prince. “What were you thinking, spilling tea on me? Don't look at me like that; you should have seen me coming and gotten out of my way. Why didn't you get out of my way? Why? Answer me, you fool!”

The poor scullery maid was scared out of her wits and could nothing but run off to the pantry in tears.

The prince laughed a cackling, menacing laugh. “Stupid girl. Now I can eat my breakfast in peace. Cook!”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Where is my breakfast?” the prince barked.

“Sir, I'm afraid you've missed breakfast. The eggs are quite gone and your dear mother's just sent Nathan into the forest with the leftover biscuits to fee the birds and fairies.”

“The birds and the fairies,” grumbled the prince. “When I rule this kingdom, no bird or fairy shall ever eat before my royal self! Birds and fairies. Humph. Who ever heard of such lowly creatures?”

The cook, ignoring the prince's rant, retreated to the pantry to console the scullery maid, Cindy, and soon sent her off with a fresh batch of tea. Harold left the kitchen in a wild rage, not knowing what or whom to take his anger out on. He eventually singled out Cindy as the cause of his immediate troubles and went tearing through the servants' quarters in search of her room. Upon entering it he looked about the room for something to destroy, but could find nothing of value—until he saw a fairy out of the corner of his eye. This particular fairy was named Columbine Iceglitter and was a common fairy, unable to cast spells. She wore a green skirt of tulip petals and had the translucent wings of a dragonfly. She was Cindy's fairy godmother and lived in her room. The prince pounced on her, but as Columbine was an excellent flier, he only managed to catch the tip of her wing, which he promptly tore off. The injured Columbine quickly flew into her little house that sat atop Cindy's wardrobe where the prince could not reach her.

Harold left the room even more frustrated than he had entered and sulkily stomped his way through the castle. When he reached the parlor where the King and Queen were having tea he burst through the double doors and proclaimed, “When I am king there shall be no fairies!” The King and Queen were heartbroken at this utterance, but were unable to persuade the prince to see fairies in a different light. Word quickly spread throughout the kingdom that the prince would banish all fairies immediately after his coronation, which was bad enough, but worse was their reaction to his treatment of Columbine. Had Harold known what was about to unfold, perhaps he would have paid the birds and fairies a little more respect. He never could understand why his parents, the rulers of the whole land, demonstrated such high allegiance to such small subjects.

One day, about a week later, following much debate in the fairy community about what was to be done with the prince, a prominent fairy named Juniper Elfglow was assigned the task of flying to the castle to confer with Columbine about the best solution to their problem.

At first glance Juniper resembled any other fairy. She was about as tall as a maple leaf, wore a dress of black feathers and pink rose petals, and had icy blue butterfly wings. Except at the first signs of autumn, when the leaves begin to change. The blazing red, pumpkin orange and golden yellows somehow transformed her. Her dress became as icy and blue as her wings which in turn became the delicate green wings of a cicada. It was at this time that she was able to exactly match the cicada's high-pitched droning sounds. And it was from this sound that Juniper drew her power. She was a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable and lived in the woods that lay on the outskirts of the kingdom.

When Juniper arrived at the castle, her first order of business was to assess the damage done to Columbine's wing. Luckily, it was only broken off about halfway up and the stem was still intact. Cindy watched wide-eyed as the enchanting Juniper diagnosed her friend.

“Don't worry dear, fairy wings always grow back,” Columbine assured Cindy. “I'll be as good as new in a couple of weeks. Why don't you tell Juniper about the way Harold treated you.”

When Juniper heard this tale, she grew furious. She and Columbine quickly concocted the perfect punishment for the prince—they would turn him into a creature that was small, seemingly unimportant, and often treated just as he had treated Columbine and poor Cindy—a frog.

As Juniper was flying back to her home in the forest, she saw the first hint of a red leaf and a green tint began to spread from the tips of her wings.

Two weeks later, the leaves were in full bloom. Juniper came to the castle in search of the prince. She had no trouble finding him because she could easily hear his haughty tones bellowing through the halls. She found him in a heated argument with his manservant, Heinrich. The two were quarreling over the prince's recent arrogance in dealing with a neighboring kingdom. The King and Queen were away on business and Harold was left to govern in their absence.

“They never should have come to me for help in the first place. If they wanted to eat, they should have grown their own food.”

“But sir,” Heinrich pleaded. “The drought ruined their crop and we have an abundance of grain. We could easily fee all their people and all of our own and still have plenty to spare.”

“I don't care about their people. My people grew that grain for me and I intend to keep every single stalk of it!”

Juniper had heard enough. Now fully transformed, she began to rub her wings together. The prince turned in annoyance, covered his ears and began to howl. The sound grew louder and louder until it echoed many decibels higher than the prince's wails.

“I Juniper Elfglow, bringer of justice to the vulnerable, turn thee prince into a frog and banish you to the spring in the wood where you will abide until such a time that you learn to have compassion on those less powerful than you. This time will be marked when some princess should take you out of the spring, and let you eat from her plate, and sleep upon her bed for three nights.”

To Heinrich's horror, the prince's ears immediately began to shrink and his eyes grew squinty. His whole body turned a slimy shade of green. He tried to protest, but his mouth had already broadened and his tongue had grown long, pointy and sticky. When he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was a feeble CROAK. And with a flicker of his tongue he vanished to the spring. Until such a time that a princess should fulfill the fairy's demands and break the curse.