Fairy Tales For Sale by Rosamunde Lee

Author:Rosamunde Lee [Lee, Rosamunde]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-21T04:00:00+00:00

Sun, Shadow and Storm

In this humorous contemporary tale, a Lost Elf Prince is invited back home but with conditions.

It is said that the old King of Elfland faded away, or passed on to another realm, or saw something that caught his fancy and that he deemed better than sitting on a throne and ruling his people, and so he left and was not seen again. Which of these assertions was the truth or how many of these excuses were really the case, no one knew. All that was known was that the seat of glory made of the oldest of trees, a silver-barked immensity with roots that dug down and down to the heart of the world, remained empty long enough for someone to take notice(a few hundred years at best guess). It was then decided by the elder elves, who were very old indeed, that a new king should be crowned and take his seat on the throne.

It was known that the old king and queen of Elfland once had a son. A great and shining babe he was said to have been (though no one had seen him) with arms plump as sugar plums and smooth as oiled dough. It was agreed by all that he would have to do. It was decided over a few years and many long murmurings, for the Elvish race hurries at nothing, that the young man should be found and informed and the stars consulted for his choice of wife since no king of Elfland can take his throne without a Queen upon his knee.

The elves are not like men. And though men tell tales of elves, they get them wrong more than right and shine a better light on themselves than they do on the elves. People say that elves steal their children and whisk them away to Elfland to play with them and dote on them as if they were glimmering toys. This is as far from the truth as the truth is from a liar’s tongue. No. Elves do not love children. That is why they call them changelings. They are growing things and elves live long and do not change. There is nothing that makes an Elf more uncomfortable than watching something age. The elves are free and tall and proud and nothing do they hate more than doting on that which is helpless, pathetic and mewling.

It was no different some ages ago, when the queen of Elfland had grown big in the belly, to her shame, and changed as it is the burden of her sex to change. She had run and hidden in a forest of men as is an elf maiden’s way. Modestly, she kept herself well-hidden from the eyes of her people, not wanting to offend them. There she gave birth to a son amongst roots and vines, henbane and doll’s eyes and May apples. She saw he was a bonny child, a mirror of his father and herself, and that was the

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