A fairy tale

I don’t have a title for this one yet and, for that matter, it’s not edited yet. But I have this section about writing here on Whitney Baker Creations and I guess I should put something up.

We used a deck of Once Upon A Time cards and the Once Upon A Time Writer’s Handbook. It’s a fun and interesting process. Not everything gels into a complete story (beginning, middle, end, cohesion) but this one did mostly.

Once upon a time there were some kids, a boy and a girl, who played in a forest that had a river. The boy was not handsome. In fact, most called him ugly. Yet the girl didn’t mind, and being young, quickly adapted to her companion’s odd looks. They played happily by the river and in the trees and had many adventures together.

Unbeknownst to them, Death also hung out in the forest. He watched the ugly boy and the pretty girl play and became enamored with the girl, because she was so accepting of the ugly boy. Although Death was also known as the Evil Faerie Undead Witch King of the forest, he thought of himself as a loving and kind person and perhaps the girl child would see past his scary visage and accept him as well.
The boy and girl grew to a certain age – the one where their parents told them it was no longer acceptable for a boy and a girl to be playing alone together. The girl now spent her time in the village across the river, learning girl things, such as how to do quadratic equations and apply that to sewing three-dimensional objects that were later stuffed with the finest wool and sold at the local market and the kingdom market. The boy now spent his time learning how to be a leader, for he was the son of the king, and even an ugly son is still a son and he would inherit the kingdom some day.
Time passed. Death grew lonely. His kids didn’t come play in the forest. But that of course didn’t stop him from doing his job, as the Evil Faerie Undead Witch King, which included scaring villagers who came into the forest and ruining their days. Death thought of going across the river to visit the girl. He even stuck his big toe into the water, but as soon as he did, he started to disintegrate. Death, in his guise of the Evil Faerie Undead Witch King, could not cross water.

The day came when the boy, now prince, had to find a wife. His father wanted him to find a wife while the father still lived to ensure that the kingdom would continue on even though the prospects of the prince finding a wife who wasn’t money and fame hungry and loved the ugly young man were slim. After a lot of interviews, the king gave up and told his son he had to find his own bride. Of course the prince thought of the girl he used to play with in the forest. But, having been rejected multiple times by other more eligible (in terms of wealth and prestige) women, he had doubts.
He went to the kingdom astrologer for help. The kingdom astrologer read the prince’s star chart and said, “You’ll have to become a beast before anyone will marry you.” To which the prince said, “Have you looked at me lately?” The astrologer shrugged.
The prince went to a local fortune teller. She examined his palm and traced his lifeline and then consulted the tea leaves of the not-so-yummy tea she’d just made for him. “I see a beast and death. You will have to defeat death to get your wish.” To which the prince said, “Nuts.” The fortune teller nodded wisely and suggested he take some time off to reflect before heading off to face death.
So the prince went to spend some time on his father’s river barge.
Meanwhile…

Meanwhile the girl, now a young woman, was having a frustrating day. She’d applied for a job as a design engineer at a prestigious company that had a contract to make all of the uniforms for the kingdom employees. The job included designing new armor for the army, better sails for the navy, and wings for the air force. When she told her parents that she’d applied for this job, they were upset. Didn’t she like working for the family plushy toy making business? Her father thought he’d leave the business to her when it came time to retire. But Dad, she said, I want to use my skills. He told her she could use her skills in the job she had and, in fact was. Her mother chimed in and asked, what about marriage? having a family? That is the proper thing for a girl your age to do. To which she replied, “Proper-smopper. Why can’t I have both?”
So pondering this problem, she went to her interview. The man giving her the interview was one of the king’s counselors. A handsome man with lots of influence and money. He hardly paid attention to what her qualifications were and only asked a few technical questions. He said he would give her the job if she would marry him. Surprised and a not a little creeped out, she said she’d think about it.
Then, back at her job, the wool supplier, a nice-looking man with soulful eyes and a crocked smile, asked if she’d like to talk about formalizing a relationship. He’d be the primary provider of wool and cloth for her company if she’d do him the honor of marrying him. He also mentioned that her father had blessed this idea. The girl was furious – not with the wool supplier – but with her father. She mastered her anger and said, “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
As was her habit when upset, she went down to the river and watched the water, the boats floating by, and the dark wood on the other side. She recalled her childhood playmate and wondered what had happened to him. A short while later, a fancy barge floated up. She recognized the royal family crest. She watched it float past and then land at a dock. A man jumped out to tie it up. He was tall, lanky, and obviously strong. He had crazy, wind-blown hair the color of the sunset. She moved closer to see if anyone from the royal family would be getting off and wondered where they’d be going in the village. The man from the barge turned and she saw his face.
It was twisted, as if someone had taken a molded clay face and turned it. One eye was slightly higher than the other, the nose, which should have been angular, was flattened. A purple birthmark ran from a corner of his mouth to his chin, giving the illusion of drool or blood. As the villagers said, “It was a face that only a blind pig could love.”
“Fenris?” She asked, startled, using the childhood nickname she’d given her friend.
“Nova? Is that you?”
And so the childhood friends were reunited. He invited her on to his barge.
After the obligatory catching up questions – how are you? what have you been up to? What the hell – you’re the prince? – they sat on the deck and looked at each other in wonder.
“So,” the prince started to say at the same time that the girl said, “Ah,”
The prince gestured for her to speak first, but she said, “No, you tell me, your highness.”
“First off, please don’t call me that. Second, as you probably know, I’m in search of a wife. Are you married?”
“Ha! Funny you should ask that. No. I’m not married.”
“Good.”
She pondered that answer for a moment. “Why is it good?”
“I have thought of you every day for the past ten years. I realized, just recently, that was because I’m in love with you.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she smiled.
“How’d you like to get married and be princess?”
She got up and tugged at her soot-black braids. “What is it with people and getting married? So I’m 20. Who cares? Why do I have to be married?”
“Uh, because people are age are supposed to get married?”
“Why can’t I be an engineer and make things?”
“Can’t you do both? I mean, if you want. You could be a princess engineer.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Sorry Fenris, I’m just not… I’ve missed you too, but I can’t marry you. It was good to see you and all that. Good luck with the wife hunt.” She climbed off the barge and went home to hide under the covers. It just wasn’t her day.

The prince scratched his head and watched her walk away. ‘Too ugly even for her,’ he thought. He watched the light fade from the water of the river as the sun set and pondered drowning himself like a bag of rats.

Night reached out of the dark forest to cover the river and the village beyond and eventually up to the King’s house. The prince watched it and then resumed his moody contemplation of the forest. He recalled playing there, one warm muggy afternoon with Nova. They’d paddled across the river on the sly – because neither of them were supposed to be hanging out in the dark forest, even if it technically belonged to the prince’s father – and ventured in to a grassy knoll where they played mancala and tic tac toe, using sticks and pebbles, and talked about their dreams. It got so hot that day, the prince remembered pulling off his shoes and tunic and jumping into the river. Nova said “Ha!” and shuffled off her shoes and jumped in also. An old man, wearing a hood and holding a staff, had run out of the forest and screaming, “Don’t get in the water – you’ll drown!”
Nova had looked at the prince and winked and then dunked under the water. The old man had a fit. Finally she surfaced, laughing.
The old man asked them to get out of the water. He handed them some embroidered hand towels to dry off with and offered them cookies. Now everyone knew now to eat anything offered by strangers, especially in the forest. But Nova silently challenged the prince to see if he’d do it. So the prince took a bite of the cookie and wow – to this day – he remembered the lovely chocolate. Nova laughed again and followed suit. The old man smiled.
After that, they’d spend their afternoons following the old man around and laughing at his fears and accepting his cookies. They figured he was just a lonely old man.
Perhaps, thought the prince, I should go find the old man. He seemed like a good listener. Maybe he’d help me.

So the prince left his barge where it was, put on an old tunic, and swam over to the forest to find the old man and ask his advice.
To his amazement, the old man waited for him to get out of the water. In the moonlight, the old man looked just as he had ten years before.
“Fenris, is it?” The old man asked. “What can I do for you?”
So the prince related his tale of woe and longing. The old man considered this for a moment.
“I’ll help you, but only if you do me a favor.”
Well, everyone knew that you shouldn’t take that deal – especially if you’re in the dark forest with a strange old man under a full moon. The prince said, “Sure. If you can make me handsome enough that Nova will marry me, I’ll do you a favor.”
The old man grinned. “Good. My favor is this – bring me your beloved so that I may see her again. She hasn’t been to the dark forest for ten years and I miss her. Then I will make you handsome.”
“Deal.” The prince shook the old man’s hand and as he did, he noticed the old man’s hand felt like dry brittle grass. Still holding old man’s hand, he looked at his face. It was a bleached skull with blazing eyes. The prince snatched his hand back and the old man looked like an old man.
“Okay see ya,” the prince said and swam back across the water as fast as he could.
He spent the rest of the night debating.

In the morning he went to the village market. He’d never been to Nova’s house but he knew she worked in the market. He finally found the stall of plushy toy seller. There he found Nova, an older lady, an older gentleman, a wool merchant (from the smell of him), and one of his father’s counselors.
“Counselor Freebie, what are you doing here?” he asked.
“Oh, your highness,” The counselor said, bowing. “I’m hear to fetch my wife.”
“No you’re not. You’re here to steal my wife,” the wool merchant said.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said the older man – Nova’s father the prince guessed. “There’s no need to argue. As I told you, the wool merchant and I have an agreement. Nova will be his wife. I am sorry, counselor.”
“But I am the counselor of the defense forces. I am more important than this sheep seller. Nova shall be my wife.”
“But an agreement…”
“Howard, just a moment…” Nova’s mother got into the argument.
“Um,” the prince said. They ignored him.
He looked at Nova, who rolled her eyes. He pointed to the next stall and she slipped away to meet him.
“So, wanna escape to the forest with me?”
“Yes. Yes I do.”
So they left and no one noticed their going.

The prince and the girl walked along the village side of the river, leaving behind the houses and shops and small bustle of the afternoon. The prince decided he’d just keep his lips sealed on the subject of marriage until after he became handsome. He could see the stress flow of the girl as they walked and he admired her resilience.
They reached the spot where they used to swim across the river as kids. The prince considered the girl’s tight fitting gray dress and white multi-pocketed apron and thought about swimming.
As he opened his mouth to speak, the girl said, “I’m not swimming across.”
“I was just about to suggest that we take the barge.”
“Uh huh, right.”
So they returned upriver to the dock and boarded the barge.
Shaking off whatever had been on her mind, she asked the prince many questions about the barge as it was no average barge. It had all the fanciness one might expect as a royal vehicle. The prince explained the new lodestone system. A barge could float downstream with the river’s current but to go upstream, it required a tow line and an aurochs. With the new lodestone system, especially in the populated areas of the kingdom that were on the river, it could be drawn by the power of the stone in relation to the stones set in the bank. He pointed the top of a stone wall that had been built between the water and the land. She could see the black lodestones set into amongst the other gray stones.
He pulled out a pair of lodestones and demonstrated their ability to attract and repel.
“Magical,” she said.

They floated down and across the river to the shore of the dark wood. Here the prince jumped off and tied the somewhat cumbersome barge to a tree. The girl jumped off before he could assist her, and together they found a mossy rock to sit on. They talked of inconsequential items for a while until the prince asked, “How did you meet the counselor?”
She explained.
“What a slime ball. I had no idea. I apologize on behalf of the Counsel and the armed forces. You should not have to deal with such–” He tried to come up with a good word.
“Bullshit?”
“Unprofessional bullshit.”
They laughed.
“And the sheep guy, what was his story?”
She got up and paced.
“Ugh – my father, bless him and I love him dearly, decided he needed to sweeten a deal with the wool supplier by offering me up as a prize. I am not a prize.”
‘I’d prize you,’ he thought, but said “You’re as pretty as a prize, but no. You’re not a thing, you’re a person and I think you should decide if and when and who you want to marry.”
She paused mid stride and turned to him. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for my outburst the other evening. I am under duress to find a bride and of course I thought of you but I didn’t know your situation.”
“And I appreciate that. And thank you for the kind offer.”
He had a brief moment that she’d still accept, but she didn’t. So he went on to say, “Maybe I need to seek a bride from outside of the kingdom.”
“Like a mail-order bride?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“And she’ll be gorgeous and petite and have flowing gold hair and a big set of…”
“Nah, you know that’s not my type.”
“How do I know – it’s been years since I’ve seen you.”
“I haven’t changed that much.”
“Well, she’d still see your face–”
“I could wear a mask.”
“–and not your soul. Would you want to wear a mask full time?”
He shrugged.
“That’s not much of a life.”
They looked at each other for a moment in silence.
“Maybe you can woo her with your magic barge,” the girl suggested, turning to admire the craft.
“Ha.”

Unbeknownst to the pair, the Evil Faerie Undead Witch King watched them from behind a large tree. The girl had turned into a woman, he noted with delight. He listened to their chatter for a while and decided he’d better get out there to stop the flirting.
He stepped from behind the tree and said, “Is that my little Novanna and the valiant Prince Wolfstone?”
Nova gave a glad cry and rushed over. The prince stood and offered him a fixed smile.
Ah yes, Death thought, good timing.

“We should have a picnic,” Nova suggested. “Just as we used to.”
The old man smiled his crooked smile and gestured his gnarly hand.
“Under this tree? Yes, a moonlight picnic. But we’ve no food.” He directed this last at the prince, who nodded and kept his mouth shut.
Nova also look at the prince expectantly.
“I think I might have some crackers and a half-full bottle of port. Maybe, Nova, if you’re willing, you could take the barge back across the river and get some food. I’ve money.”
“But…”
“I can keep the old man company.”
“You’d trust me with your magic barge?”
The prince smiled at this. “Of course. Just steer it toward the other side and then flip the lever when you get close to the bank.”
She agreed and got on the barge. He tossed her his money pouch and pushed the barge into the river, saying, “Just yell if you have troubles. I’ll swim over.”
She acknowledged this with a wave and the current pulled the barge away downstream into the last rays of the setting sun.
The prince sloshed out of the water and back to the old man. Together they watched the barge make it to the other shore and then move upstream against the current.
“Such a pretty woman she’s turned in to, so full of life.”
The prince nodded and as soon as the barge was out of sight, he said,
“Yeah okay. You’ve seen her – now make me handsome.”
The old man shook his head as if to say ‘oh the folly of youth,’ but his eyes glowed and he seemed pleased.
“Ditch your clothing, my lad, and gaze at the moon.” The prince looked at the rising moon. A haze shimmered around him, making everything blurry and then very bright. Every bone in his body exploded in pain and he fell to his knees. His skin burned and he cried out, looking at the old man – who was no longer an old man but skeleton wearing a billowing robe of swirling purple and green. The bleached skull with burning eyes laughed at him.
The prince’s scream turned into a howl. He stopped, stunned and looked at his body. No longer human but wolf.
“A very handsome wolf for Wolfstone,” the skeleton said. “A no one to comfort poor Nova but me.” As the skeleton said that, it transformed back into the old man.
“Run along now. Scat!” He waved his walking stick at the wolf. The wolf, scenting death, ran into the dark forest.

Steering the barge and having it move under the magic power of the lodestones up current made Nova grin. She felt empowered and laughed when she came to the dock and managed to secure the barge. Women, in general, were not given the opportunity to operate complex machines – although the barge hardly seemed complex. Her sewing machine, powered by pumping a foot pedal, had more moving parts.
Speaking of sewing, she wondered if she’d get any grief from her parents for skipping out on work early. She returned to the village market, noting the change over from the daytime sellers to the evening sellers. More alcohol, less textiles filled the market place. People lingered by open stalls, browsing in a slower pace than in the daytime. Sellers lit lanterns as the failing light darkened the street.
Her stall was closed up, so she went to the apartment she shared with her parents. She wanted a shawl in case she became too cold at the moonlight picnic. She was having a moonlight picnic – that was almost as exciting as getting to control the barge.
Her mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands. “You’re home early. What’s the occasion?”
“I’m going out.”
Her mother got excited about this. “On a date?”
“No, a picnic.”
“A picnic at night? That’s odd.”
Nova sighed, her hand on the railing of the steps leading up to her room.
“A moonlight picnic by the river.”
“Sounds romantic. Are you sure its not a date?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Who are you going with? The wool merchant? The king’s counselor?”
“Fenris.”
Her mother’s face fell. “That kid? I thought his parents sold him to the circus.”
“Oh mother, really.” Nova blew a strand of hair out of her eyes.
“Well, you know, he’s just so funny looking. When did he show up?”
“I ran into him the other day.”
“Does he have a job?”
Is being prince considered a job? Nova wondered.
“Yes. He works with the government.”
“Really?” Her mom seemed more interested.
“Really. Mom, I’ve gotta run or I’ll miss the moon rise.”
“Well – you should take a chaperone. Maybe your father…” But Nova had run upstairs and grabbed her shawl and run back down. She fled out the door, which had been opened by her father. She paused to kiss his cheek and then continued out before anyone could stop her. She heard him ask, “Where’s she off to?”
“She’s having a moonlight picnic with Fenris.”
“That kid? I thought his parents sold him to the circus.”
Nova rounded the corner and didn’t hear the rest of the conversation.

Nova breezed through the night market, picking up sandwiches and a bottle of root beer. She hadn’t had root beer since the last time she and Fenris had had a picnic. She wondered if the old man liked it.
The barge remained where she’d parked it. A group of kids gathered around the foot of the dock, admiring the gleaming hull reflected in the lantern light.
“Hey lady – is that your barge?” A boy asked.
Another said, “Nah, that’s the royal barge.”
“Ha,” she said, passing through them, “No.”
“Are you steeling it?”
She flashed a grin back at the girl who asked. “Yep.”
The kid who identified the royal emblem said, “I’m calling my dad. He’s a guard. She shouldn’t be touching the royal barge.”
Another kid said, “Holy hollyhocks! She’s stealing the barge.”
She undid the ropes, got on the barge, and used the pole – as she’d seen Fenris do – to push off from the dock. As the heavy craft slowly slid into the flow of the river, which pulled her downstream and away from the chatter of the children and the faint whistle of a guard.
She steered the barge across the river, angling for somewhere close to the picnic spot. She didn’t see the old man or Fenris on the riverbank and hoped one of them was waiting to help her secure the barge.
It bumped against the bank and slowed. She called out for help, but no one came. Slightly irritated, she grabbed the tow line and jumped to the bank. She found a sturdy tree and tied the barge up.
“Fenris? Old man?” She called out, hiking back up the bank to the mossy rock. She knew the old man had a name, Thana something, but she couldn’t recall it. She called out again.
The moonlight showed her a dark forest and no friends. She poked around a little. No notes, no indication that something had…then she found a pile of clothes, which looked suspiciously like what Fenris had been wearing.
“Oh no,” she said, “He needed something and swam back across the river.”
She went to the water and looked. She couldn’t tell if he was across the river or not. A panic gripped her when she thought of the things that could have happened – drowning, wild forest creatures, the mythical undead evil faerie witch king, flying monkeys. She calmed herself down after a moment. He probably just swam across and the old man went home because she’d spent too much time in the village. He’d find her tomorrow and explain.
She turned to go back to the barge and stopped short at the sound of an eerie howl.

She heard a crack, like a whip snapping, and a yipe of an animal being injured. A voice said, “Out of my way, you mangy cur.” And a man stepped out into the clearing. He held up a lantern.
“Oh there you are, my dear. I mean, Nova, you made it.” The voice suddenly sounded like Fenris. Nova stepped closer. He had Fenris’ height, weight, and coloring, but something was off. He even wore Fenris’ clothes, which her mind boggled at.
“Fenris?”
“Yeah?”
“What happened to your face?”
He smiled and the smile, usually puckered and strange with the birthmark at the side of his mouth, beamed out straight and alluring. “Do you like my new face?”
“What the hell?”
“The old man introduced me to the faerie king and the faerie king fixed my face. Am I handsome?”
“Yes you are.” She admitted it. He did look very handsome, his streaky sunset hair and his bi-colored eyes reflecting the lantern light. But something still seemed odd.
“Did you bring food? I’m starved,” He said and produced a blanket seemingly out of nowhere to carpet the ground in front of the mossy rock.
“Yeah,” she said, feeling rather stunned. She walked to the barge and realized she hadn’t tied up both ends, so the back end of the barge had floated out into the current.
“Can you help me with the barge?” She asked.
He joined her at the bank and shook his head. “I don’t want to get wet in case the spell wears off. But I’ll catch the rope if you toss it to me.”
That faerie king messed with Fenris’ mind, she thought. He loved getting into the water. But she shrugged and splashed into the water and climbed up on the bow. Finding the rope at the stern, she tossed it to him and he easily pulled the barge in and tied it off. Showing off his muscles, she thought. What the hell is wrong with him?
She grabbed the sack of food and drink and jumped from the bow to the bank, noting a pair of glowing eyes watching her from deeper into the woods. She shivered.
“I got you root beer,” she said, holding up the bottle.
He scrunched his face up. “I was hoping for something more suitable for celebration, like wine or champagne.”
“Huh.” Fenris always celebrated with root beer. He loved root beer. But that’d been ten years ago, so maybe his tastes had changed. “You said you had a bottle of port on the barge. Shall I get it?”
“No, don’t bother. Having you here is celebration enough.” She let that slide but heard a faint growl coming from the woods.
They set out the food and started to eat. Fenris talked and talked and talked, telling her stories of the interesting flowers he’d found in the wood that only open up at night, of the silver fish who fly when the moonlight hits the river water, and of the faerie king who wandered throughout the dark forest in search of friends.
“He sounds very lonely,” she said.
“It is, indeed it is. You’ve such a kind heart, Novanna.” And he reached over to cup her face. She looked into his eyes, which seemed like looking into black pits. As he leaned in to kiss her, her heart hammered with excitement but her mind screamed that something just wasn’t right. She heard a loud growl and saw a blur of fur and fangs as it hit Fenris, knocking him back.
A magnificent wolf, with big bushy tail and fur the color of flickering flames, stood with its sharp claws on Fenris’ chest and its teeth barred, dripping spittle onto Fenris’ clothes. Nova scrambled up and away, looking for something, a branch or something, to get the wolf away from the man. The closest thing was the bottle of root beer. She shook it up and sprayed the pair down. The wolf turned its head and gave her a look that, in a human, would have meant “what the hell?” Fenris cried out in disgust, his form flickering from man to a skeleton and back.
Nova backed further away.
“Gah!” the man said, pushing the wolf off and disappearing in a swirl of green and purple.
“Holy Hollyhocks!” Nova swore. The wolf shook itself off and turned to look at her. She backed up further and almost tripped over the pile of Fenris’ clothes. The wolf cocked its head to the side and then sat and started to lick its paws and wipe its face.
She held up the tunic, her mind running with the possibilities. She didn’t see any blood stains and everything seemed to have been folded neatly. Could Fenris have run into the mythical faerie king? Not just the faerie king, but the mythical evil undead faerie witch king – whom she had almost kissed.
“Gah,” she said.
The wolf looked up at her from where it had started to lick the remnants of root beer flowing out of the fallen bottle.
“Wolf,” she said, “You saved me. I thank you.” She bowed to it.
The wolf swirled its big bushy tail around in a circle, clearly excited and happy. She felt no fear of the handsome animal, but she approached cautiously.
“Wanna sandwich?” she asked, offering it a ham on rye. It sat and thumped its tail and gave her a wolfy smile.

She sat on the blanket and pulled out the sandwiches from her bag. She handed one to the wolf, who sat next to her. It wolfed – ha – it down. She sighed.
“The past two days have been very strange,” she said to herself as much as to the wolf, who lay down next to her. She took a bite of her sandwich, suddenly not very hungry. “I’ve applied for a job, been asked to marry three times, driven – or is it sailed? – a barge, and discovered the truth of the existence of the evil undead faerie witch king. It’s definitely strange.”
She tossed the rest of her sandwich toward the river. “Do you want the other one?”
The wolf looked away, so she got up and placed the sandwich on the mossy rock. As she and Fenris had done in the past, she said, “Take this offering O spirits of the forest and give us your good will.” She bowed and sat back on the blanket, her back to the forest. She didn’t see the skeletal hand reach out and take the sandwich.
The wolf thumped its tail.
“The marriage proposals were totally unexpected and mostly unwanted. Fenris’ had been the worst – sweetest and most logical but totally bad timing.”
The wolf whined a little.
“I mean, give a girl a chance to get used to seeing you again – right? And now he’s gone.” The wolf snuggled closer, leaning on her flank. She ran her hands through its soft fur.
“You are a handsome wolf. I wish…” The wolf thumped its tail again. “I wish I’d said yes to Fenris. Not because he’s gone now, but of all the men I could marry – he’s the one. I’d marry him. And now–”
The wolf jumped up and ran around in a circle. It did a play bow and then yipped and raced over to Fenris’ clothing. It grabbed the tunic and tossed it in the air with its mouth, fluffing the tunic up.
“Hey!” She said, getting up.
The wolf tossed the tunic again and darted under the falling fabric. It stuck its head into the neck and its front feet into the arms. Then it stood on its hind legs and yipped at her. She laughed.
“You silly wolf,” she said, coming closer to it as it dropped down onto all four legs. She was about to ask why it had dressed itself in Fenris’ tunic when she noticed its bi-colored eyes.
“Wait a minute. Maybe you’re not a wolf.”
The wolf yipped and stood up on its hind legs again.
“The evil undead faerie witch king turned you into a wolf?”
The wolf growled. She agreed with it, but the wolf continued to growl, looking past her. She turned and saw the old man.
“Thank you for the sandwich, my dear. You were always so respectful.”
“You’re welcome, old– Holy Hollyhocks! You’re the evil undead faerie witch king!”
He smiled and morphed into his skeleton form. Nova let out a squeak of surprise and the wolf got in front of her, growling through barred teeth.
“Seriously, wolf-boy, I’ve spared your life. Don’t tempt me now.”
The skeleton waved its bony hand and the wolf landed in the water.
“Now my dear, don’t let this form upset you. I…”
Nova didn’t pay attention to what the evil being had to say, she watched the water. Finally the wolf’s head broke the surface and it started to swim back to the bank. It dragged itself up in its wet tunic, with difficulty, on the grass.
“Oh for the love of butterflies,” the old man said, now back in his old man guise. “That tunic is ridiculous.” He snapped his fingers and the tunic disappeared. The wolf shook itself off.
“As I was saying, Novanna dear, I wish you would consider me…” the old man gestured to himself. His shape reformed into that of a man with rich dark skin and soulful brown eyes and a slim physique. “as your friend, as someone who loves you, as husband material.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“You want to marry me?”
“Yes.”
The wolf started to growl again but the man raised a finger in warning.
Nova quelled the automatic and insulting reply and forced herself to think.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said to give herself more time. She looked across the river. A bunch of lights moved about on the bank; probably guards looking for the prince’s stolen barge. Would the arrest her if she showed up without the prince or with a wolf instead of a prince? Obviously the spell didn’t break when Fenris got in the water.
She turned to the handsome man beside her and said, “It is kind of sudden. Perhaps you could tell me more of yourself, so we can get to know each other better.”
The man smiled, his white teeth almost glowing in the moonlight. “What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with your name. The old man told us his name was Thana–”
“Thanatos. It means Death.”
Death, she thought, oh shit. We’ve really stepped in it now. She glanced at the wolf, who slunk closer, its belly to the ground.
“Death. Wow. So in addition to being the evil undead faerie witch king, you’re Death – as in the harvester of souls and ender of suffering?”
“Yep.”
“And you want to marry me?”
“Yes, dear lady. I wish to marry you.”
She shook her head. “Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful and kind and I’m lonely.”
Not, she thought, because you love me. Interesting.
“Well, what would happen to me – a mortal, marrying Death?”
He pondered that for a moment. “I suppose you would become Death also.”
“There’s more than one?”
“Sure. I have many siblings. Death is everywhere. We are legion.”
“But I’m not ready to die.”
“No one ever really is.”
The wolf whined softly, but the man didn’t take notice. He glanced at the lights across the water. “What’s going on over there?”
“Guards probably. Coming to find the prince or at least his magic barge.”
The man spared a look for the barge and then looked back at Nova. “Let them come. I will end their interfering lives.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Of course, because you are kind and beautiful. But perhaps it is their time.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, there’s a spreadsheet. But I don’t want to talk about that. What else do you want to know?”
“Why are you both Death and the evil undead faerie witch king?”
“Those are my aspects.”
“Aspects?” she said, noting that the wolf had crawled past them and now stood pointing like a hunting dog at the barge. She couldn’t grasp what it was trying to tell her.
“Yes. Parts of my job.”
“But what do they look like? I mean, you’re very handsome in this form. What does evil look like?”
His laughter, rich and deep, echoed off the water. “Oh, Novanna. You know what evil looks like. Besides, evil is in the eye of the viewer.”
“Okay. But undead? Is that your skeleton form?”
“Yes.”
“Show me, please?” So the man transformed into the skeleton with the burning eyes. The visage gave her the shivers, but also an idea. She spared a quick glance at the wolf and a short nod. He wanted her to get the old man – it was most comfortable to think of him as that – on to the barge and over the water.
“And faerie? Why faerie?”
He suddenly had gossamer butterfly wings sprouting from his shoulders.
“I also have duties in the faerie realm. They are much smaller though,” he said, shrinking down to the size of her foot for a moment. He returned to his normal size.
“Can you fly?”
“For short distances.”
“Could you fly across the river?”
“Oh, no. That’s my sister’s territory. She’s a fanatic for the rules.”
“There are rules?”
He nodded. “The spreadsheet I mentioned. It’s a time table for harvesting souls and, unless a person gets there early, she sticks to it. I’ve more of a random way of managing my quota.”
“You have a quota?”
“Oh yes. Don’t you – in your job?”
“Well, yes.”
He spread his hand to indicate his “job” was the same.
“And your witch form?”
“Witch king, probably hyphenated. Another aspect. There’s a cult of death-worshiping witches deep in the forest.” He gestured toward the dark forest. “I’m their leader.”
He stood and transformed into a tall dark figure, a skeleton, wearing a cloak of swirling green and purple – literally swirling with the colors moving independently like mists caught in a fan – and a cowl pulled up. Nothing – just creepy darkness and a sense of doom – could be seen in the cowl. On top of the cowl, growing out of it, a spiky crown that looked like it had been used to spear something bloody.
Nova cried out in fear and scrambled away.
“No need to fear me, my dear,” the witch king said in an echoing voice.
Nova tried to get a hold of herself. She managed a nod.
The witch king morphed into the old man.
“What do you look like normally?” she asked, gathering up the blanket and her bag and walking toward the barge. He followed her.
“I can look like whatever you want me to.” He changed himself to look like handsome Fenris.
“No. I mean, when no one else is around, what do you look like?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling sorry for him. She reminded herself that she had to get rid of the old man in order to save Fenris. She climbed on the barge, saying “Before I can even consider marrying you, you have to meet my parents.”
The old man stood on the bank, looking up at her.
“Why?”
“Because it’s polite and respectful. If you had a daughter, would you want her to run off and marry someone without you meeting that person?” Nova made sure her wording did not imply that she would marry this creature.
“You are so considerate,” he said and joined her on the barge.
As she pushed the barge away from the bank, she said “My mother is going to thrilled at the idea of my marrying a king, which is better than a prince or a king’s counselor, or a wool merchant.” Her voice sounded false to her.
The old man stared at the water between him and then bank and said absently, “I didn’t think you cared about those things.”
Nova watched the wolf jump into the water and swim after the barge. She sighed. She felt bad about the fib she’d generated. She didn’t actually want to hurt the old man, because he’d been kind to her in the past.
“Is Death immortal?” She asked.
“It’s a constant, certainly. If I were to die, I’d be reassigned to another area and become whatever aspect was needed of me. I was a man once, you know, before becoming Death.”
“I had no idea.”
He looked at the water again.
“Mr. Thanatos, I’m sorry.”
He looked at her, his eyes large.
“This isn’t a magic barge is it?”
“No.”
As the current dragged them away from the bank, Death – in his aspect of the evil undead faerie witch king – started to shrivel.
“You should marry Fenris,” he said right before he shriveled into a small ball that made a strange reverberating moaning sound that ended in a pop.

Nova stared at the spot where the evil undead faerie witch king been and shook her head. The undead aspect had been the key, for everyone knew that the undead cannot cross over water. She looked out at the river just in time to see the wolf’s head disappear under the water.
“No!”
A moment later, Fenris’ head popped up. He swam over and crawled up on the barge’s stern, naked.
She turned away.
“You’ve seen me naked before,” he said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a towel.
“You were eight or something. Besides, I’m not supposed to see you like that until our wedding night.”
“Who says we’re getting married?”
That stopped her short.
“You turned me down.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to marry a king rather than a prince?”
“That was–”
“I’m not sure my father wants to marry again. If you married him, you’d be my mother and that’d just be weird.”
Nova turned to look at her friend. His familiar, beloved, yet still ugly face looked stern.
“You left me, as a wolf, in the dark forest and ran off with my royal barge with another man.”
“But, but…”
“Huh, I don’t know if I can trust you,” he said, wrapping the towel around his waist and sitting down next to the tiller.
“Fenris!”
He pulled her down onto his lap.
“Nova!” he replied, and kissed her cheek. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes and don’t ask me again.” She tried to sound stern but ended up laughing. His laughter mixed with hers.

So he forgave her and they were married. The end.