[Fic] "Bluebell" -- original
Dec. 29th, 2005 06:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edenfallingThis is the story I wrote as a holiday present a few years ago. It's called "Bluebell," because it's about a girl named Bluebell, and titles have never been my strong point. It's kind of a backwards retelling of one version of The Firebird -- not the version with Koschei the Deathless and the stone statues, but the one where the prince (who's the youngest of three sons, naturally) has to find three treasures with the aid of a talking fox, and he keeps screwing up, because otherwise there wouldn't be much of a story. I like the story, but certain aspects of it began to bug me on a closer reading. I retold it to get those issues clear on paper.
So here we go. Please forgive the excessive parentheses; this was a stylistic experiment as well as my first serious attempt at something light and semi-fluffy. I should warn you, though, that I failed to some extent in my quest for good cheer -- there are some potentially disquieting parts of the story, and the philosophical questions (i.e., the problem of free will and a discussion of the ethics of assissted suicide) that crept in behind the scenes never really get resolved.
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Bluebell
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Chapter One: Florissant
Once upon a time in the kingdom of Florissant, a princess was born with a destiny. In those days, destinies were more formal than today: a glittering scroll appeared at a child's naming, telling her future in great detail and paying no mind to anyone's wishes. Farmers' sons were sent to enchanted lands across the sea, though they wanted to grow wheat and look after their parents. Merchants' daughters were torn from their families and thrust into midnight balls, though they wanted to keep accounts and raise children. Nobody knew who sent the scrolls, but now and again they appeared (to everyone's dismay).
Bluebell's destiny (all the princesses of Florissant were named after flowers; it was traditional) was to live in an ivory tower from her twelfth birthday until a prince traded her to the king of Murlee for the horse that could outrun the wind. (The horse, mind you, had not yet been born, but destinies were not to be argued with.)
King Dunstan and Queen Eleanor of Florissant were naturally upset, and they refused to tell Bluebell of her destiny. For her first seven years, she didn't know she had one. And for a time, the king and queen thought they might have sidestepped the destiny.
After all, a princess (no matter how beautiful) whose kingdom is only a small mountain valley is not generally considered a fair trade for a horse that can outrun the wind, particularly not by the king of Murlee, who had refined tastes and an eye for a bargain.
But on Bluebell's seventh birthday, while she was in the stables admiring the plow horses, the riding horses, and her father's one warhorse, a stable boy asked her if she would take a horse to the ivory tower.
"What ivory tower?" she asked, but he didn't know. She decided to ask her parents. She found them in the room behind the great hall (which was mostly a glorified dining room), talking about taxes with their ministers, and waited outside the door until they finished.
"What are you doing here, Bluebell?" her father asked after the ministers had filed out. He was very tall and imposing and talked in a deep, rumbling voice (he was the king, and kings must be impressive) but he was also her father, so Bluebell didn't mind.
"I want to know about the ivory tower," she said.
The king and queen looked at each other. Queen Eleanor was short and round, but still pretty (queens do not have to be so impressive as kings, which is a great relief to most of them) and she was much beloved by all of Florissant, including her five children. "Oh dear," she said. "We had hoped you wouldn't have to know about that."
"I want to know," said Bluebell.
The king and queen exchanged another look. Dunstan sighed. "Bluebell, you're the princess of the ivory tower," he said. "You'll live in the ivory tower on Lookfar Mountain from your twelfth birthday until a prince dredges our moat and lines it with stones in one night. He'll be able to open the door, and he'll take you to Murlee to trade for the horse that can outrun the wind (which will doubtless have been born by then)."
Bluebell considered this. "What if I won't go?"
"Then a plague or famine will fall on Florissant, or a magical creature will kidnap you and drag you there, I suppose," said Eleanor. "That's the way these things usually work. But we'll visit you whenever we can. If you take a rope, we should be able to send things up to a window even if we can't open the door."
Dunstan hugged Bluebell. "We hoped the destiny was a mistake," he said. "We didn't want to upset you, so we didn't tell you before. We didn't want to lose you. We love you very much." Eleanor hugged her too.
Bluebell let her parents hold her for a minute, then asked, "May I be alone now?"
"Yes," said her father, and kissed her. He and Eleanor left the room.
Bluebell went outside and sat by the moat for a while, arms wrapped around her knees. She watched frogs jumping in the shallows, a thin blue heron swaying gently in the cattails and rushes, a family of ducks paddling in the green water, and dragonflies humming lazily through the afternoon heat. After a time, the heron stabbed downwards and rose with a frog in its beak. Bluebell watched as it flew west, toward Murlee. Then she went in.
At dinner she laughed with her brothers and sisters and fed her beans to the dogs, which the king and queen pretended not to notice. They were relieved she was happy. They put her to bed with their other children, kissed her, told her a bed-time story, and wished her sweet dreams.
Bluebell smiled at her parents, but she stared into the darkness a long time before she slept.
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Chapter Two: The Princess of the Ivory Tower
The week before her twelfth birthday, Bluebell packed various useful and comforting things (clothes, books, rope, candles, brushes, a cup, and her rag doll, to name a few) into two large baskets and said goodbye to her friends. On her birthday she rode east toward Lookfar Mountain, with the king and queen, her three brothers, her four sisters, and various family friends. The people watched in silence. Nobody expected to see her again.
The ivory tower stood in a clearing halfway up the mountain. It was two hundred feet tall, very pale and thin. There was only one door, which had no lock and no doorknob. Inside, a spiral staircase led upwards into the tower, lit only by tiny windows every ten feet. They were far too small for a person to slip through.
Bluebell hugged her family. "Goodbye," she said. "Please do visit."
"Of course we'll visit," said Eleanor. "It's most likely an enchanted tower and will provide food (we won't leave until you check the pantry and tell us if we'll have to bring you food and such-like) but enchantments aren't much company. And we'll miss you. I'm sure we'll be back within the week." Dunstan nodded.
Bluebell smiled. She lifted her baskets (which were surprisingly light, to hold all she would want for the next several years) and walked through the door. It slammed behind her with a boom and a loud click, as of a bolt sliding home. "Well then," she said to the darkness of the stairway. "I hope this prince doesn't take too long."
The ivory tower held three rooms, each occupying an entire floor. The first was almost halfway up the tower, eighty feet at least. That was the kitchen. The pantry was indeed enchanted and would provide any food or drink asked for, so long as it was in season. The room also held a large wooden tub for baths and laundry.
The second floor was the bedroom and privy, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet high. The sheets hadn't been washed in years, and the privy stank. Bluebell dropped her baskets on the floor, shut the privy door, and held her nose as she walked up the stairs.
The third floor, at the top of the tower, had wide windows on two sides. The room held a small desk and chair, a loom, an easel, and several embroidery frames, some of which still held work from the last princess to live in the tower. (She had not been handy with a needle.)
Bluebell found the tower comfortable enough and soon settled into a routine. Each morning she rose with the sun and ran up and down the stairs five times to keep from getting lazy. Then she ate, bathed, and began her day's work.
Sometimes she sewed. Sometimes she painted or embroidered. Sometimes she read novels or studied. (She was particularly fond of astronomy and spent hours cataloging stars and tracking planets.) She had lunch at noon, then took a brief nap. After dinner she said her prayers, watched the sky, and slept.
One morning in June, shortly after her fifteenth birthday (for which her entire family visited and had a picnic lunch in the clearing), Bluebell noticed a fox sitting under her workroom window. It occurred to her that she had seen the fox before and that it did not act like a proper fox. She leaned out of the window and studied it.
"It's generally considered impolite to stare," the fox said, and coughed dryly.
"Aah!" cried Bluebell, jumping backwards and tripping over her chair. She scrambled to her feet and rushed back to the window. The fox (which was thin, reddish-brown, and generally nondescript) still sat beneath the tower. "Did you talk?" she asked. "You did, didn't you. I heard you quite distinctly."
The fox twitched its tail. "Yes. I'm a magical fox."
"That was fairly obvious," said Bluebell. "Normal foxes don't talk."
"This is true. But then, you never can tell what humans know, if you'll pardon my saying so. It's best to be safe and tell them everything, at least at first." The fox shrugged (which looked exceedingly odd) and twitched its ears. "You're the princess of the ivory tower?"
"I should think that was also obvious. Who are you and why do you care?"
"Ah. Why do I care? That is the question, isn't it." The fox rubbed its ear with a paw. "It was nice to meet you, Princess. Have a good afternoon." It walked out of the clearing, twitching its tail.
"Wait!" said Bluebell. "You can't say that and leave! Come back here and explain yourself."
The fox turned. "Why?"
"Why what?" Bluebell asked. "Must you be so mysterious? It's very irritating."
"I suppose not, but it amuses me," said the fox. "I'm the fox who helps princes find the firebird. I've been doing that for centuries. They never listen to my advice (though I suppose they can't help being foolish; it's their destiny) and they end up with complications, including the princess of the ivory tower. That would be you."
"So you know a way to dredge and pave my father's moat in one night?"
The fox tilted its ears. "Really? Dredging a moat? Usually it's moving a mountain someone finds inconvenient. Your father sounds much more sensible than most kings I've dealt with. What kingdom did you say you came from?"
"I didn't say, but I'm from Florissant. It's half a day west of here, down in the valley where the Laughing River runs. There's a trail from when my family visits me." Bluebell pointed the direction to the fox. "I think it's lovely, but it's not a very big kingdom. We haven't any mountains."
"I see," said the fox. "Your father wants his moat dredged and paved and your family visits you -- I think I should have a look at this Florissant. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Princess."
"You may call me Bluebell," said Bluebell. "Please don't steal chickens while you visit Florissant, and give my love to my family if you see them."
"I doubt I will," said the fox.
Bluebell shrugged. "In that case I wish you a good journey. Will you visit again?"
"I might," said the fox. "Good afternoon, Bluebell." It bowed and trotted out of the clearing.
"Goodbye, fox," Bluebell said.
She picked up her fallen chair and rested her head in her hands, thinking about the future. Would it be against her destiny to make the prince rescue her from the king of Murlee? It probably would be. Bother. She didn't want to live with the king of Murlee. He had buried six wives and driven his only son into exile, and no one had ever seen his daughters.
Drat the fox! She'd almost managed to forget about the prince, the king of Murlee, and the horse that could outrun the wind (which had finally been born last winter) and now she couldn't think of anything else.
Bluebell did not sleep well that night.
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Chapter Three: The Prince Arrives
The fox returned now and again, always mysterious about where it had been. It brought riddles, gossip, and tales of far kingdoms like Alandia, Hy Brasil, Carillon, and Thule, and listened to news of Florissant and Bluebell's family. She looked forward to its visits and put the prince and king out of her mind as best she could.
The summer after her seventeenth birthday, Bluebell received a letter from her parents. A messenger shouted at her window before dawn until she ran up to her workroom (the only room in the tower with windows large enough to fit much of anything through) and let down a basket for the scroll. She then sent down some breakfast for the messenger, as he had to wait for her response.
The letter said:
Dear Daughter,
It has come to our Attention that a foreign Prince has recently arrived at the Court of the King of Murlee, seeking to acquire the Horse that can outrun the Wind (a Singularly ugly Horse, I must tell you) and was Apprehended while attempting to Remove the Horse Unlawfully in the Night (he was Stealing it, Dear; your Father can say nothing straight, nor can he Spell, which is why I Copy this out for you).
However, he apparently convinced the King of Murlee of his general good Character (I shouldn't be at all Surprised; that King is a Scoundrel himself) and has been offered the Horse on Condition that he bring you, the beautiful Princess of the Ivory Tower (I always said you were Lovely, did I not, though I suppose no Good has come of it), to the King.
We expect the Prince in Florissant within the Week, and thought it Wise to send you Fair Warning (though I really don't See how he'll manage to clean the Moat after all these Years of letting it go to Muck; still Destiny is Not to be Argued with).
All our Love,
King Dunstan and Queen Eleanor
Bluebell sent several baskets of books, embroidery, and paintings home with the messenger, but her letter was short. It said:
Dear Father and Mother,
Thank you for your Warning and your Love. I continue Well and hope to return Home someday. Here are some of my Possessions, which I ask you to keep until my Return. I will leave more when I Depart. Give my Love to all.
Your loving Daughter,
Bluebell
Nine days thereafter, the prince appeared in the clearing beneath the ivory tower. He was handsome, with raven black hair, crystal blue eyes, and a clean face. He was also tall and strong. (Princes must be handsome so princesses can easily love them, and they must be tall and strong so they can become impressive kings when they are older.) The fox walked beside him. Bluebell watched from the shadows of her workroom window.
"Now what, fox?" the prince asked.
"Touch the door," said the fox. "It will open for you. Then go in and talk to the princess. I suggest you be polite." It looked up at the window and grinned. Bluebell waved. She drew the curtains and hurried down to the kitchen where she had gathered her baskets.
When the prince reached the kitchen, she curtsied. (She knew, you see, that it never hurts to be polite, even when you are convinced you will dislike a person.) The prince bowed uncertainly. "You are the princess of the ivory tower?" he asked.
Bluebell bit her tongue. "Yes, sir. I am Princess Bluebell of Florissant and I've lived here for five years. Have you come to let me out?"
The prince blinked. "I suppose so. I'm Prince Ivan of Tourmaline. It's a long way west of here. Shall we leave, my lady?"
"Yes, thank you. Please carry my baskets outside while I tidy the tower." The prince looked surprised, and then as if he wanted to protest, but he thought better of it. He picked up two baskets and walked down the stairs. Bluebell rushed upstairs, tidied her rooms, and closed the privy door. When she returned to the kitchen, the prince and the baskets were gone.
She packed bread, cheese, and some dried beef in a bag (she had noticed the prince had no food in his satchel) and walked slowly down the spiral stairs and into the morning sun. The door remained open behind her and the tower looked as it had five years before, when she entered. She felt tired.
"What now?" she asked.
"We go to Murlee," said the prince. "I'm supposed to trade you for the horse that can outrun the wind, which I need to trade in Athimand for the firebird, which I need to take home to inherit the kingdom and because it steals from my father's garden."
"Ah," said Bluebell. "I suppose we'd best be leaving, then. You can leave all but the small basket here; my family will send someone to fetch them."
The prince looked surprised again but he picked up the small basket (which held bowls, soap, a dress, and various other useful things for a journey). They walked off to the west, not speaking to each other. The fox followed.
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Chapter Four: The Horse That Could Outrun the Wind
When they reached Murlee a week later, Bluebell took the fox aside in the evening. "Can you get me out of Murlee after the trade? Because I think I found a loophole in my destiny. I get traded for the horse that can outrun the wind, but nothing says I have to stay here."
"Ah. Funny that you should ask," said the fox, looking as if it would rather not be having this conversation. "You see, it's the prince's destiny to bring home three treasures, not just the firebird. He has to bring you and the horse as well. You won't stay long in Murlee."
"I'm a treasure? Like a horse and a brainless bird?"
"In the eyes of destiny, yes. Firebird, horse, and princess: three rare, magical, or beautiful creatures. I don't think it's fair, but I'm only a fox."
"I see," said Bluebell. "Thank you, fox."
She wrapped herself in a blanket and lay down. The fox lay down beside her. "Go away," she said. "You won't help me. I don't want anything to do with you."
"Ah. My apologies." The fox walked away. Bluebell watched the stars turning in the sky for several hours before she slept.
The next day, the prince tried to talk to her after breakfast. "Don't worry about the king of Murlee, my lady," he said. "I won't let you stay there."
"If you say so." Bluebell took his bowl and turned away. He sighed and began packing the basket.
They reached the capitol of Murlee by mid-morning and walked through the city to the castle gates, which were gilded. "I have come with the princess of the ivory tower!" the prince cried. "Let me in." The gates creaked open and the three travelers walked into the castle.
The castle was very different from what Bluebell had expected. Her father's castle was simply a stone house, somewhat larger than other houses in Florissant, with a wall, a swampy moat, and a gate-tower. The king of Murlee, however, apparently thought a castle should be a hundred times larger than any house, should have walls and ceilings set with polished marble, mirrors, and gold, and any undecorated inch hung with brilliant cloth-of-gold tapestries or covered with gilded furniture. Bluebell found it rather gaudy and tasteless, though she had to admit it was impressive.
She and the prince walked through the castle to a great hall where the king of Murlee sat on his golden throne (which would have paid all the taxes of Florissant for seventeen years). "Wasteful," Bluebell muttered. The fox grinned at her.
The prince shrugged. "It's his land. We should at least be polite." He stepped forward and raised his voice. "Your Majesty, I have brought the princess of the ivory tower, to exchange for the horse that can outrun the wind." He bowed. Bluebell curtsied slightly (for the prince was correct; it never hurts to be polite, particularly before one knows a person).
The king of Murlee walked down the steps from his throne to look at Bluebell. He examined her hair, her face, her hands, her figure, and her feet. She held herself straight and refused to blink or flinch as he ran her hair through his fingers and caressed her cheek.
"Hmm," said the king. "She is hardly a traditional beauty. Still, she is unquestionably fair, and her eyes are truly enchanting." He turned to the prince. "She is a fair trade. You have earned the horse that can outrun the wind. Come to the stables.
"You stay here, girl," he said to Bluebell. "My servants will take you to a room. Give them your basket."
Bluebell curtsied deeply. "Thank you, my lord," she said, "but I should like to see the horse that can outrun the wind, and say farewell to the prince who brought me to you."
The king shrugged. "No matter," he said, and he walked out of the throne room, preceded by ten guards (who wore red-and-gold and carried spears). Bluebell, the prince, and the fox walked behind him, followed by ten more guards.
After passing through a maze of gilded, mirrored hallways, they came to the stables in the outer bailey. A thin man in a patched tunic rushed out and bowed.
"Have the horse saddled and brought to me," the king said. The man hurried into the stables and returned leading a singularly ugly horse (it was built for speed, you see, not beauty) wearing a tattered saddle. The king turned to the prince. "Here is the horse that can outrun the wind," he said. "Take it and leave my kingdom."
The prince bowed. "At once, your Majesty." He took the reins and mounted; the horse shivered and danced forward until it stood beside Bluebell.
"Farewell, my lady," said the prince, and held out his hand. She grasped it, thinking to say goodbye and leave later with the fox, but the prince yanked her up behind him and spurred the horse toward the gates.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked.
"Saving you! Hold on." The prince leaned forward and kicked the horse again.
"Stop them!" shouted the king of Murlee, but the horse could outrun the wind and flew through the gates long before the guards could close them. The prince guided the horse through the city and into the forest, putting the golden castle far behind them.
The horse ran west for hours, tireless, through fields and forests, until the prince decided they were safe. He reined in the horse, slid to the ground, and offered his hands to Bluebell. She slid down and leaned on him as her knees buckled (for the horse was no more comfortable to ride than any other, though it could outrun the wind).
"That was stealing," she said.
The prince looked at his boots. "I know. But you really didn't want to stay with the king of Murlee. I saw how he treats people when I was there before."
Bluebell glared at him. "You should have thought of that before you ignored the fox and involved me in your destiny. Then I wouldn't have had to worry about the king of Murlee in the first place. Go away and I'll make dinner."
The prince sighed, but he unsaddled and brushed the horse as she gathered wood and water, then walked away, leaving the horse tied to a bush. While she boiled soup, Bluebell fed the horse bits of bread. It ate eagerly.
She slept badly that night, and was woken near midnight by a strange crackling noise. At first she thought a wild beast was creeping outside the firelight, but a voice whispered, "It's only me. Go to sleep."
"Fox!" she said. "How did you get here?"
"I walked. It was a long, long way, and I'm tired. Go to sleep, Bluebell." The fox lay down beside her. She let it stay, and fell asleep smiling.
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Chapter Five: The Firebird
The journey to Athimand took only two days on the horse that could outrun the wind (which was, they discovered, fond of having its ears scratched). Bluebell held the fox in her arms so it wouldn't tire itself keeping up.
This time, after he announced himself, the prince rode through the castle gates and waited in the courtyard for the king of Athimand to come outside. (This was not, strictly speaking, rude; he simply couldn't bring the horse into the castle, and he didn't want to let such a valuable creature out of his sight. Besides, he knew the king wanted to see the horse.)
The king of Athimand was almost as ostentatious as the king of Murlee, only his castle was silver instead of gold, and he covered his walls with mosaics instead of tapestries. The marble courtyard was cold and full of echoes.
Presently the king descended the steps of his keep, flanked by twenty guards in blue-and-silver (who carried swords), and extended his arms to the prince. "You have brought me the horse that can outrun the wind! How extraordinary," he said, spreading his arms. His hands glittered with jewels. "I will have the firebird brought shortly. But tell me, my friend, who is the beautiful girl behind you?"
"This is the princess of the ivory tower. She's traveling with me." The prince slid off the horse and handed the reins to a guard. The king glanced curiously at the fox, which jumped to the ground and sniffed at the guard's feet.
The prince noticed the king's interest and said firmly, "The fox is the princess's pet. It isn't for sale." The king sighed.
Just then, a nervous man brought the firebird out of the keep in a silver cage, which he held gingerly. The bird blazed in all the colors of the rainbow, making the king's jewels look like worthless glass. Bluebell gasped in spite of herself.
"Ah, you admire my treasure, princess?" The king of Athimand smiled. "Be wary. The bird is wild and bites those who come too near. It is controlled only by spells I myself wove into the cage." The bird cowered as the king took the cage from the servant and handed it to the prince, who bowed.
"Take the horse to the stables after the princess dismounts," the king said to his guards. "I am eager to begin its training."
The guard holding the reins stepped forward and offered Bluebell his hand, but the prince touched his shoulder. "Allow me," he said. He walked to the horse, handed the firebird's cage to Bluebell, and quickly swung into the saddle.
"Thief!" cried the king. "Stop him!"
The guard lunged forward, but dropped both his sword and the reins when the fox bit his leg. The horse flew through the castle gates and the king of Athimand's angry screams faded swiftly in the distance.
That evening they stopped by the edge of a forest. Bluebell hung the firebird's cage from a branch while the prince unsaddled the horse. "Please fetch some wood," she said, not looking at him. He sighed and vanished into the trees.
She offered a slice of bread to the bird, which tore at it eagerly. "Poor thing. I'm not surprised you don't like people if you're always locked in a cage or under a spell. The king of Athimand seemed quite unpleasant."
The bird snapped at her.
She served their supper (thin beef soup) in silence, but after a while her curiosity overcame her. "What will happen when we reach Tourmaline?" she asked the prince.
He glanced at her, surprised. "My father will declare me his heir and disinherit my brothers, after he and my mother welcome me home," he said. "I don't know what he'll do with the horse and the firebird. He wanted to kill the bird for stealing his apples, but since it was under a spell he'll probably declare war on Athimand instead. He doesn't like thieves."
The prince shrugged. "My parents will like you. You remind me of my sister, Aurora, who married the king of Topaz. She stubborn too, and she likes horses."
"I see," said Bluebell. "Why didn't your brothers go fetch the firebird instead of you?"
"Oh, they started to, but they didn't get very far. My oldest brother, Lucian, went south instead of east and became a knight of the Emperor of Alandia. He married one of the Emperor's thirty-three daughters and is now fourteenth in line for the Diamond Throne.
"My middle brother, Cedric, went north and died in Thule. A messenger brought us his sword and a tale of how he killed a dragon. I don't believe a word of it (Cedric was a wonderful brother, but he was never handy with a sword) but it makes my parents happier. So the quest is just a formality; I'm the only son left to inherit at all."
"The quest wasn't your destiny?" Bluebell asked, puzzled.
"It might have been." The prince put his empty bowl on the ground and leaned back on his elbows. "We don't have much to do with destinies in Tourmaline, though I hear they're more common in the east. We believe in responsibility. Do you have a destiny, my lady?"
"I don't know. I did, but I think I've gone past it, and I don't know what to do anymore. I may be caught up in yours. The fox says you have one, you know." Bluebell picked up the bowls and spoons and rinsed them.
"I didn't, actually. It never told me," said the prince. "I wonder why?"
"I think it likes being mysterious."
The prince laughed. "This is true. Though I think, in my case, it has more to do with promises I broke by not following its advice with the bird and the horse. I have no idea why I broke them; it was quite unlike me. I promised it a favor to make up for my lapse, but I think it likes irritating me anyway." He paused, seeming to think deeply. Then, in an overly casual voice, he said, "If I may ask, my lady, what was your destiny?"
"Oh, to wait in the ivory tower until you traded me for the horse that can outrun the wind. It was rather lonely," Bluebell said slowly, expecting him to laugh.
He didn't, though. Instead, he answered pleasantly and they talked for another hour or so, telling each other of their homes and families. She was surprised that the prince no longer seemed as unpleasant as she remembered. She supposed it wasn't his fault she had been locked in the tower; he was no more responsible for his destiny than she for hers. And he had saved the horse from the king of Athimand, even if he did steal it.
"It's getting late, and we have to travel tomorrow," the prince said finally. "Goodnight, Bluebell."
"Goodnight, Ivan."
That night, the fox did not wake Bluebell when it crept into their camp. It lay down beside her and she smiled in her sleep.
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Chapter Six: Tourmaline
They rode slowly to Tourmaline, taking a week instead of a day, and let the fox walk. Prince Ivan and Bluebell talked every night and smiled more often. Occasionally he pointed out sights of his homeland. Bluebell commented politely; the fox kept its thoughts to itself.
They reached the king of Tourmaline's imposing castle at midmorning. "I've come home with the firebird," Ivan said to the four guards at the gate (who wore black-and-silver and carried pikes). "Please tell my father and ask him to meet me by the stables."
The guards bowed and one marched into the castle. Ivan directed the horse through the outer bailey to a cobblestone yard in front of a large stable, waving and greeting various people all the way. They smiled and cried his name, and shot curious looks at Bluebell and the fox.
"This is my home," Ivan said, gently halting the horse. "What do you think?"
"It seems much more friendly and normal than Athimand or Murlee," said Bluebell, "but still much larger and richer than my home. We haven't money to pay guards or pave courtyards." She handed the firebird's cage to Ivan after he dismounted. He set it on the ground and helped her off the horse.
"What happens now?"
"My father should come soon," said Ivan. A trumpet sounded from the keep. "Actually, here he comes now."
The king of Tourmaline (who had an impressively long white beard, though he was a bit stout) was preceded by a trumpeter and accompanied by various advisors and his queen (who was lovely, with black hair, red lips, and pale cheeks flushed from happiness). "Ivan!" the king said, and opened his arms. Ivan smiled and embraced his father.
"We missed you," said the queen, as she embraced her son and leaned her head on his shoulder. "The castle seemed very empty without you. Welcome home, Ivan."
"I see you brought more than the firebird," said the king, eyeing Bluebell, the horse, and the fox. "Who's the young lady? Should we expect any announcements?"
Ivan blushed. "I had some complications getting the firebird, Father," he said. "I had to fetch the horse that can outrun the wind to trade for the bird, and I had to fetch the princess of the ivory tower to trade for the horse.
"This is the princess, Bluebell of Florissant, and that's the horse that can outrun the wind. The fox (which is a magical fox) gave me advice (which I didn't follow nearly so much as I should have). It deserves a reward."
The fox looked uncomfortable and edged away. Bluebell grinned at it.
The queen coughed into her hand. "I see," she said. "Ah, but Ivan, if you'll pardon my question, how is it that the princess and the horse still accompany you, if you were supposed to trade them for the firebird?"
Ivan looked at his boots.
"I can explain that, your Majesty," said Bluebell, stepping forward. "The king of Murlee would have locked me in a room forever, but Prince Ivan saved me. The king of Athimand would have terribly mistreated the horse, but Prince Ivan saved it. He also saved the firebird, which has been bespelled for years.
"He was very brave and noble, and I'm grateful." Bluebell curtsied and stepped back to stand against the horse; it snorted and she scratched its ears. Ivan stared at her in disbelief.
"Harrumph." The king looked sternly at Bluebell and his son. "A most eloquent explanation, my lady, for which I thank you. For had I discovered Ivan to be a thief, I would have been forced to disinherit and banish him. No one is above the law, whatever those fools in Murlee and Athimand think."
There was a brief uncomfortable silence.
"Will you be staying with us, my dear?" the queen asked hastily, giving Bluebell a sympathetic look. "We would be most grateful for the company this winter, and perhaps beyond. The castle has become lonely with only one child left, and Ivan is grown now." She nudged her son in the ribs.
Ivan quickly stepped forward and offered Bluebell his hand. "Please stay, Bluebell. I would miss you if you left."
Bluebell looked at the cobblestones. "It's very kind of you to offer, but I should go home," she said. "My family misses me and I miss them. Besides, I'm only seventeen."
Ivan looked unhappy. "Are you sure you won't stay the winter?" he asked. "You could send your family a letter and go home in the spring."
"No, I want to go now, before winter. I miss Florissant." Bluebell rubbed her cheek. She would not embarrass herself by crying in front of strangers, or in front of Ivan. Especially not in front of Ivan's parents.
"Take the horse, then," said Ivan. "It's a long way to Florissant and you might not get there before the winter storms otherwise."
Bluebell looked up, surprised. "Oh, you don't need to do that!" she said. "I'm sure I'll manage by myself."
"No, take the horse. I have no right to keep it. Only..." Ivan flushed. "Only come visit me in the spring? Please? I'll miss you."
Bluebell studied him. He was very nice, once you got to know him, and he wasn't at all responsible for the circumstances in which they'd me. "All right," she said finally. "Yes. I'll visit you." She hugged him, very briefly, before stepping back. He looked stunned (for princes, like all young men, are never quite as self-assured as they would have the world believe) and very happy.
"Go in peace then, Princess Bluebell, and with our blessings," said the king, who had kept tactfully silent during the previous conversation.
"May the way be clear before you and the sun shine bright upon your journey," the queen added, smiling. She seemed to be stifling a dance of glee.
Bluebell clambered onto the horse, checked that her basket was still tied to the saddle, and looked down at Ivan. "Goodbye, Ivan."
"Goodbye, Bluebell," he said.
She kicked the horse gently and it trotted around the castle and out the gate; the fox followed. The guards saluted her and she waved to them, beaming.
As she rode down the hill, the sound of a thousand bells rose suddenly behind her. Turning, she saw the firebird hovering free over the castle, before it streaked south to the lands of the sun. Bluebell laughed in delight and kicked the horse into a gallop, letting the wind blow across her face.
She was free.
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Chapter Seven: A Peculiar Request
Six days later, Bluebell stopped near the border of Florissant, not wanting to arrive home in the middle of the night. She unsaddled and brushed the horse and heated a bit of thin soup for supper. The ancient pines around the clearing blocked her view of the stars, leaving the fire her only source of light. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the flames after eating, wondering what her family would say when she came home.
A noise jolted her from her daydreams and she looked around wildly. "Don't worry," said a familiar voice. "It's only me." The fox crept into the firelight.
Bluebell jumped up. "Fox!" she cried. "Where have you been? I thought you were following me when I left Tourmaline, but you were gone when I stopped that evening."
"I was taking care of various unimportant things. I came to see that you were home, and to ask a favor."
"I'll be home tomorrow morning. What favor?"
The fox looked away. "I want you to kill me," it muttered.
"What?"
The fox looked embarrassed. "I want you to kill me. That's all."
"That's all?" said Bluebell. "How could I kill you! You're my friend! I couldn't hurt you." Bluebell walked around the fire and knelt beside the fox. "Why do you want me to do something so awful?"
"Ah. That is, indeed, the question."
"Don't start that again. Answer me."
The fox sighed. "Bluebell, I'm the fox who helps princes find the firebird. I've done that for centuries. At the end of the quest, after they marry the princess, I go off to the mountains, live another twenty years, and wait for the whole business to begin again. Forever.
"I've asked several princes to kill me, but they refused. I stopped asking a long time ago. But I'm tired, and I want to stop." It looked at her. In the firelight, its eyes were very large and dark. "I want you to kill me."
Bluebell was silent for a while.
"Fox," she asked presently, "if you die, will that be the end of quests for the firebird, the horse that can outrun the wind, and the princess of the ivory tower?"
"I have no idea. I've never died before."
"Oh." Bluebell thought some more. "And what happens to you when you die? You're not a normal fox, after all."
"I don't think it matters much. A fox is a fox, and death is death."
"It matters to me. You're my friend."
They sat in silence for several minutes, not looking at each other. Bluebell wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the needle-covered earth. "What will you do if I won't?" she asked.
"I'll go live in the mountains until a new prince is born to find the firebird. Then I'll find the king who'll capture the bird, the king who'll own the horse, and the princess in the tower, so I know where to take the prince. When the bird steals fruit from his father, I'll wait for him to begin his quest and I'll stop him on the road to offer advice. When the quest is over, I'll wait in the mountains for the next prince. Again. Forever."
"Oh." Bluebell looked at her knees. "If you don't ask the princes anymore, why did you ask me?"
The fox looked away. "Because you were my friend," it said, then paused and shook its head. "No. This is not true. I asked because you changed things. You showed the prince he was a thief even though it wasn't his fault. You didn't love him at first sight, and you came home even though you started to like him. He gave you the horse and freed the firebird. None of those things ever happened before."
The fox coughed quietly into its paws. "And I thought if you changed all that, you might let me rest." It paused again. "I'm sorry. It was a terrible thing to ask."
It stood and walked into the pines.
"Fox, wait," said Bluebell. The fox turned; its eyes glittered from the shadows. "I don't know what to do. I want to help you, but I'm not a murderer. I don't want anyone else to be the princess of the ivory tower, even if it was all right for me in the end, but I can't kill you. And I don't even know that anything would change if you died. It might keep on, only with a different fox."
"This is true," said the fox. "I can't help you. You know what I want."
Bluebell hugged her knees fiercely, staring blankly into the fire. Finally, she looked into the fox's glittering eyes. "I can't. I can't kill you" she said. "It would feel like murder to me, and I can't convince myself that anything good would come of it. I'm sorry."
"I see. Goodbye, Bluebell."
"Goodbye, fox."
The fox walked slowly into the shadows beneath the pines. Bluebell felt tears on her face and rubbed at them with her sleeve. It was wrong to cry when a friend left. It cast bad luck on the journey.
"Fox," she called as it vanished into the dark, "fox, ask Ivan. He let the firebird go."
She couldn't tell if it heard.
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Chapter Eight: In Which Farewells Are Taken
The next morning, Bluebell rode into her father's castle over a newly paved moat (the water, however, was already becoming green again). In the stables she greeted her old friends, unsaddled the horse that could outrun the wind, and put it into a loose box with fresh water and grain. The stable master ran his hands admiringly over the horse's legs as she left and was far too preoccupied to tell anyone of her return.
Inspired by his lack of attention, Bluebell decided to surprise her parents. She sneaked into the castle, hushing servants all the way to her old room in the north wing (the castle had two wings, neither of which was particularly imposing) where she washed and changed into a clean dress. Feeling more herself, she went to find her father and mother.
King Dunstan and Queen Eleanor were in the room behind the great hall, once again discussing taxes with their ministers. This time, Bluebell opened the door. The ministers stared at her, shocked, and her parents rushed to hug her.
"Bluebell!" her father cried. "We didn't think you were coming home."
"We missed you so much," said her mother. "What happened with that horrible prince and the king of Murlee? How did you get away?"
Bluebell explained that Prince Ivan was really very nice once you got to know him and that he had rescued her from the king of Murlee (who was inarguably horrible). He had also kept the horse that could outrun the wind away from the unpleasant king of Athimand, and set the firebird free. She had promised to visit him in the spring and she wanted to bring him to Florissant for the summer, if nobody minded.
Nobody did mind, and come spring, Bluebell packed a basket (much larger than the one she had brought to Tourmaline the first time) and rode west on the horse that could outrun the wind (which she called Handsome, because it wasn't). Ivan was very glad to see her and his parents only hinted at marriage three times a day.
A week after she arrived, Bluebell and Ivan went for a walk in the woods. They talked of this and that, and after an hour, Bluebell asked him if he had seen the fox since she had left last autumn.
Ivan looked away. "Yes," he said finally. "I did see the fox again. Once. Why do you ask?"
Bluebell pulled her hand from Ivan's. "It came to me just before I reached home. It asked me to kill it. I told it to ask you."
"Ah."
They walked in silence for a minute, not looking at each other. The afternoon sun slanted golden-green through the trees, falling thinly to the ground. Birds flew between the branches, flitting away from the path, and the wind rustled gently through the young leaves. In the distance, a deer crashed through the underbrush.
"It asked me, too," said Ivan.
Bluebell stopped. "And did you?" she asked.
He looked at the ground and scuffed his boots through last year's dead leaves. "Yes."
"How could you?"
"I didn't have any choice!" said Ivan. "I promised the fox a favor after I'd ignored its advice with the firebird and the horse. It called in the favor and asked me to kill it."
Bluebell turned away. "You could have said no," she said.
Ivan seized her shoulders and tried to turn her to face him; Bluebell resisted. "No, I could not have said no! I broke my word to the fox. I broke my word to the kings of Murlee and Athimand. I know how horrible they were, but I gave my word. And I let you lie by implication to my father, to save my inheritance.
"I'm a thief and a liar and an oath-breaker many times over, and I am never going to break my word again." He lowered his voice. "It wanted to die so much. It cried, Bluebell. I didn't know foxes could cry."
Bluebell turned slightly. "How did you kill it?"
"A knife to the heart. It was as fast and clean a death as I could manage." He looked at his boots. "I buried it in the woods. I can take you there, if you'd like."
"I want to see the grave," said Bluebell.
Ivan dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Follow me," he said. They took the left fork in the branching path and walked several minutes without speaking.
"Here," said Ivan, stopping in front of an irregular granite slab. "Under there."
The stone was very stark and lonely, resting in a bed of brown leaves and needles with no bushes or flowers nearby. Ivan had scratched a rough picture of the fox's head onto a flat area of the rock.
Bluebell walked back along the path to a small clearing where daisies and thistles fought tiny pines and choking grasses for sunlight. She picked a handful of greenery and flowers. Ivan watched silently as she laid the flowers on the stone. "Goodbye, fox," she said. "Sleep well."
She rubbed her eyes and reached for Ivan. They held each other's hands tightly as they walked back to the castle in the fading afternoon sun.
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Chapter Nine: And Last
Bluebell and Ivan married the next spring, and when Ivan's father died they ruled Tourmaline wisely and well. They had two sons and two daughters who had no destinies, and when a glittering scroll arrived at their third daughter's naming, they burned it unopened, preferring not to know what it foretold. But destinies seemed rarer as the years went on. Handsome, (the horse that could once outrun the wind) became slow in its age, and the firebird was seldom seen, even in the distant south.
When their eldest son was eighteen, Bluebell and Ivan left him to manage Tourmaline while they visited family in Florissant. They spent a pleasant summer catching up on various relatives and old friends, but as the season drew to a close, Bluebell often stood on the balcony of their room, looking east to Lookfar Mountain.
Ivan asked her about this one evening.
"I wonder what became of the ivory tower," she said. "Did the destiny stop when the fox died, or is the tower still waiting for a new princess?"
"We can go look," said Ivan, crossing his arms over her chest and drawing her to him.
"I'm not sure I want to," said Bluebell. "It seems safer not to know."
"No, we should see for ourselves. Let's go tomorrow." Ivan hugged his wife tightly. "But now we should sleep."
Bluebell smiled, turning to kiss him. "This is true," she said, and they went inside.
The next morning they rode east with several of their nieces and nephews to search for the ivory tower, following the faint remnants of the trail Bluebell's family used to visit her, many years ago. But the trail ended in an empty clearing.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Ivan.
"Yes," said Bluebell. "I spent five years in that tower. I remember." But the clearing held no signs of a tower, not even a foundation. The nieces and nephews searched for several hours, and in various nearby clearings, in case Bluebell's memory was not as good as she thought, but they found nothing. By mid-afternoon they gave up and went home.
"What do you suppose happened to the tower?" Bluebell asked Ivan that evening. "Did it vanish when the fox died? Was it ever truly there? Or did it simply move elsewhere, waiting for a new princess and prince to go through the story again? Did we change anything at all?"
"I don't know," said Ivan. "I suppose it doesn't matter much in the end. The story worked out well enough for us, and it's out of our hands anyway. Go to sleep, Bluebell."
She shivered and clung tightly when he hugged her. He fell asleep holding her, but Bluebell stared into the dark a long time, remembering the fox and thinking about their third daughter and her unread scroll.
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The End
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I did post this story previously in a divided form, but it was always intended to be a single story (despite the 'chapter' divisions) and I have more captive readers now than I did a year and a half ago, and I wanted to give people a clear idea of what I do when I retell fairy tales, so... *grin*
So here we go. Please forgive the excessive parentheses; this was a stylistic experiment as well as my first serious attempt at something light and semi-fluffy. I should warn you, though, that I failed to some extent in my quest for good cheer -- there are some potentially disquieting parts of the story, and the philosophical questions (i.e., the problem of free will and a discussion of the ethics of assissted suicide) that crept in behind the scenes never really get resolved.
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Bluebell
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Chapter One: Florissant
Once upon a time in the kingdom of Florissant, a princess was born with a destiny. In those days, destinies were more formal than today: a glittering scroll appeared at a child's naming, telling her future in great detail and paying no mind to anyone's wishes. Farmers' sons were sent to enchanted lands across the sea, though they wanted to grow wheat and look after their parents. Merchants' daughters were torn from their families and thrust into midnight balls, though they wanted to keep accounts and raise children. Nobody knew who sent the scrolls, but now and again they appeared (to everyone's dismay).
Bluebell's destiny (all the princesses of Florissant were named after flowers; it was traditional) was to live in an ivory tower from her twelfth birthday until a prince traded her to the king of Murlee for the horse that could outrun the wind. (The horse, mind you, had not yet been born, but destinies were not to be argued with.)
King Dunstan and Queen Eleanor of Florissant were naturally upset, and they refused to tell Bluebell of her destiny. For her first seven years, she didn't know she had one. And for a time, the king and queen thought they might have sidestepped the destiny.
After all, a princess (no matter how beautiful) whose kingdom is only a small mountain valley is not generally considered a fair trade for a horse that can outrun the wind, particularly not by the king of Murlee, who had refined tastes and an eye for a bargain.
But on Bluebell's seventh birthday, while she was in the stables admiring the plow horses, the riding horses, and her father's one warhorse, a stable boy asked her if she would take a horse to the ivory tower.
"What ivory tower?" she asked, but he didn't know. She decided to ask her parents. She found them in the room behind the great hall (which was mostly a glorified dining room), talking about taxes with their ministers, and waited outside the door until they finished.
"What are you doing here, Bluebell?" her father asked after the ministers had filed out. He was very tall and imposing and talked in a deep, rumbling voice (he was the king, and kings must be impressive) but he was also her father, so Bluebell didn't mind.
"I want to know about the ivory tower," she said.
The king and queen looked at each other. Queen Eleanor was short and round, but still pretty (queens do not have to be so impressive as kings, which is a great relief to most of them) and she was much beloved by all of Florissant, including her five children. "Oh dear," she said. "We had hoped you wouldn't have to know about that."
"I want to know," said Bluebell.
The king and queen exchanged another look. Dunstan sighed. "Bluebell, you're the princess of the ivory tower," he said. "You'll live in the ivory tower on Lookfar Mountain from your twelfth birthday until a prince dredges our moat and lines it with stones in one night. He'll be able to open the door, and he'll take you to Murlee to trade for the horse that can outrun the wind (which will doubtless have been born by then)."
Bluebell considered this. "What if I won't go?"
"Then a plague or famine will fall on Florissant, or a magical creature will kidnap you and drag you there, I suppose," said Eleanor. "That's the way these things usually work. But we'll visit you whenever we can. If you take a rope, we should be able to send things up to a window even if we can't open the door."
Dunstan hugged Bluebell. "We hoped the destiny was a mistake," he said. "We didn't want to upset you, so we didn't tell you before. We didn't want to lose you. We love you very much." Eleanor hugged her too.
Bluebell let her parents hold her for a minute, then asked, "May I be alone now?"
"Yes," said her father, and kissed her. He and Eleanor left the room.
Bluebell went outside and sat by the moat for a while, arms wrapped around her knees. She watched frogs jumping in the shallows, a thin blue heron swaying gently in the cattails and rushes, a family of ducks paddling in the green water, and dragonflies humming lazily through the afternoon heat. After a time, the heron stabbed downwards and rose with a frog in its beak. Bluebell watched as it flew west, toward Murlee. Then she went in.
At dinner she laughed with her brothers and sisters and fed her beans to the dogs, which the king and queen pretended not to notice. They were relieved she was happy. They put her to bed with their other children, kissed her, told her a bed-time story, and wished her sweet dreams.
Bluebell smiled at her parents, but she stared into the darkness a long time before she slept.
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Chapter Two: The Princess of the Ivory Tower
The week before her twelfth birthday, Bluebell packed various useful and comforting things (clothes, books, rope, candles, brushes, a cup, and her rag doll, to name a few) into two large baskets and said goodbye to her friends. On her birthday she rode east toward Lookfar Mountain, with the king and queen, her three brothers, her four sisters, and various family friends. The people watched in silence. Nobody expected to see her again.
The ivory tower stood in a clearing halfway up the mountain. It was two hundred feet tall, very pale and thin. There was only one door, which had no lock and no doorknob. Inside, a spiral staircase led upwards into the tower, lit only by tiny windows every ten feet. They were far too small for a person to slip through.
Bluebell hugged her family. "Goodbye," she said. "Please do visit."
"Of course we'll visit," said Eleanor. "It's most likely an enchanted tower and will provide food (we won't leave until you check the pantry and tell us if we'll have to bring you food and such-like) but enchantments aren't much company. And we'll miss you. I'm sure we'll be back within the week." Dunstan nodded.
Bluebell smiled. She lifted her baskets (which were surprisingly light, to hold all she would want for the next several years) and walked through the door. It slammed behind her with a boom and a loud click, as of a bolt sliding home. "Well then," she said to the darkness of the stairway. "I hope this prince doesn't take too long."
The ivory tower held three rooms, each occupying an entire floor. The first was almost halfway up the tower, eighty feet at least. That was the kitchen. The pantry was indeed enchanted and would provide any food or drink asked for, so long as it was in season. The room also held a large wooden tub for baths and laundry.
The second floor was the bedroom and privy, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet high. The sheets hadn't been washed in years, and the privy stank. Bluebell dropped her baskets on the floor, shut the privy door, and held her nose as she walked up the stairs.
The third floor, at the top of the tower, had wide windows on two sides. The room held a small desk and chair, a loom, an easel, and several embroidery frames, some of which still held work from the last princess to live in the tower. (She had not been handy with a needle.)
Bluebell found the tower comfortable enough and soon settled into a routine. Each morning she rose with the sun and ran up and down the stairs five times to keep from getting lazy. Then she ate, bathed, and began her day's work.
Sometimes she sewed. Sometimes she painted or embroidered. Sometimes she read novels or studied. (She was particularly fond of astronomy and spent hours cataloging stars and tracking planets.) She had lunch at noon, then took a brief nap. After dinner she said her prayers, watched the sky, and slept.
One morning in June, shortly after her fifteenth birthday (for which her entire family visited and had a picnic lunch in the clearing), Bluebell noticed a fox sitting under her workroom window. It occurred to her that she had seen the fox before and that it did not act like a proper fox. She leaned out of the window and studied it.
"It's generally considered impolite to stare," the fox said, and coughed dryly.
"Aah!" cried Bluebell, jumping backwards and tripping over her chair. She scrambled to her feet and rushed back to the window. The fox (which was thin, reddish-brown, and generally nondescript) still sat beneath the tower. "Did you talk?" she asked. "You did, didn't you. I heard you quite distinctly."
The fox twitched its tail. "Yes. I'm a magical fox."
"That was fairly obvious," said Bluebell. "Normal foxes don't talk."
"This is true. But then, you never can tell what humans know, if you'll pardon my saying so. It's best to be safe and tell them everything, at least at first." The fox shrugged (which looked exceedingly odd) and twitched its ears. "You're the princess of the ivory tower?"
"I should think that was also obvious. Who are you and why do you care?"
"Ah. Why do I care? That is the question, isn't it." The fox rubbed its ear with a paw. "It was nice to meet you, Princess. Have a good afternoon." It walked out of the clearing, twitching its tail.
"Wait!" said Bluebell. "You can't say that and leave! Come back here and explain yourself."
The fox turned. "Why?"
"Why what?" Bluebell asked. "Must you be so mysterious? It's very irritating."
"I suppose not, but it amuses me," said the fox. "I'm the fox who helps princes find the firebird. I've been doing that for centuries. They never listen to my advice (though I suppose they can't help being foolish; it's their destiny) and they end up with complications, including the princess of the ivory tower. That would be you."
"So you know a way to dredge and pave my father's moat in one night?"
The fox tilted its ears. "Really? Dredging a moat? Usually it's moving a mountain someone finds inconvenient. Your father sounds much more sensible than most kings I've dealt with. What kingdom did you say you came from?"
"I didn't say, but I'm from Florissant. It's half a day west of here, down in the valley where the Laughing River runs. There's a trail from when my family visits me." Bluebell pointed the direction to the fox. "I think it's lovely, but it's not a very big kingdom. We haven't any mountains."
"I see," said the fox. "Your father wants his moat dredged and paved and your family visits you -- I think I should have a look at this Florissant. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Princess."
"You may call me Bluebell," said Bluebell. "Please don't steal chickens while you visit Florissant, and give my love to my family if you see them."
"I doubt I will," said the fox.
Bluebell shrugged. "In that case I wish you a good journey. Will you visit again?"
"I might," said the fox. "Good afternoon, Bluebell." It bowed and trotted out of the clearing.
"Goodbye, fox," Bluebell said.
She picked up her fallen chair and rested her head in her hands, thinking about the future. Would it be against her destiny to make the prince rescue her from the king of Murlee? It probably would be. Bother. She didn't want to live with the king of Murlee. He had buried six wives and driven his only son into exile, and no one had ever seen his daughters.
Drat the fox! She'd almost managed to forget about the prince, the king of Murlee, and the horse that could outrun the wind (which had finally been born last winter) and now she couldn't think of anything else.
Bluebell did not sleep well that night.
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Chapter Three: The Prince Arrives
The fox returned now and again, always mysterious about where it had been. It brought riddles, gossip, and tales of far kingdoms like Alandia, Hy Brasil, Carillon, and Thule, and listened to news of Florissant and Bluebell's family. She looked forward to its visits and put the prince and king out of her mind as best she could.
The summer after her seventeenth birthday, Bluebell received a letter from her parents. A messenger shouted at her window before dawn until she ran up to her workroom (the only room in the tower with windows large enough to fit much of anything through) and let down a basket for the scroll. She then sent down some breakfast for the messenger, as he had to wait for her response.
The letter said:
Dear Daughter,
It has come to our Attention that a foreign Prince has recently arrived at the Court of the King of Murlee, seeking to acquire the Horse that can outrun the Wind (a Singularly ugly Horse, I must tell you) and was Apprehended while attempting to Remove the Horse Unlawfully in the Night (he was Stealing it, Dear; your Father can say nothing straight, nor can he Spell, which is why I Copy this out for you).
However, he apparently convinced the King of Murlee of his general good Character (I shouldn't be at all Surprised; that King is a Scoundrel himself) and has been offered the Horse on Condition that he bring you, the beautiful Princess of the Ivory Tower (I always said you were Lovely, did I not, though I suppose no Good has come of it), to the King.
We expect the Prince in Florissant within the Week, and thought it Wise to send you Fair Warning (though I really don't See how he'll manage to clean the Moat after all these Years of letting it go to Muck; still Destiny is Not to be Argued with).
All our Love,
Bluebell sent several baskets of books, embroidery, and paintings home with the messenger, but her letter was short. It said:
Dear Father and Mother,
Thank you for your Warning and your Love. I continue Well and hope to return Home someday. Here are some of my Possessions, which I ask you to keep until my Return. I will leave more when I Depart. Give my Love to all.
Your loving Daughter,
Bluebell
Nine days thereafter, the prince appeared in the clearing beneath the ivory tower. He was handsome, with raven black hair, crystal blue eyes, and a clean face. He was also tall and strong. (Princes must be handsome so princesses can easily love them, and they must be tall and strong so they can become impressive kings when they are older.) The fox walked beside him. Bluebell watched from the shadows of her workroom window.
"Now what, fox?" the prince asked.
"Touch the door," said the fox. "It will open for you. Then go in and talk to the princess. I suggest you be polite." It looked up at the window and grinned. Bluebell waved. She drew the curtains and hurried down to the kitchen where she had gathered her baskets.
When the prince reached the kitchen, she curtsied. (She knew, you see, that it never hurts to be polite, even when you are convinced you will dislike a person.) The prince bowed uncertainly. "You are the princess of the ivory tower?" he asked.
Bluebell bit her tongue. "Yes, sir. I am Princess Bluebell of Florissant and I've lived here for five years. Have you come to let me out?"
The prince blinked. "I suppose so. I'm Prince Ivan of Tourmaline. It's a long way west of here. Shall we leave, my lady?"
"Yes, thank you. Please carry my baskets outside while I tidy the tower." The prince looked surprised, and then as if he wanted to protest, but he thought better of it. He picked up two baskets and walked down the stairs. Bluebell rushed upstairs, tidied her rooms, and closed the privy door. When she returned to the kitchen, the prince and the baskets were gone.
She packed bread, cheese, and some dried beef in a bag (she had noticed the prince had no food in his satchel) and walked slowly down the spiral stairs and into the morning sun. The door remained open behind her and the tower looked as it had five years before, when she entered. She felt tired.
"What now?" she asked.
"We go to Murlee," said the prince. "I'm supposed to trade you for the horse that can outrun the wind, which I need to trade in Athimand for the firebird, which I need to take home to inherit the kingdom and because it steals from my father's garden."
"Ah," said Bluebell. "I suppose we'd best be leaving, then. You can leave all but the small basket here; my family will send someone to fetch them."
The prince looked surprised again but he picked up the small basket (which held bowls, soap, a dress, and various other useful things for a journey). They walked off to the west, not speaking to each other. The fox followed.
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Chapter Four: The Horse That Could Outrun the Wind
When they reached Murlee a week later, Bluebell took the fox aside in the evening. "Can you get me out of Murlee after the trade? Because I think I found a loophole in my destiny. I get traded for the horse that can outrun the wind, but nothing says I have to stay here."
"Ah. Funny that you should ask," said the fox, looking as if it would rather not be having this conversation. "You see, it's the prince's destiny to bring home three treasures, not just the firebird. He has to bring you and the horse as well. You won't stay long in Murlee."
"I'm a treasure? Like a horse and a brainless bird?"
"In the eyes of destiny, yes. Firebird, horse, and princess: three rare, magical, or beautiful creatures. I don't think it's fair, but I'm only a fox."
"I see," said Bluebell. "Thank you, fox."
She wrapped herself in a blanket and lay down. The fox lay down beside her. "Go away," she said. "You won't help me. I don't want anything to do with you."
"Ah. My apologies." The fox walked away. Bluebell watched the stars turning in the sky for several hours before she slept.
The next day, the prince tried to talk to her after breakfast. "Don't worry about the king of Murlee, my lady," he said. "I won't let you stay there."
"If you say so." Bluebell took his bowl and turned away. He sighed and began packing the basket.
They reached the capitol of Murlee by mid-morning and walked through the city to the castle gates, which were gilded. "I have come with the princess of the ivory tower!" the prince cried. "Let me in." The gates creaked open and the three travelers walked into the castle.
The castle was very different from what Bluebell had expected. Her father's castle was simply a stone house, somewhat larger than other houses in Florissant, with a wall, a swampy moat, and a gate-tower. The king of Murlee, however, apparently thought a castle should be a hundred times larger than any house, should have walls and ceilings set with polished marble, mirrors, and gold, and any undecorated inch hung with brilliant cloth-of-gold tapestries or covered with gilded furniture. Bluebell found it rather gaudy and tasteless, though she had to admit it was impressive.
She and the prince walked through the castle to a great hall where the king of Murlee sat on his golden throne (which would have paid all the taxes of Florissant for seventeen years). "Wasteful," Bluebell muttered. The fox grinned at her.
The prince shrugged. "It's his land. We should at least be polite." He stepped forward and raised his voice. "Your Majesty, I have brought the princess of the ivory tower, to exchange for the horse that can outrun the wind." He bowed. Bluebell curtsied slightly (for the prince was correct; it never hurts to be polite, particularly before one knows a person).
The king of Murlee walked down the steps from his throne to look at Bluebell. He examined her hair, her face, her hands, her figure, and her feet. She held herself straight and refused to blink or flinch as he ran her hair through his fingers and caressed her cheek.
"Hmm," said the king. "She is hardly a traditional beauty. Still, she is unquestionably fair, and her eyes are truly enchanting." He turned to the prince. "She is a fair trade. You have earned the horse that can outrun the wind. Come to the stables.
"You stay here, girl," he said to Bluebell. "My servants will take you to a room. Give them your basket."
Bluebell curtsied deeply. "Thank you, my lord," she said, "but I should like to see the horse that can outrun the wind, and say farewell to the prince who brought me to you."
The king shrugged. "No matter," he said, and he walked out of the throne room, preceded by ten guards (who wore red-and-gold and carried spears). Bluebell, the prince, and the fox walked behind him, followed by ten more guards.
After passing through a maze of gilded, mirrored hallways, they came to the stables in the outer bailey. A thin man in a patched tunic rushed out and bowed.
"Have the horse saddled and brought to me," the king said. The man hurried into the stables and returned leading a singularly ugly horse (it was built for speed, you see, not beauty) wearing a tattered saddle. The king turned to the prince. "Here is the horse that can outrun the wind," he said. "Take it and leave my kingdom."
The prince bowed. "At once, your Majesty." He took the reins and mounted; the horse shivered and danced forward until it stood beside Bluebell.
"Farewell, my lady," said the prince, and held out his hand. She grasped it, thinking to say goodbye and leave later with the fox, but the prince yanked her up behind him and spurred the horse toward the gates.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked.
"Saving you! Hold on." The prince leaned forward and kicked the horse again.
"Stop them!" shouted the king of Murlee, but the horse could outrun the wind and flew through the gates long before the guards could close them. The prince guided the horse through the city and into the forest, putting the golden castle far behind them.
The horse ran west for hours, tireless, through fields and forests, until the prince decided they were safe. He reined in the horse, slid to the ground, and offered his hands to Bluebell. She slid down and leaned on him as her knees buckled (for the horse was no more comfortable to ride than any other, though it could outrun the wind).
"That was stealing," she said.
The prince looked at his boots. "I know. But you really didn't want to stay with the king of Murlee. I saw how he treats people when I was there before."
Bluebell glared at him. "You should have thought of that before you ignored the fox and involved me in your destiny. Then I wouldn't have had to worry about the king of Murlee in the first place. Go away and I'll make dinner."
The prince sighed, but he unsaddled and brushed the horse as she gathered wood and water, then walked away, leaving the horse tied to a bush. While she boiled soup, Bluebell fed the horse bits of bread. It ate eagerly.
She slept badly that night, and was woken near midnight by a strange crackling noise. At first she thought a wild beast was creeping outside the firelight, but a voice whispered, "It's only me. Go to sleep."
"Fox!" she said. "How did you get here?"
"I walked. It was a long, long way, and I'm tired. Go to sleep, Bluebell." The fox lay down beside her. She let it stay, and fell asleep smiling.
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Chapter Five: The Firebird
The journey to Athimand took only two days on the horse that could outrun the wind (which was, they discovered, fond of having its ears scratched). Bluebell held the fox in her arms so it wouldn't tire itself keeping up.
This time, after he announced himself, the prince rode through the castle gates and waited in the courtyard for the king of Athimand to come outside. (This was not, strictly speaking, rude; he simply couldn't bring the horse into the castle, and he didn't want to let such a valuable creature out of his sight. Besides, he knew the king wanted to see the horse.)
The king of Athimand was almost as ostentatious as the king of Murlee, only his castle was silver instead of gold, and he covered his walls with mosaics instead of tapestries. The marble courtyard was cold and full of echoes.
Presently the king descended the steps of his keep, flanked by twenty guards in blue-and-silver (who carried swords), and extended his arms to the prince. "You have brought me the horse that can outrun the wind! How extraordinary," he said, spreading his arms. His hands glittered with jewels. "I will have the firebird brought shortly. But tell me, my friend, who is the beautiful girl behind you?"
"This is the princess of the ivory tower. She's traveling with me." The prince slid off the horse and handed the reins to a guard. The king glanced curiously at the fox, which jumped to the ground and sniffed at the guard's feet.
The prince noticed the king's interest and said firmly, "The fox is the princess's pet. It isn't for sale." The king sighed.
Just then, a nervous man brought the firebird out of the keep in a silver cage, which he held gingerly. The bird blazed in all the colors of the rainbow, making the king's jewels look like worthless glass. Bluebell gasped in spite of herself.
"Ah, you admire my treasure, princess?" The king of Athimand smiled. "Be wary. The bird is wild and bites those who come too near. It is controlled only by spells I myself wove into the cage." The bird cowered as the king took the cage from the servant and handed it to the prince, who bowed.
"Take the horse to the stables after the princess dismounts," the king said to his guards. "I am eager to begin its training."
The guard holding the reins stepped forward and offered Bluebell his hand, but the prince touched his shoulder. "Allow me," he said. He walked to the horse, handed the firebird's cage to Bluebell, and quickly swung into the saddle.
"Thief!" cried the king. "Stop him!"
The guard lunged forward, but dropped both his sword and the reins when the fox bit his leg. The horse flew through the castle gates and the king of Athimand's angry screams faded swiftly in the distance.
That evening they stopped by the edge of a forest. Bluebell hung the firebird's cage from a branch while the prince unsaddled the horse. "Please fetch some wood," she said, not looking at him. He sighed and vanished into the trees.
She offered a slice of bread to the bird, which tore at it eagerly. "Poor thing. I'm not surprised you don't like people if you're always locked in a cage or under a spell. The king of Athimand seemed quite unpleasant."
The bird snapped at her.
She served their supper (thin beef soup) in silence, but after a while her curiosity overcame her. "What will happen when we reach Tourmaline?" she asked the prince.
He glanced at her, surprised. "My father will declare me his heir and disinherit my brothers, after he and my mother welcome me home," he said. "I don't know what he'll do with the horse and the firebird. He wanted to kill the bird for stealing his apples, but since it was under a spell he'll probably declare war on Athimand instead. He doesn't like thieves."
The prince shrugged. "My parents will like you. You remind me of my sister, Aurora, who married the king of Topaz. She stubborn too, and she likes horses."
"I see," said Bluebell. "Why didn't your brothers go fetch the firebird instead of you?"
"Oh, they started to, but they didn't get very far. My oldest brother, Lucian, went south instead of east and became a knight of the Emperor of Alandia. He married one of the Emperor's thirty-three daughters and is now fourteenth in line for the Diamond Throne.
"My middle brother, Cedric, went north and died in Thule. A messenger brought us his sword and a tale of how he killed a dragon. I don't believe a word of it (Cedric was a wonderful brother, but he was never handy with a sword) but it makes my parents happier. So the quest is just a formality; I'm the only son left to inherit at all."
"The quest wasn't your destiny?" Bluebell asked, puzzled.
"It might have been." The prince put his empty bowl on the ground and leaned back on his elbows. "We don't have much to do with destinies in Tourmaline, though I hear they're more common in the east. We believe in responsibility. Do you have a destiny, my lady?"
"I don't know. I did, but I think I've gone past it, and I don't know what to do anymore. I may be caught up in yours. The fox says you have one, you know." Bluebell picked up the bowls and spoons and rinsed them.
"I didn't, actually. It never told me," said the prince. "I wonder why?"
"I think it likes being mysterious."
The prince laughed. "This is true. Though I think, in my case, it has more to do with promises I broke by not following its advice with the bird and the horse. I have no idea why I broke them; it was quite unlike me. I promised it a favor to make up for my lapse, but I think it likes irritating me anyway." He paused, seeming to think deeply. Then, in an overly casual voice, he said, "If I may ask, my lady, what was your destiny?"
"Oh, to wait in the ivory tower until you traded me for the horse that can outrun the wind. It was rather lonely," Bluebell said slowly, expecting him to laugh.
He didn't, though. Instead, he answered pleasantly and they talked for another hour or so, telling each other of their homes and families. She was surprised that the prince no longer seemed as unpleasant as she remembered. She supposed it wasn't his fault she had been locked in the tower; he was no more responsible for his destiny than she for hers. And he had saved the horse from the king of Athimand, even if he did steal it.
"It's getting late, and we have to travel tomorrow," the prince said finally. "Goodnight, Bluebell."
"Goodnight, Ivan."
That night, the fox did not wake Bluebell when it crept into their camp. It lay down beside her and she smiled in her sleep.
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Chapter Six: Tourmaline
They rode slowly to Tourmaline, taking a week instead of a day, and let the fox walk. Prince Ivan and Bluebell talked every night and smiled more often. Occasionally he pointed out sights of his homeland. Bluebell commented politely; the fox kept its thoughts to itself.
They reached the king of Tourmaline's imposing castle at midmorning. "I've come home with the firebird," Ivan said to the four guards at the gate (who wore black-and-silver and carried pikes). "Please tell my father and ask him to meet me by the stables."
The guards bowed and one marched into the castle. Ivan directed the horse through the outer bailey to a cobblestone yard in front of a large stable, waving and greeting various people all the way. They smiled and cried his name, and shot curious looks at Bluebell and the fox.
"This is my home," Ivan said, gently halting the horse. "What do you think?"
"It seems much more friendly and normal than Athimand or Murlee," said Bluebell, "but still much larger and richer than my home. We haven't money to pay guards or pave courtyards." She handed the firebird's cage to Ivan after he dismounted. He set it on the ground and helped her off the horse.
"What happens now?"
"My father should come soon," said Ivan. A trumpet sounded from the keep. "Actually, here he comes now."
The king of Tourmaline (who had an impressively long white beard, though he was a bit stout) was preceded by a trumpeter and accompanied by various advisors and his queen (who was lovely, with black hair, red lips, and pale cheeks flushed from happiness). "Ivan!" the king said, and opened his arms. Ivan smiled and embraced his father.
"We missed you," said the queen, as she embraced her son and leaned her head on his shoulder. "The castle seemed very empty without you. Welcome home, Ivan."
"I see you brought more than the firebird," said the king, eyeing Bluebell, the horse, and the fox. "Who's the young lady? Should we expect any announcements?"
Ivan blushed. "I had some complications getting the firebird, Father," he said. "I had to fetch the horse that can outrun the wind to trade for the bird, and I had to fetch the princess of the ivory tower to trade for the horse.
"This is the princess, Bluebell of Florissant, and that's the horse that can outrun the wind. The fox (which is a magical fox) gave me advice (which I didn't follow nearly so much as I should have). It deserves a reward."
The fox looked uncomfortable and edged away. Bluebell grinned at it.
The queen coughed into her hand. "I see," she said. "Ah, but Ivan, if you'll pardon my question, how is it that the princess and the horse still accompany you, if you were supposed to trade them for the firebird?"
Ivan looked at his boots.
"I can explain that, your Majesty," said Bluebell, stepping forward. "The king of Murlee would have locked me in a room forever, but Prince Ivan saved me. The king of Athimand would have terribly mistreated the horse, but Prince Ivan saved it. He also saved the firebird, which has been bespelled for years.
"He was very brave and noble, and I'm grateful." Bluebell curtsied and stepped back to stand against the horse; it snorted and she scratched its ears. Ivan stared at her in disbelief.
"Harrumph." The king looked sternly at Bluebell and his son. "A most eloquent explanation, my lady, for which I thank you. For had I discovered Ivan to be a thief, I would have been forced to disinherit and banish him. No one is above the law, whatever those fools in Murlee and Athimand think."
There was a brief uncomfortable silence.
"Will you be staying with us, my dear?" the queen asked hastily, giving Bluebell a sympathetic look. "We would be most grateful for the company this winter, and perhaps beyond. The castle has become lonely with only one child left, and Ivan is grown now." She nudged her son in the ribs.
Ivan quickly stepped forward and offered Bluebell his hand. "Please stay, Bluebell. I would miss you if you left."
Bluebell looked at the cobblestones. "It's very kind of you to offer, but I should go home," she said. "My family misses me and I miss them. Besides, I'm only seventeen."
Ivan looked unhappy. "Are you sure you won't stay the winter?" he asked. "You could send your family a letter and go home in the spring."
"No, I want to go now, before winter. I miss Florissant." Bluebell rubbed her cheek. She would not embarrass herself by crying in front of strangers, or in front of Ivan. Especially not in front of Ivan's parents.
"Take the horse, then," said Ivan. "It's a long way to Florissant and you might not get there before the winter storms otherwise."
Bluebell looked up, surprised. "Oh, you don't need to do that!" she said. "I'm sure I'll manage by myself."
"No, take the horse. I have no right to keep it. Only..." Ivan flushed. "Only come visit me in the spring? Please? I'll miss you."
Bluebell studied him. He was very nice, once you got to know him, and he wasn't at all responsible for the circumstances in which they'd me. "All right," she said finally. "Yes. I'll visit you." She hugged him, very briefly, before stepping back. He looked stunned (for princes, like all young men, are never quite as self-assured as they would have the world believe) and very happy.
"Go in peace then, Princess Bluebell, and with our blessings," said the king, who had kept tactfully silent during the previous conversation.
"May the way be clear before you and the sun shine bright upon your journey," the queen added, smiling. She seemed to be stifling a dance of glee.
Bluebell clambered onto the horse, checked that her basket was still tied to the saddle, and looked down at Ivan. "Goodbye, Ivan."
"Goodbye, Bluebell," he said.
She kicked the horse gently and it trotted around the castle and out the gate; the fox followed. The guards saluted her and she waved to them, beaming.
As she rode down the hill, the sound of a thousand bells rose suddenly behind her. Turning, she saw the firebird hovering free over the castle, before it streaked south to the lands of the sun. Bluebell laughed in delight and kicked the horse into a gallop, letting the wind blow across her face.
She was free.
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Chapter Seven: A Peculiar Request
Six days later, Bluebell stopped near the border of Florissant, not wanting to arrive home in the middle of the night. She unsaddled and brushed the horse and heated a bit of thin soup for supper. The ancient pines around the clearing blocked her view of the stars, leaving the fire her only source of light. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the flames after eating, wondering what her family would say when she came home.
A noise jolted her from her daydreams and she looked around wildly. "Don't worry," said a familiar voice. "It's only me." The fox crept into the firelight.
Bluebell jumped up. "Fox!" she cried. "Where have you been? I thought you were following me when I left Tourmaline, but you were gone when I stopped that evening."
"I was taking care of various unimportant things. I came to see that you were home, and to ask a favor."
"I'll be home tomorrow morning. What favor?"
The fox looked away. "I want you to kill me," it muttered.
"What?"
The fox looked embarrassed. "I want you to kill me. That's all."
"That's all?" said Bluebell. "How could I kill you! You're my friend! I couldn't hurt you." Bluebell walked around the fire and knelt beside the fox. "Why do you want me to do something so awful?"
"Ah. That is, indeed, the question."
"Don't start that again. Answer me."
The fox sighed. "Bluebell, I'm the fox who helps princes find the firebird. I've done that for centuries. At the end of the quest, after they marry the princess, I go off to the mountains, live another twenty years, and wait for the whole business to begin again. Forever.
"I've asked several princes to kill me, but they refused. I stopped asking a long time ago. But I'm tired, and I want to stop." It looked at her. In the firelight, its eyes were very large and dark. "I want you to kill me."
Bluebell was silent for a while.
"Fox," she asked presently, "if you die, will that be the end of quests for the firebird, the horse that can outrun the wind, and the princess of the ivory tower?"
"I have no idea. I've never died before."
"Oh." Bluebell thought some more. "And what happens to you when you die? You're not a normal fox, after all."
"I don't think it matters much. A fox is a fox, and death is death."
"It matters to me. You're my friend."
They sat in silence for several minutes, not looking at each other. Bluebell wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the needle-covered earth. "What will you do if I won't?" she asked.
"I'll go live in the mountains until a new prince is born to find the firebird. Then I'll find the king who'll capture the bird, the king who'll own the horse, and the princess in the tower, so I know where to take the prince. When the bird steals fruit from his father, I'll wait for him to begin his quest and I'll stop him on the road to offer advice. When the quest is over, I'll wait in the mountains for the next prince. Again. Forever."
"Oh." Bluebell looked at her knees. "If you don't ask the princes anymore, why did you ask me?"
The fox looked away. "Because you were my friend," it said, then paused and shook its head. "No. This is not true. I asked because you changed things. You showed the prince he was a thief even though it wasn't his fault. You didn't love him at first sight, and you came home even though you started to like him. He gave you the horse and freed the firebird. None of those things ever happened before."
The fox coughed quietly into its paws. "And I thought if you changed all that, you might let me rest." It paused again. "I'm sorry. It was a terrible thing to ask."
It stood and walked into the pines.
"Fox, wait," said Bluebell. The fox turned; its eyes glittered from the shadows. "I don't know what to do. I want to help you, but I'm not a murderer. I don't want anyone else to be the princess of the ivory tower, even if it was all right for me in the end, but I can't kill you. And I don't even know that anything would change if you died. It might keep on, only with a different fox."
"This is true," said the fox. "I can't help you. You know what I want."
Bluebell hugged her knees fiercely, staring blankly into the fire. Finally, she looked into the fox's glittering eyes. "I can't. I can't kill you" she said. "It would feel like murder to me, and I can't convince myself that anything good would come of it. I'm sorry."
"I see. Goodbye, Bluebell."
"Goodbye, fox."
The fox walked slowly into the shadows beneath the pines. Bluebell felt tears on her face and rubbed at them with her sleeve. It was wrong to cry when a friend left. It cast bad luck on the journey.
"Fox," she called as it vanished into the dark, "fox, ask Ivan. He let the firebird go."
She couldn't tell if it heard.
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Chapter Eight: In Which Farewells Are Taken
The next morning, Bluebell rode into her father's castle over a newly paved moat (the water, however, was already becoming green again). In the stables she greeted her old friends, unsaddled the horse that could outrun the wind, and put it into a loose box with fresh water and grain. The stable master ran his hands admiringly over the horse's legs as she left and was far too preoccupied to tell anyone of her return.
Inspired by his lack of attention, Bluebell decided to surprise her parents. She sneaked into the castle, hushing servants all the way to her old room in the north wing (the castle had two wings, neither of which was particularly imposing) where she washed and changed into a clean dress. Feeling more herself, she went to find her father and mother.
King Dunstan and Queen Eleanor were in the room behind the great hall, once again discussing taxes with their ministers. This time, Bluebell opened the door. The ministers stared at her, shocked, and her parents rushed to hug her.
"Bluebell!" her father cried. "We didn't think you were coming home."
"We missed you so much," said her mother. "What happened with that horrible prince and the king of Murlee? How did you get away?"
Bluebell explained that Prince Ivan was really very nice once you got to know him and that he had rescued her from the king of Murlee (who was inarguably horrible). He had also kept the horse that could outrun the wind away from the unpleasant king of Athimand, and set the firebird free. She had promised to visit him in the spring and she wanted to bring him to Florissant for the summer, if nobody minded.
Nobody did mind, and come spring, Bluebell packed a basket (much larger than the one she had brought to Tourmaline the first time) and rode west on the horse that could outrun the wind (which she called Handsome, because it wasn't). Ivan was very glad to see her and his parents only hinted at marriage three times a day.
A week after she arrived, Bluebell and Ivan went for a walk in the woods. They talked of this and that, and after an hour, Bluebell asked him if he had seen the fox since she had left last autumn.
Ivan looked away. "Yes," he said finally. "I did see the fox again. Once. Why do you ask?"
Bluebell pulled her hand from Ivan's. "It came to me just before I reached home. It asked me to kill it. I told it to ask you."
"Ah."
They walked in silence for a minute, not looking at each other. The afternoon sun slanted golden-green through the trees, falling thinly to the ground. Birds flew between the branches, flitting away from the path, and the wind rustled gently through the young leaves. In the distance, a deer crashed through the underbrush.
"It asked me, too," said Ivan.
Bluebell stopped. "And did you?" she asked.
He looked at the ground and scuffed his boots through last year's dead leaves. "Yes."
"How could you?"
"I didn't have any choice!" said Ivan. "I promised the fox a favor after I'd ignored its advice with the firebird and the horse. It called in the favor and asked me to kill it."
Bluebell turned away. "You could have said no," she said.
Ivan seized her shoulders and tried to turn her to face him; Bluebell resisted. "No, I could not have said no! I broke my word to the fox. I broke my word to the kings of Murlee and Athimand. I know how horrible they were, but I gave my word. And I let you lie by implication to my father, to save my inheritance.
"I'm a thief and a liar and an oath-breaker many times over, and I am never going to break my word again." He lowered his voice. "It wanted to die so much. It cried, Bluebell. I didn't know foxes could cry."
Bluebell turned slightly. "How did you kill it?"
"A knife to the heart. It was as fast and clean a death as I could manage." He looked at his boots. "I buried it in the woods. I can take you there, if you'd like."
"I want to see the grave," said Bluebell.
Ivan dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Follow me," he said. They took the left fork in the branching path and walked several minutes without speaking.
"Here," said Ivan, stopping in front of an irregular granite slab. "Under there."
The stone was very stark and lonely, resting in a bed of brown leaves and needles with no bushes or flowers nearby. Ivan had scratched a rough picture of the fox's head onto a flat area of the rock.
Bluebell walked back along the path to a small clearing where daisies and thistles fought tiny pines and choking grasses for sunlight. She picked a handful of greenery and flowers. Ivan watched silently as she laid the flowers on the stone. "Goodbye, fox," she said. "Sleep well."
She rubbed her eyes and reached for Ivan. They held each other's hands tightly as they walked back to the castle in the fading afternoon sun.
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Chapter Nine: And Last
Bluebell and Ivan married the next spring, and when Ivan's father died they ruled Tourmaline wisely and well. They had two sons and two daughters who had no destinies, and when a glittering scroll arrived at their third daughter's naming, they burned it unopened, preferring not to know what it foretold. But destinies seemed rarer as the years went on. Handsome, (the horse that could once outrun the wind) became slow in its age, and the firebird was seldom seen, even in the distant south.
When their eldest son was eighteen, Bluebell and Ivan left him to manage Tourmaline while they visited family in Florissant. They spent a pleasant summer catching up on various relatives and old friends, but as the season drew to a close, Bluebell often stood on the balcony of their room, looking east to Lookfar Mountain.
Ivan asked her about this one evening.
"I wonder what became of the ivory tower," she said. "Did the destiny stop when the fox died, or is the tower still waiting for a new princess?"
"We can go look," said Ivan, crossing his arms over her chest and drawing her to him.
"I'm not sure I want to," said Bluebell. "It seems safer not to know."
"No, we should see for ourselves. Let's go tomorrow." Ivan hugged his wife tightly. "But now we should sleep."
Bluebell smiled, turning to kiss him. "This is true," she said, and they went inside.
The next morning they rode east with several of their nieces and nephews to search for the ivory tower, following the faint remnants of the trail Bluebell's family used to visit her, many years ago. But the trail ended in an empty clearing.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Ivan.
"Yes," said Bluebell. "I spent five years in that tower. I remember." But the clearing held no signs of a tower, not even a foundation. The nieces and nephews searched for several hours, and in various nearby clearings, in case Bluebell's memory was not as good as she thought, but they found nothing. By mid-afternoon they gave up and went home.
"What do you suppose happened to the tower?" Bluebell asked Ivan that evening. "Did it vanish when the fox died? Was it ever truly there? Or did it simply move elsewhere, waiting for a new princess and prince to go through the story again? Did we change anything at all?"
"I don't know," said Ivan. "I suppose it doesn't matter much in the end. The story worked out well enough for us, and it's out of our hands anyway. Go to sleep, Bluebell."
She shivered and clung tightly when he hugged her. He fell asleep holding her, but Bluebell stared into the dark a long time, remembering the fox and thinking about their third daughter and her unread scroll.
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The End
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I did post this story previously in a divided form, but it was always intended to be a single story (despite the 'chapter' divisions) and I have more captive readers now than I did a year and a half ago, and I wanted to give people a clear idea of what I do when I retell fairy tales, so... *grin*
