I am Princess Aurora Rose, daughter of King Stefan and Queen Leah. There have been many who have told my story badly, either attempting to hide the facts, or unaware of them. I hope, in this document, to set the record straight.  

 

How My Mother and Father Met

​

My mother and father met in very unusual circumstances. At the time, my mother preferred to be called "Snow White," and suffered from the delusion that her mother was jealous of her beauty and was trying to murder her. (My mother is a most unreliable witness in nearly everything. She continually confuses reality with her own fantasies. My father is little better. I sincerely hope that Phillip and I will be wiser and more effective rulers than they.)

In unfounded fear for her life, my mother fled the safety of my grandmother's castle, only to happen upon a colony of powerful alchemist dwarves whom she foolishly believed to be little more than children. Unable to remember or pronounce their dwarvish names, she made up names like "Dopey" and "Sneezy" for them. The dwarves soon discovered that while "Snow White" was endlessly annoying when awake, she was quite lovely and very entertaining while asleep. They managed to trick her into eating a drugged apple, casting her into a long and deep sleep. They kept her sleeping body in a crystal "toy box" in the forest, and played with her when they had leisure. They did not, they have assured me, molest her sexually during these sessions, but they did have their fun.

Eventually, Father was wandering through the forest “looking for adventure” (my Father's term for “fighting boredom”) and found Mother in the toy box. He managed to wake her from her enchanted sleep, and they were soon wed. The dwarves effectively hid their disappointment in the loss of their toy.
 

I loved this story when I was growing up, at least the way the dwarves told it. I asked them to tell it to me again and again. Often, I would sneak an apple from the kitchens and pretend it to be drugged. I'd take a bite and then collapse to the floor. The more I practiced, the more graceful I became in my swooning. Other times, I would lie in my bed and pretend to be Snow White in her toy box, and then, after a while, toss myself about, pretending that the dwarves were playing with me. (Today, darling Phillip plays the parts of the dwarves!)

My mother and father tell this story quite differently. I am fairly certain they are wrong. For example, they say that my grandmother, when she learned that my mother lived, was forced to wear red hot shoes and dance until she died. The truth, as it has been reliably recounted to me, is that when my grandmother found that she was actually permanently rid of my mother, she danced herself (of her own free will) to exhaustion, fainting dramatically in her grand ballroom during what was said to be the thirtieth consecutive night of merriment. After a few days recovery, she set forth to celebrate the nuptials and await the birth of her first grandchild (me). Unfortunately, on the journey, a snake bit her heel and killed her almost instantly. I never got to meet her.

​

The Story of My Blessing

​

As I'm sure you are aware, fairies are excellent at seeing into one's very heart and discerning what lies there, even when that heart is only a few days old. They give gifts to all humans, of high station and low, though, for a royal child, a certain ceremony is observed.

Four particular fairies were present at my Blessing, fairies who I've come to love as if they were my very own family: Floricia, Fauchean, Merriweather, and Mollia. As usual, Mother finds it confusing when people have names she did not invent, so she calls my fairy aunts “Flora,” “Fauna,” “Mary”, and “Maleficent.” I am surprised Mother even knows the word “maleficent,” but she has applied it incorrectly. Aunt Mollia is not at all maleficent. She is the dearest of my aunts. 

The first gift at a royal Blessing is always Beauty, and Aunt Floricia followed tradition. Aunt Floricia told me that everyone is beautiful to someone, and so the gift is largely a waste of time, but it has comforted the egos of many a royal couple over the years, especially the more dim-witted. (My parents loved it.)

The second gift is particular to the heart of the child, but usually of a more practical nature. For example, a prince might be given the gift of Strength or Wisdom, a princess, Tact or Nurturing. Aunt Fauchean gave me the gift of Song. She told me that she saw in my heart a deeply creative spirit, and wanted me to have a way to express it and share it with others. Thank you, Aunt Fauchean.

The third gift (and there were only three gifts despite all my mother says) is one that addresses the very center of the heart, the place where joy and wonder and excitement lay. It is different for each child,  and it is delivered by two fairies, for it is a very difficult bit of magic to perform, even for fairies.

Aunt Mollia, who had been preparing herself in the outer chamber until this moment, entered with a flourish and, assisted by Aunt Merriweather, gave forth the blessing, the one I most cherish. Aunt Mollia said, in fairy tongue "Brelved ana somort." She then immediately left, for the Blessing ceremony was finished. (Aunt Mollia is not one who enjoys the social graces. It is one of the things I love about her. When she has nothing to say, she is silent, and when she wishes to leave, she leaves.)

"Brelved ana" means "I bless you with" or "I give you", but the word "somort" does not have a very good translation into English, perhaps because it is so difficult for many people to even consider it a gift and not a perversion It encompasses beauty, vulnerability, and trust. Sometimes, it can mean something like "death." Sometimes, it can mean one who places their life in the hands of another. Sometimes, it can mean sleep. For me, it means a fantasy come true.

Aunts Floricia and Fauchean instantly saw how wonderful the Final Blessing was, but mother somehow thought that Aunt Mollia had prophesied my death. (As usual, Mother thinks it's all about her. She thinks Aunt Mollia was jealous by not being invited to the Blessing. Of course she wasn't jealous, and she wasn't invited. Fairies invite themselves.)

Aunt Merriweather did her best to clear up the misunderstanding. "No," she said. "It's not death. It's something like sleep. It will be her joy. She might be playing at something, maybe spinning thread, and she'll do something like prick her finger and..."  

"The prick will kill her?" Mother asked in alarm.

"No, no!" Aunt Merriweather said. "Like sleep, I guess. She'll fall limp and let people carry her off and she'll love how it feels. I've seen your heart, Leah; you know what I mean."

But Mother was only listening to the parts that fit her sense of drama. She told everyone that I was going to prick my finger someday, and that I would sleep for 100 years. Where she got the "100 years" part from, I don't know.

Father, who I believe was half-asleep during the whole Blessing event, banned spinning wheels from the kingdom. This was a brilliant bit of statesmanship, forcing us to import our thread from neighboring kingdoms, thereby making clothes so expensive that many of the peasants wore almost nothing at all. If it weren't for Aunt Mollia working to keep the winters in the kingdom much milder than usual, many of these peasants and farmers would have frozen to death, leading to famine in the fall and even more deaths.

"There are fewer things in this world, living or dead, which are more idiotic than your parents," Uncle D used to say. (He is one of the dwarves who kept Mother before he met my father.  His name is too difficult for me to pronounce, so, he graciously allows me to call him "Uncle D." Mother calls him "Dopey," of all things.)

The thing is, I know what Aunt Merriweather meant about knowing Mother's heart. I'm convinced that she and Father enjoy their own version of somort. More than a few times, I saw Father carrying Mother around the castle late at night, limp in his arms, or over his shoulder, or dragging along the floor.

​

The Curse of the Blessing

 

In case it isn't clear thus far, my mother and I never got along very well. Mother thinks me willful and disobedient, and I think her stupid and shallow. When I was very young, I excelled at my "feminine" studies (sewing and cooking and the like), but I also learned a bit of magic and sword-craft. Mother heartily disapproved of me extending my education that way.

At idle times (which is much of the time at court) I'd often play “war” with some of the courtier's children (usually boys against girls). We'd use wooden swords and slingshots throwing "stones" made of cloth. There were two winners: the team that wasn't forced to surrender, and the vanquished “soldier” who did the best death scene. It was a little awkward at first with my parents outranking all of theirs, but it soon got much more fun when I told one of the boys (his name was William) to kill me so I could try to win the other prize. (He stabbed me and I did a passable scene, collapsing to the ground and kicking my feet a couple of times. When I came to rest, my skirt fell so that my legs were visible above the knee. I felt the cool air and I knew that William could see me. I knew that he was looking at me, and that I was not going to pull down the skirt because I was playing dead. My heart was racing. It felt really good. They wanted to give me the prize out of deference to my position, but I insisted that Shawna, daughter of the King's Treasurer, did a much better scene, rolling like a rag doll down a hill and coming to rest in such an awkward pose we were all concerned that she might really be hurt.)

We were very careful never to be caught by any adult human. We were sure they would not understand. Aunt Merriweather used to heal our bumps and bruises and help us clean up so that we wouldn't get in trouble.

When playing war wasn't possible, I'd often retreat into my chambers with an apple from the kitchens and play "Snow White."

Aunt Floricia, Aunt Fauchean, and Aunt Merriweather lived at the castle, largely to help prevent the worst of my parent's judgments from affecting too many innocent people. Aunt Mollia, however, had many other duties. She and her husband Diablo ruled a far-off fairy kingdom, and, as such, were seldom nearby. (Uncle Diablo had the wonderful talent to be able to change his appearance into any number of things: a bull, a frog, a cat, and more. My favorite was when he would transform into a crow. I've always loved crows!)

After the disaster of my Blessing, Aunt Mollia and Uncle Diablo were technically forbidden from entering the castle. They came and went when they wanted anyway, but usually did not stay long so as not to make too much trouble for the other fairies here.

Just after my fourteenth birthday, Aunt Mollia came to visit and asked what I had done with the Blessings I had received at birth. I told her truthfully that I had sung to generals and princes so beautifully that they often ended their pointless disputes, and that I tried not to take the Beauty Blessing too seriously.

"And what of Merriweather and my blessing?" she asked.

"Oh, I love that one most of all!" I said. I told her of the games of war. And then I told her of my Snow White game. To show her, I took an apple from a bowl of fruit on a table, took a bite from it, and fell softly to the floor with a little sigh. Aunt Mollia applauded.

“You look lovely, dear Aurora,” she said. “You've managed to use both the Blesssings of Beauty and Somort!”

I did not register my pleasure at the praise. I lay there still, loving the feel of the cold stone against my skin, the tickle of the loose hair across my face. I felt the smooth satin of my dress against my knee where it had bunched up during the fall.

I had learned to breathe very shallowly, so that it hardly looked like I breathed at all.

I had been careless.

I had done my “Snow White” swoon too near the open doorway, and my hand lay in the hall.

Mother saw my had limp on the floor and rushed over. Fortunately, Aunt Mollia hid herself from Mother's eyes or things would have been much worse, I fear.

"Aurora Rose!" she screamed. "What evil is this? Have you found a spinning wheel?" 

I roused immediately and quickly got to my feet, running my hand through my hair to get it back into place.

What I should have said was, “I was just playing.”

What I meant to say was, “Aunt Mollia was just asking me about my Blessings.”

What I did say was “Aunt Mollia” before Mother cut me off with one of her screams.

She somehow got it stuck in her head that Aunt Mollia was once again trying to kill me. (What is it with mother and attempted homicide?)

She decided the castle was not safe for me and sent me off into the woods to live. At first, she wanted to send me to the dwarves, but I said that there was no way I was going to get under the feet of Uncle D and the others like she did.

Aunt Floricia, Aunt Fauchean, and Aunt Merriweather agreed to take me to a small cabin in the woods normally used as hunting lodge by Father and his friends. I would have to leave my friends. I cried for hours. It was all my fault.
 

Of course, things turned out wonderfully, but I didn't know that at the time.
 

My Exhile

​

The cottage was comfortable enough, if dreadfully lonely for a girl of fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen. My fairy aunts made sure I was well and healthy, and continued my education. All my education, including the combat skills and magic.

I was also no longer afraid of anyone catching me playing my games. I just didn't have anyone to play them with.

Aunt Merriweather would help as best she could. Sometimes she'd be cleaning and come into a room and find me sprawled out on the floor.

“Oh,” she said. “I seem to have missed a spot!”

Then she'd roll me over to the couch and push my limp body roughly under it, saying, “There! Now no one will notice!”

Or we'd be having a cup of tea and I would gag and collapse face first with a thump onto the table.

“Oh, dear,” she'd say. “Did I poison the tea again?”

She'd pull my head up by the hair, look at my face and say, “I guess so.”

Then I'd slide off the chair onto the floor and she'd say, “Pity. She was such a pretty girl too!”

Aunt Floricia played with me too, especially during combat training. Whenever I mastered a new technique or move, she'd reward me by letting me pretend to get knocked out. She'd say, “Aurora Rose, that was very good! Now let me show you something new I think you'll like.”

And then we'd grapple a little until she'd get me in a choke hold, or a neck pinch, or even this move where she turns me upside down and and drops down to her knees so that she slams my head into the ground. (Not really, of course. There's a trick to it.) I'd then go limp and flop down.

Then she'd pick me up in her arms or throw me over her shoulder and take me inside, and Aunt Merriweather or Aunt Fauchean would see us come in and say something like, “Well, looks like you had another good combat class, Aurora!” But I wouldn't react at all and just stay limp until Aunt Floricia would carry me into my room and drop me onto the bed and leave saying, “Dinner's in an hour. You should change clothes before then.”

I also worked on my singing voice. Aunt Fauchean took that has her responsibility and taught me scales and exercises and so many songs, old and new, and something of why some songs sound better than others.

It was more than three years later when I sang one of those songs on my own in a clearing, a very old song in fairy-tongue. I was enjoying the beautiful sadness of the lyrics, and the beautiful hopefulness in the melody. And my darling Phillip appeared in the trees across the meadow, cautiously stepping forward, a look of wonder on his face.

I wasn't afraid at all. As I suggested earlier, I can and could take care of myself, and my fairy aunts were never too far away to help if I needed it.

I finished the lament on a clear high note that rang through the trees as it died on my lips. I looked at Phillip.

He just stood there for a long moment. Then, he said, almost in a whisper, “That was... It was like you could sing right to my heart.”

“You speak fairy-tongue?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Then how do you know what I sang?” I asked.

He was quiet a moment. “I don't know what you sang,” he said quietly at last. “I just know how it made me feel.”

“I am Aurora Rose,” I said.

“Phillip,” he said, almost automatically. “Oldest son of King Hubert of the Western Lands.”

“Very nice to meet you, Prince Phillip,” I said. “What brings you to these woods?”

“My father sent me to negotiate a trade alliance with the kingdom of Stefan and Leah, she the famous Snow White,” he said. “It seems they are in desperate need of thread, for some reason, and we hoped to trade for something of value to us. I heard your song from the road. I turned aside to see what could make such a glorious sound.”

“Thank you, Prince Phillip,” I said. “I'm glad you came. I rarely have an audience these days.”

“What's the song mean?” Phillip asked.

“It's about a beautiful girl who died young,” I said. “It's a song about how fragile and beautiful life can be.” After a pause, I added, “I want them to sing it at my funeral.”

“You’re... dying?” Phillip asked.

“No more than you, Prince Phillip,” I said.

“Good,” Phillip said. “You are far too beautiful to die.”

“Thank you again,” I said. “I should stop playing with you, though. I am actually Princess Aurora Rose, daughter and only child of King Stefan and Queen Leah.”

“Then they were right when they said you were as beautiful as your mother is stu-...” he started. “They were right when they said you were beautiful,” he tried to backtrack.

“As beautiful as my mother is stupid, or unwise, or shallow, or...” I continued for him.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I should be more careful what I repeat. I have not yet met your parents. I am sure the stories are wrong. I must stop listening to such gossip.”

“No,” I said. “You were right. My father is not much better.”

“Pardon me if I ask something improper, but why are you here, so far from the castle?” Phillip changed the subject. “I imagine there are places to sing in the castle.”

“It's a long story,” I said. “Please join me and my fairy aunts for dinner and I will tell it to you.”

“I cannot be more honored,” he said. “I have fairy aunts as well.”

“What were your Blessings,” I asked, “if it isn't too forward?”

“You may ask me anything, my lady,” he said. And then he said something truly remarkable. I may have started falling in love with him right then. “My Blessings,” he said, “were Beauty (of course), Wisdom, and one you probably haven't heard of...

“Somort.”

 

The Madness Must Stop

 

It was six weeks later when Phillip returned to the cabin on his way back home. He looked angry.

“Phillip,” I said. “What troubles you so?”

“I'd rather not say,” he said through clenched jaw. “There are more pleasant things to speak of.”

“It's my parents, isn't it?” I said.

His silence was as good as assent.

I called Aunt Floricia out to where we were. When she arrived, I asked Phillip, “What idiocy have my parents done now?”

He was silent a moment, then said, “The negotiations are confidential, so I can’t even talk with you about them, but you’re mother is a... I can’t think of a word that’s bad enough.”

Aunt Floricia frowned. Then, she said, “This madness must stop.”

“How can it stop?” Phillip asked in frustration. “She is queen. The king shows no interest in improving things.”

“Nonetheless,” Aunt Floricia said, “it must stop. I’ve called Merriweather, Fauchean,  Mollia, and Diablo. Let us meet for a few hours, then later, we’ll discuss the situation with you two.”

Phillip paced and muttered.

“What can I do, my fairy aunt?” I asked.

Aunt Floricia smiled. “I believe you can calm down your prince,” she said. “Perhaps you two will enjoy playing with this.”

She pulled from her pockets what seemed like a simple white cloth.

“Oh,” I said, “thank you, Aunt Floricia!”

“What?” asked Phillip, distracted from his thoughts.

I took the cloth from Aunt Floricia. “Let me show you something, my darling,” I said. “But first, I think I need to change. You liked that little blue dress, didn’t you?”

Now, I don’t think Phillip was thinking of mother anymore.

 

My Return from Exhile

I walked through the woods in my little blue dress, swinging my arms back and forth, singing a merry little song. Soon, Phillip lept from hiding, grabbed me around the waist from behind, and pressed the magic cloth over my face, just as I’d hoped. I struggled for a while, twisting my waist, kicking my legs, and pulling at his arms, but soon the magic in the cloth took hold of me, my vision grew hazy, and I felt myself go limp in his arms. I barely remember feeling him lower me to the ground. From a million miles away, I heard him say, “My, but you are beautiful, my love!”

I awoke in the cottage, my face hot as I imagined Phillip carrying me back there, me limp in his arms, hanging down like a rag doll. My heart beat hard as I imagined him laying me in my bed, watching my body melt onto the mattress.
 

I arose and called out, “Phillip?”

“Out here, Aurora Rose,” he called from outside. When I joined him, I was sorry to see his horse saddled and shod.
 

“You’re leaving?” I asked, disappointed.
 

“Alas yes,” he said, “but we will be parted for only a short time. I go to visit your friends the dwarfs and learn more of this country and its people and magic.”
 

“Then I’ll go with you,” I said. “I’d love to see Uncle D and the others again!”
 

“No,” said a firm but loving voice. Aunt Mollia rose from where she sat on the cottage steps.
 

“Aunt Mollia!” I cried and ran to hug her.
 

“You’re going back to the castle, my heart,” she said. “You’re going to have an accident with a spinning needle.”
 

I Prick my Finger

​

I was received back at the castle with dramatic hugs from my father and mother. It seems they thought that Aunt Mollia had found me in the cottage and was going to try to kill me again, so the castle was safest. Aunt Floricia was clearly trying not to smile.

​

After two months, I selected a dress that I thought Phillip would like to find me in. It was light and green and soft. Phillip said he liked my bare feet, so I wore no shoes. I then began the incantations. Soon, I had placed myself in a trance so that I could hear the fairy call.

I was vaguely aware as I climbed the steps in the tower, following Aunt Mollia’s call. I walked as if I were sleepwalking, my eyes open and unfocused, my lips parted, and several courtiers and castle staff saw me. This was all in the plan, of course. They would surely report what they saw to Mother and Father. 

​

Then, I entered the room where Aunt Mollia waited with the spinning wheel. The sight of it sent my heart racing, for I knew that soon I’d be helpless, waiting for my Phillip’s kiss.

​

I touched my finger to the spindle.

​

At the sensation of the sharpness of the spindle cutting into me, and the sight of the blood it drew, the trance deepened abruptly and I felt myself fall onto the hard stone floor. From far away, I heard Aunt Mollia say, “Beautiful.”

​

Someone found me soon afterward. My eyes were closed so I could see nothing, and sounds were beginning to fade as well. I felt myself lifted up in someone’s arms, felt my head fall back, felt my arms swing, but I did not know who carried me, and that made it all the more exciting, even within the fog of the magic. I pretended it was my Phillip, even though I knew it could not be.

​

I was placed on my bed. My hair was brushed out of my face. My legs were brought together. My hands were rested on my stomach. And then the magic took me out of myself altogether and I could see myself lying there on the bed, and it made me warm and excited.

​

My fairy aunts (all but Aunt Mollia) told my mother a fable about how they had saved me from death, and that they would cast the whole castle into a 100-year sleep until I was awakened by a kiss from a prince. Mother swallowed the story like fresh water on a hot day. Father wasn’t paying attention, as usual.

​

Aunt Merriweather then cast a spell and Mother and Father fell asleep where they were. In a moment, the rest of staff and courtiers fell asleep as well. One of them, a girl named Susan who helped dress me, had been standing next to my bed, and fell forward across my legs.

​

In about an hour, Phillip and Aunt Mollia entered my chambers.

​

“Now, Merriweather set this up so that when you kiss her lips, the whole castle will awaken,’ Aunt Mollia said. “The story you are to relate is that they’ve been asleep for 100 years and that you defeated me.”

​

“Won’t they recognize me from the negotiations last month?” Phillip asked.

​

“They won’t know you at all,” Aunt Mollia said.

​

“None of them?” asked Phillip anxiously and he looked over at me.

​

(Why should it be so exciting to me that I lay unmoving while he looked at me?)

​

“Don’t be daft, boy,” Aunt Mollia said. “She loves you.”

​

Phillip walked over to my bedside and looked at me. He lightly brushed my hair with his hand. He ran a finger down my cheek, and onto my neck, and shoulder, and arm.

​

“Wait a minute,” Aunt Mollia said. “Don’t be so hasty! I’m going to run down to the courtyard and play dead as if I’d fallen. Lend me your sword. I’ll make it look like you stabbed me.”

​

Phillip drew his sword and handed it to her.

 

Aunt Mollia continued, “After I’m sure everyone has seen me, I’ll vanish in flames or something.”

 

Phillip looked at my sleeping form, but talked to Aunt Mollia. “Good,” he said. “Call up when you’re ready for me to continue.”

 

Aunt Mollia left.

 

Phillip looked at me lying there, so helpless. He lifted my hand, and let it drop onto Susan’s back where she lay across my legs. He touched my hair, my face, my lips. His hands trembled.

 

Then, we both heard Aunt Mollia call.

 

Phillip bent down and kissed my lips. I was instantly back in my own skin, fully aware, but I waited a second or two before I kissed him back.

​

The Kingdom Today

 

Phillip told a gripping tale of his conquest of the castle and my Aunt Mollia, which he never called by name. In his story, the castle was surrounded by brambles and three-foot-long thorns and Aunt Mollia transformed herself into a dragon before Phillip vanquished her.

 

Mother believed every word. We were wed before the year was over, and Father abdicated in favor of Phillip, since he had saved the kingdom.

 

Together, we’ve been working to restore the kingdom to its former glory, and soon Phillip will also ascend to the throne of his home country, unifying our kingdoms. Mother and Father are there to help with the transition.

 

Aunt Mollia still visits us, but always in disguise so as not to spoil the fable.

 

Phillip and I have our fun too. Yesterday, we sent the servants away, and I pretended to let him drown me in the tub. I used some magic so that I could hold my breath for a long time.

 

We now have a daughter and a son. Auria has been given the Blessings of Beauty, Curiosity, and (amazingly) Somort, and Simon has the Blessing of Beauty, Wisdom, and Magic. They are beautiful and a joy to Phillip and my life.

 

Still, I worry, for in a few short years, it will be time for the Locks. I hope they will spare my Auria.

​

Please write me if you have any comments about this story.

Copyright 2010-2018 DPsleepy.

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