The Princess and the Pixie

            Once upon a time there was a lonely Princess with a heart made of glass.  To keep her fragile heart safe she was put away in a high keep, with a hall to part her from the world.  This keep was located between two villages, Sure Wood and Raw Was.  Inside of the keep she lived alone with none to keep her company.  Only one man would be allowed to visit her, the one with whom she truly shared her heart.
            Everyday she sat alone and surveyed the two towns.  She dreamt of what her true love might be.  Would he be strong, smart, or charming?  She occupied her time with day dreams and personalized fairytales while she waited for her prince to be.
            One day a hunter came along.  He was strong and sure with his hands.  To her he said, “Greetings, fair maiden.”
            “Hello sir hunter,” she responded, her voice quite merry, “What business do you have at my keep today?”
            “The business I have is you, fair maiden.  I have come for you on this eve.”
            “And for what reason have you come for me, sir hunter?”
            “To be your prince,” he said.  “By telling you of my strong hands and keen eye, and I will use them both to pluck the string on the bow of love.  My arrow shall find its mark upon your breasts, where it might strike your heart.”
            “Well, sir knight, I fear to say that with those words you have missed your mark.”
            “What mean you?”
            “I mean that I am no target to be shot, nor trophy to be had.  My heart belongs to only to the one who will cradle it as a precious jewel, and you shall not do that.  So I ask that you leave me here, so that I might find a suitor more suitable.”
            The hunter obeyed, as his arrow had missed.  He left into the sun, his head hung low.
            Some time passed and for a short while the Princess feared that she would forever be alone.  Then one day lady luck smiled upon her and brought to her a wayfarer.  He was far different from the hunter, not so burly and rugged.   Instead of a bow he brought with him stories from foreign lands.
            “Greetings, fair princess,” he said upon sight.
            “And greetings, sir wayfarer.  What business do you have at my keep today?”
            “I have come to explore the vast crevices of your heart, fair maiden, and leave with the wealth of knowledge that rest inside.”
            She laughed at him.  “And how, good sir, do you intend to enter this maiden’s heart with out first the permission.”
            “I will win your permission, fair maiden.”
            “How so?”
            “For I have seen the world while you have not.  I will regale you with stories of the outside world that you have only dreamt of.”
            “May I have an example of such stories?”
            The wayfarer told her of his time spent in a land filled with ire.  He explained to her the customs, and his adventures there.  He expounded about the sights and symbols he found.  At first she was raptly attentive, but soon she lost interest.  As night neared she yawned.
            “Why do you yawn, fair maiden,” the wayfarer asked, “do my stories no longer have your heart?”
            “It is not the stories, sir, but the story teller.  You hope to win my heart through stories of your travels, but in your attempt you have made me realize this is not the way of love.”
            “What do you mean?”
            “Love is not merely built off of a past.  It is built off of the future, as well. You see my heart only as another road to walk, not for the blessing that it is.  I cannot afford you any more time, sir wayfarer, so please leave so that I may find my true love.”
            The traveler left with a sad story of how her heart was not won by his words.  Again the Princess was alone, and her heart grew ever more darkened from the solitude.  She sat alone for days with out anyone to talk to.
            One day a theatre troupe came into town.  All day the Princess listened to the sounds of laughing children and enthralled audience.  She heard the voice of a strong male, most likely the lead in their little charade.  For days she listened to this voice, curious about the man who held it.
            Three days after the troupe arrived the Princess was watching the moon.  The activity died down for the night, and she heard a voice call out to her.  It was the strong voice she had heard for night after night.
            “Greetings, fair princess,” the voice said.  She looked down to find a young actor, dressed in strange clothing.  He was handsome in a way, though his head was comically large and his legs comically small.
            “Greeting, sir thespian, what business do you have at my keep’s walls?”
            “I have come to speak with you.”
            “Then do so,” she instructed.
            For days he would return to her after the shows and he would speak.  Everyday he spoke a little bit less and soon the Princess realized that they were not meant to be.  Eventually both were quiet in the last night, and both were uninterested.   The next day he left unannounced, and she was left very sad.  Even though there was no connection between the two she was still sad and afraid, for she did not want to spend her life alone.
            More days passed, and with each day she grew ever sadder.  Finally another man came to her window, though this one was less a man and more a boy.  He was a youthful prince.  His youth and status enticed her, and as did her own desperation for a happily ever after.
            “Greetings, sir prince,” she called, “what business have you here today?”
            The prince smiled arrogantly, “Today I am here to have you hand, fair Princess.”
            “My, sir prince, aren’t you upfront?  Well you cannot have my hand, sir, until you can hold my heart as well.”
            “Then I shall have both.”
            The two spoke for days after that.  The days grew to weeks, and the weeks to a handful of months, and nothing seemed to be apparently wrong.  He would show up at mid-day and leave just before night, and the two would talk all of those hours.  They had little in common, but the Princess didn’t care.  She only saw in him a waning chance for happiness.
            Each day he came steps closer to her keep, and thus steps closer to her heart.  Finally he made it to the keep’s door.  The princess would have her happy ending, or so was the plan.  But at her door way she could finally see him close, and inside of him she saw no good.  She caught a scent from him, and it was the scent of another woman.
            “Sir prince, what is the meaning of this smell.”
            The prince did not respond, he merely left her there.  The Princess’ heart shattered.  She retreated into her keep and swore never to return to the outside world.  All she did for days was sob controllably, her heart broken into small slivers and shards.
            Her tears elicited the curiosity of a young Pixie.  He flew to the base of her keep and looked in through the doorway.  The one who cried was no where to be found.
            “Greetings, fair maiden,” the Pixie called, “may I borrow your ear?”
            “No, detestable man, you cannot.  I shall not give you my ear, nor my heart for a target, nor my time for a story, nor will I be a short-term pleasure, nor a trophy at all.  You cannot have anything from me, sir, because you cannot have my heart, as it has been shattered.
            “How is that,” the Pixie asked.  The Princess did not respond.  He waited there for her response all day, and at night he slept.
            The next day he woke to find no one there for him.  Again he called, “Please, fair Princess, tell me how it is that your heart became shattered.”  He waited from sun up to sun down but she gave him no response.  Again he slept before her keep.
            He woke the third day to find her at her window, her face streaked with tears.  “Hello, beautiful maiden,” he said, but she did not seem amused.  “Please, fair Princess, tell me how it is that your heart became shattered.”  Again she did not respond.  The Princess just watched the Pixie all day.  That night he slept before her keep for the third time.
            He woke on the forth day to find her still staring.  “Greetings, fair Princess,” he called, but she offered no response.  “Please, fair Princess, tell me how it is that your heart became shattered.”
            “I refuse,” the Princess said, and she retreated into her keep haughtily.  The Pixie waited all day for her to return but she did not.  For the forth night in a row he slept before her keep.
            On the fifth day he woke, and she was again watching him.
            “Please, fair Princess, tell me how it was that your heart became shattered.”
            Finally the Princess conceded.  Through thick tears she detailed everything that happened to her heart.  “First there was a hunter who saw my heart only as a target.  Next there was the wayfarer, who saw my heart only as a road untraveled.  Next was the player, who saw my heart only as a momentary distraction.  Last was the prince, who saw me only as a toy to use and break.  There you go, young Pixie, who sees my heart only as another silly joke.
            The Pixie balked at her accusation.  “That is not true, my Princess.”
            “Of course it is, now be gone with you, silly pest.  I have no more time to waste with your kind.”  She left him there to retreat into her keep and wail in sadness.  The Pixie waited for her return but she did not come back that night.  Again he slept.
            On the sixth day he woke to find her watching him.
            “Pray tell, sir Pixie, what do you want from me?”
            “Love.”
            “What do you mean?”
            “I mean that I only want to hear your voice and have you hear mine.  I wish to look into your eyes, for they make even the stars themselves appear as only a dull shimmer. I want to hold your hand and feel its texture on my flesh, and to hold you close so as to feel your heart beat for a moment.  I want to bring you all the pleasure this world knows, Earthly and transcendent.  My goal is a simple one, Princess. I aim only to love you.”
            The Princess stared at him, her disbelief apparent.  “Your silver tongue weaves a lie, sir.”
            “I assure you, Princess, this is no lie.  Trust me as you have the others, and give me the chance to hold your heart.”
            “You would not want it, Pixie, for it is broken.”
            “I care not for whether your heart is broken or healthy.  All I care about is that it is your heart that I have.”
            “Your words are charming, but how can I trust you?”
            “If you give me the chance, Princess, I will mend your heart.”
            “Sincerely?”
            “Princess, for you would I move the stars if you were to wish it.  For you I would face a horde of dragons, I would expel any ghoul, expunge any ghost, and slay any evil.  For you would I wrestle my own shadow and slay it and yes, I would even mend your heart, no matter how long the process took.”
            The Princess began to cry.  She unlocked the door to her keep and ushered him in.  The Pixie moved slowly to give her time to change her mind.  Inside she waited for him, unsure of her decision.  He came inside and they met eye to eye.  Magic lined the air.  He was an enchanted creature with impish eyes and a devilishly sweet mouth.
            “How might you mend my fractured heart, Pixie.”
            “A kiss,” he said simply.  “A kiss of true love can mend any injury, this is a truth well known.”
            The Princess had small tremors.  He held her hand and a shock ran through her every muscle, her every nerve.  “I am unsure,” the Princess said.  Her voice shook.
            “Trust me,” said the Pixie with the smile of a scamp.  He slipped his arm around her womanly hips and drew her in.  His smell wafted over her, and she felt a strange warmth awash her.
            The Pixie and the Princess kissed.  The contact of her lips was divine.  A new star was born from their very first contact.  It lasted for a brief moment, but it felt an eternity.  When their kiss ceded she found herself happier.  As he had promised her heart had been mended, and as she promised she gave him her heart forever more.
            From that day on the two lived together.  Sometimes they would visit the towns near by, or they would travel to see the world together.  They were a queer couple, the Princess and the Pixie, but they were evenly matched in wits.  And so from then on they lived happily ever after.

~ Fin

P.S.

 So, this is part of my Valentine's Month thing for my blog. See, since I'm single this year I am uploading stories that I gave as gifts or were otherwise romantic stories. This story was given to my most recent ex at the six month point of our relationship. While it might be sad to hear that the Pixie and Princess didn't live happily ever after together, keep in mind that our stories aren't over, and our happily ever after is still out there. Thanks for reading.