Once upon a time two
princesses fell in love, during a time when things of this nature were not just
frowned upon, but punishable by death.
Caught in the woods
one day, holding hands and exchanging vows of the sort no one but the two of
them could ever truly understand or value, the girls listened in fear as their fathers
each made a vow of his own: they would be forever separated and kept in towers divided
by kingdoms until both recanted and agreed to marry princes of their parents’
choosing.
The slightly older of the two
girls, deeply protective and torn up with guilt, could not bear to see her
beloved taken away only to be banished until a worst punishment was pronounced.
She cried out that it was all her doing, that she had forced the younger one to
play along with her, that it was all one-sided and pure evil on her part.
No one, even those
who most hated and believed them to be sinners of the most unnatural kind,
could deny that the two shared a real love usually reserved for that between men and
women. Still, no amount of protesting would change the king’s mind.
That night, in the
tower, the older girl begged for someone to help.
Soon, a fairy
godmother, not her very own but one used by all in both kingdoms, appeared.
The
older princess asked for her beloved to be spared, adding that she would take
on both of their punishments if only the younger girl could be saved.
Agreeing
reluctantly, the fairy godmother warned that the older girl would indeed
suffer, suffer very much indeed, that that was the price of their true love.
Tears streaming down
her face, the older girl nodded eagerly, saying, “Anything, anything, that will
keep her from facing the worst.”
The fairy godmother’s
face took on an expression of peace and compassion. “Very well, then. Your
beloved, in order not to suffer, must have her memory completely wiped of you
and your time together, of your love together. She will not fall in love with
the prince she is to marry, but neither will she suffer from comparing him to
the love of her life. She will be neither happy nor sad, just accepting.”
The older girl had
hoped for more for the princess she loved so very much, but acceptance (she
supposed) was better than unhappiness. She nodded, less eagerly this time, but
just as determined.
“And what must I do
on my part?” She asked quietly.
“You, unfortunately,
my child, will remember everything, how much you love her, how much she loved
you, how your treasured times in each other’s company meant the world to both
of you. You will marry a prince and be miserable, but you will at least know
you spared the suffering and death of your most beloved.”
The older princess
continued to silently cry, then, when she could speak again, thanked the fairy
godmother, who smiled maternally and turned to go.
Halfway across the
room, she suddenly swiveled and faced the older girl once more. “There is one
more part to your end of the deal, my child.”
“Yes?” The single
word came out strangled and already worn and weary, as if a million years without her
true love had already gone by.
“You two will meet
again someday, in a far away place and time that is more accepting of your
love. Unfortunately, you will have
some sense of memory and love for her, a vague recollection of her wonderful
soul, but, of course, you will not recognize her future human incarnation. She,
however, will not remember one single second of your time nor of you and your
unreturned feelings for her will torment you unless you can prove yourself once
again worthy of her love.”
The older princess
brushed the backs of her hands against her eyes, looking like a little child. “I
do not understand.”
For the first time
since she’d arrived, the fairy godmother grew peeved. “What is not to
understand?”
“Well,” the older
princess hesitated, as if worrying she might appear ungrateful after all her rescuer had promised. “It hardly seems fair to have to start over again
after we will have already gone through so much in this lifetime.”
Now, the fairy
godmother just plain snorted, amazed at both the naivete and gall of the girl.
She was not so mad or unkind, though, that she couldn’t sense where the princess
was coming from. “Do you love her?”
“Very much so, fairy
godmother.”
“Well, then, my
child, you know what they say…all is fair in love and war. You will get your
day again and if all goes well and love perserves, your true love perseveres, then you will finally get the happiness
you two richly deserve. But remember: nothing good comes easily.”
The older princess
bowed and thanked the fairy godmother for all her help and long after she had
gone thought and thought and wondered about it all. Her heart and her head hurt
so much, but sleep was not an option, even if she could have found slumber.
So she thought some
more and remembered the early days of their friendship and how hard, how very hard,
they had tried to fight their growing romantic feelings…to no avail. And she
realized that as long as her princess was okay, as long there was even the
slimmest, tiniest, remotest, possibility of someday being together again, she
would go through anything…tower imprisonment, parental disproval, even marriage
(lasting God knows how many years) to a man she did not love.
Because, somehow,
somewhere, somewhen, she knew their day would come.
