Prompt: A retelling of a fairytale
January 21, 2018
Once, long ago, in a far off land, there lived a little girl, who was very lonely. She lived with her mother, grandmother, and aunt, and although they were gentle, kind and loving, they weren’t much fun to the child, whose name was Gerda.
The land where Gerda lived was covered by ice and snow. You see, while many children have never seen a deep snow, Gerda had never seen green grass. To see a warm spring was the girl’s greatest wish.
One day, Gerda had been sent to the store, for bread and milk, and had been given a little change so that she could buy herself a little treat or trinket. So, bundling herself into her heavy cloak and pulling her shoes on over her thick woollen socks, Gerda left.
When she arrived to the store, she asked the storekeeper to get her the bread and milk, then began looking around a bit for a trinket she could take home. Her eyes lit upon a mirror, scarcely bigger than the palm of her hand, that could open and shut like a locket.
“Sir?” she asked the shopkeeper, “How much for the little mirror?”
He looked where she pointed, then laughed. “For you, Gerda, its free.” He brought it from its case, still chuckling. “The person who gave it to me said that this mirror has eyes in the Snow Queen’s palace.”
“The Snow Queen?” Gerda had never heard of such a person.
“Of course! Has your old grandmother never told you why it’s always so cold?”
The girl shook her head, taking the mirror from him, and relishing the feel of the cool metal against her palm.
“The Snow Queen, angry with a princess of our kingdom for marrying and stealing away her only son, cursed our land to forever be as cold as her palace.”
“She sounds frightening.” Gerda shivered, despite the fire roaring in the store.
“Aye,” the shopkeeper agreed. “There are rumors that she steals little boys as soon as they are born, to regain her long lost son. She is immortal, you know.”
Gerda had not known, but nodded politely. “What does she do when she realizes that they will never replace her son?”
The shopkeeper shook his head, and there was a gleam in his eyes that lingers in the eyes of all storytellers when they’re about to share an eeriest bit of the story. “No one knows. Some say she eats them. Others say that she keeps them as her slaves. I’ve even heard tell that she raises them until they grow of age, then marries them and attempts once more, to have her own child. No one knows, save the stolen boys.”
Gerda shuddered, unsure what to say.
“Well, have a good evening, Miss Gerda!”
“Yes, good evening, sir.”
When Gerda got home, she went to her grandmother. “While I was at the store, the shopkeeper told me that the reason we never see green grass or spring, is because of a woman called the Snow Queen.”
“Pah!” spat her grandmother with a laugh. “Old wives tales! Surely you don’t believe that load of crock.”
“Well–” but Grandmother just shook her head, so Gerda felt she should say no more.
∞
That night, nestled under her covers, Gerda gazed upon her new treasure, wondering if it could possibly be true that this mirror could see into the Snow Queen’s palace. Upon this thought, she fell asleep.
As she slept, she dreamed herself far away, in a palace made of ice as smooth as glass. She ran her fingers along the walls, but felt no chill. Then, she heard a sound as if someone was crying.
She followed the mournful cries, until, at last, she turned and found a boy her age, kneeling in front of a frozen lake, sobbing.
“Why are you crying?” Gerda’s voice echoed through the ice walls.
The boy looked up, startled. “Who are you?” he asked, though oddly, his voice did not echo.
Gerda started to answer, then stopped. She was unsure what had stopped her, but she knew she must not tell him her real name, because of who might be listening. “My name is but a sound, blown in the wind.”
There was a smile lit in his eyes, but his mouth never changed. “My name is Kay. C-can you truly hear and see me?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Can you save me? I won’t be free until I can spell the word ‘eternity.’ Can you help me spell it?”
“Oh, of course. E-T-E-R-N-I-T-Y.” Gerda had always been praised for her spelling skills.
He shook his head. “No, no, I know the letters. I have to make the ice form the word. Can you come over here and help me?”
Gerda took a few steps toward the boy, but found that no matter how many steps she took, she could get no closer to him. “No, I can’t. Where are we?”
He looked at her as though she had gone mad. “We are in her palace.”
“Her? The Snow Queen?”
His panicked eyes answered her question.
“How did you get here?”
“I...I don’t know, it’s all I can remember.”
She supposed he wouldn’t know how she got there either. “Is there a way to leave other than by spelling eternity?”
She never got an answer. The boy named Kay froze, and Gerda awoke, kicking her covers off. A glance out the window told her it was still night. Looking down at the small mirror, she wondered if that had something to do with her odd dream.
She rested her head on her pillow once more, and fell back asleep. This time, she had a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
∞
The entire next day, Gerda was filled with thoughts of the boy she had met in her dream. Finally, she went to her aunt, who was busily crocheting an afghan for a little baby, born to their neighbor just a few days ago.
“Auntie?”
“Yes, dear one?”
“I’m going to go for a very long walk.”
“In this cold? Silly girl, you know no one goes for walks in this weather!”
Gerda lowered her eyes, and whispered softly, “I need to rescue a boy from the Snow Queen.”
Her aunt looked up, her eyes wary. “The Snow Queen isn’t real, Gerda. The Snow Queen is just an old wives’ tale, and you, Gerda, are not an old wife.”
Gerda crossed her arms. “I think she is real. And there is a boy in her ice palace who needs my help.”
Auntie took a deep breath. “I can’t stop you, can I? I see it in your eyes.”
Gerda tightened her jaw, and shook her head. “I have to go rescue him.”
“But you don’t even know the way,” Auntie argued.
“I’ll find it. Just tell Mama and Grandmother not to worry about me.”
“But, Gerda, how could we not worry about you?”
The little girl shrugged, and began pulling on her heavy coat.
“Gerda, wait.” Auntie set her crochet aside. “If you must go...I need to give you something to keep you safe.”
Gerda put on her shoes and waited patiently. Finally, her aunt found what she’d been looking for. She fastened the heart shaped locket around little Gerda’s neck.
“I was given this locket long ago,” she told her niece quietly. “I was told it would keep me safe, and it has. Now, I give it to you, so you will stay safe. It has enchanted rose petals inside it. My grandmother grew them years ago.” Her brow furrowed with worry. “Are you sure I can’t convince you not to leave?”
“I have to go, Auntie.”
Sadly, her aunt nodded, but seemed to understand.
And so, Gerda left with her aunt’s locket and set out on her own to find the Snow Queen’s palace. She walked carefully across the frozen river, for something deep inside her said that the Snow Queen lived on the other side.
Then, there was a mighty crrrrack! The ice broke out from under Gerda’s tiny feet, and she plunged into the frigid waves that flowed freely under the ice. The child screamed as she sank.
She felt her head knocking against the ice above, but couldn’t find the place where she had fallen in. The water rushed into her nostrils, and it was all poor little Gerda could do to keep from breathing it in. Clutching at the locket from her aunt, she felt certain she would die.
Discouragement washed over the child. She had already failed. She had barely begun her quest, but had failed. Her poor mother. Her poor auntie and grandmother. Then, a thought began to prick at her.
It was a foolish thought. Silly, even. But the more it pricked at her, and the more desperate she grew, the better an idea it seemed. She reached down and tore at her shoelaces, until she could kick her shoes off into the water, hoping the river would understand. Her shoes were a peace offering, a plea to the river to free her from the ice.
The offering seemed to work, because Gerda found herself hauled roughly from the frozen lake, and enfolded in a warm cloak.
“Oh you poor child!” An old woman rubbed Gerda’s back as she coughed and gasped for breath.
Now, Gerda didn’t know this, but the old lady who pulled her from the river was an old, lonely witch. She longed for someone to keep her company throughout the eternal winter. Who better to keep an old woman company than an innocent young girl?
And thus, Gerda went to be with the witch.
This witch took wondrous care of Gerda, showing her all throughout her greenhouse, and teaching her about every manner of flower, save the roses, which she hid deep in their pots.
You see, when the witch had seen Gerda’s locket, with the rose petals in it to protect her, she had taken it away, and hid anything that could remind the child of her former life. Then, she brushed the tangles from Gerda’s hair, and with them her memories.
When it’s said that she hid all roses, that isn’t quite true. She’d forgotten to hide one rose–the one on her hat.
For awhile, Gerda was content to play in the greenhouse and warm herself by the fire with the old witch, but soon, she grew restless. One day, as she looked up into the witch’s face, she saw the roses, and remembered her quest.
In the dead of the night, she gathered her belongings, including her auntie’s locket, and left.
Along the pathway, Gerda saw a tall, glistening palace, just a few miles away. Her heart sung. It was certain to be the Snow Queen’s palace! So, the child hiked up her skirts, and ran toward the palace.
To her dismay, the shining palace was not made of ice. It was made from shiny stones, coated in ice and snow from the years of eternal winter. But, with no place to go, and no idea what would happen next, she walked up to it.
Her eyes widened as she grew closer and took in a beautiful carriage drawn by two giant white horses. It was surrounded by a great throng of people.
“What’s going on?” she asked a young man who stood alone, watching with a somber expression.
He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How could you not know? The princess was just married. She and the prince are leaving for their honeymoon today.” Then he turned away.
Gerda didn’t know exactly what propelled her to walk up to the carriage. There were gasps and shouts as she grew nearer, but no one was brave enough to run and pull her back.
“Well hello, little girl.” Soft chuckles rang in Gerda’s ears, and she looked up into the face of a young, golden haired woman who could only be the princess.
“Hello, Your Highness.” Gerda curtsied. “You’re going on your honeymoon?”
The princess laughed. “Yes, I am. And what are you doing?”
“I’m going to the Snow Queen’s palace, to find a boy named Kay.”
“I see.” The princess seemed amused.
“Maybe if I rescue Kay, the Snow Queen will end the forever winter.”
Her words struck the heart of the princess with longing. She herself had never seen green grass, and had often wondered what it would be like.
Taking Gerda aside, she gave her money to purchase new boots and a new coat. “If you can save us from this winter, do it.” Then, the princess took her own gloves off, and gave them to little Gerda.
Gerda was off again, heading to the north.
The child grew weary, so found a warm cave in the midst of the ice and snow, and curled up to sleep. She clutched her little mirror in her hand as she slept, and once more, dreamed of the Snow Queen’s palace.
“Kay, I’m back!” she called out.
The boy named Kay didn’t look up.
“Kay?”
Kay ran his bare hands along the ice, trying to spell out the word eternity, but failing at every point. The word ‘failure’ formed itself. Then, ‘pain.’ Word after word formed from the ice. Rejected. Death. Mockery. But never the word ‘eternity.’
Gerda tried to run to him, but stopped short when she heard harsh, tapping footsteps coming along the corridor. Ducking behind a frosty curtain, she watched as a tall, beautiful woman strode toward Kay.
“Hello, Kay,” she said coolly, running a hand over the boy’s hair, leaving a dusting of frost.
He didn’t look up, or even acknowledge her presence.
“Sweet, Kay.” She crouched beside him. “Why must you sit by my lake day after day trying to spell eternity? All I want is a son. Come, live in the prince’s rooms, sit with me for dinner. Be my son.”
Kay’s lower lip trembled, and a tear slid down his cheek, but he did not answer.
“Kay, please, it’s all I ask of you. I don’t ask for much, do I? Your family, they couldn’t possibly love you as much as I do.”
Gerda felt a tickle in her nose. The tickle grew until it was a roar, and then, it exploded.
“What was that?” The Snow Queen spun around, and Gerda jerked awake.
The mirror lay shattered on the floor of the cave, and Gerda’s heart beat wildly. It was still dark, but Gerda felt pressed to leave. She ran from the cave, toward the north, until her breath came hard and short, and she collapsed in the snow.
Tears fell and froze in the snow. She had to rescue Kay. Why did she feel such a burden to rescue a boy that she had never met other than in a dream? She curled up in the snow, ready to die alone.
She barely noticed when strong arms lifted her from the snow and carried her to a wagon. She was wrapped in warm blankets, and laid beside a girl about her own age.
“Oh good, Papa, a pet!” The girl clapped happily. “I will name her Snowdrop, and shall keep her as my own.”
“Yes, dear, I’m sure you will,” her father agreed with a chuckle.
“I love her even more than my reindeer. More than my wildcat.” The girl stroked Gerda’s hair and hummed softly.
Too tired to protest, Gerda curled against the girl, and fell asleep.
When she awoke, the sun shone brightly in her eyes. Her boots and gloves were missing! However, upon further investigation, she found that the little girl from the night before was wearing them.
“Wh-why are you wearing my boots and gloves?” little Gerda asked.
“Because,” the other girl began, “I am your mistress and you are my pet. I can take whatever I want of yours.” The girl turned to a cage on the ground beside her, and pulled from it a small wild cat. “This is also my pet. You can pet him if you like.”
Gerda stretched her hand out, but the cat growled viciously, and she jerked her hand away. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay with you.”
The girl laughed. “You have to! You’re my pet!”
“But how can you keep a person as a pet?” Gerda asked.
“It’s simple,” the little girl answered, “I said you’re my pet so you’re my pet.”
“But I need to go to the Snow Queen’s palace and rescue a boy named Kay,” Gerda protested.
“Why do I care about Kay?”
“Because, if I can rescue Kay, maybe we could bring the forever winter to an end.” She took a deep breath. “If I can find and rescue Kay, I will come back and be your pet.”
The little girl pondered this, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. “Very well. You can go find Kay. I will keep your gloves and boots, but you can have my boots instead. They’re not nearly as fine, but are twice as warm. And I’ll even let you ride my reindeer for the rest of the distance.”
And so, Gerda put on the little girl’s boots, and mounted the reindeer.
The little girl stroked the reindeer softly, and whispered something in its ear, then slapped its rump. Gerda clung to the reindeer as it ran faster and further than Gerda had ever gone.
When it came to a stop, Gerda looked up and found herself in front of the hugest palace she had ever seen. And indeed, it was made of pure ice, glistening in the sunlight.
But now, as she dismounted and stood beside the reindeer, her arm wrapped around its neck, she wondered what she should do now. She couldn’t just walk up and walk in…could she? And yet, knocking seemed like a foolish idea as well.
“Just go in,” a soft voice whispered.
Gerda looked around, but saw no one but the reindeer.
“Just go.” It was the reindeer.
“But won’t she–“
“It’s worth a try.”
And so Gerda kissed the reindeer on the nose, and walked up to the palace. There was no door, per say, just a large opening where a door would have gone. She walked in. Bracing herself for a rush of guards, Gerda closed her eyes tight and waited a moment. To her surprise and relief, there were no guards.
Following the halls and corridors, Gerda set off in search of Kay. It didn’t take long. There he was, sitting by a pool filled with pieces of ice. As she had seen in her dreams, he tried to spell the word eternity, but the words would not form.
“Kay?”
As in her last dream, he did not look up, or even show any indication that he had heard her.
“Kay, it’s me, Gerda.” She grew close to him, and rested a hand on his shoulder. He was as cold as ice.
He moved pieces of ice around, trying to spell his freedom word. Gerda began to cry. She had come all this distance, left her family, just to try to rescue this strange boy, and he couldn’t be bothered to so much as look at her.
So great were Gerda’s sobs, that they called the Snow Queen from her throne room into the room with the ice pool. The giant woman rushed in, with a screech.
“Away from him! Away from him, you wicked little girl!”
Gerda crossed her arms stubbornly. “I won’t! I came so far to rescue him, and I won’t leave! I won’t!”
“He is my son now. He does not need rescued. Look at him, so cheerfully playing with the ice.’
“He isn’t happy! You can’t steal little baby boys and call them your son, just because you’ve lost yours!”
The Snow Queen’s face became very pinched. “How else am I to have a son? Who would marry the Snow Queen? Who would give her a child?”
“Don’t you see,” Gerda began earnestly, “you can’t replace your lost son, only love and remember him. Don’t make others feel your same pain!”
The Snow Queen paused. “No one has ever spoken to me in such a manner. No one has ever come to my palace, save the sons I’ve brought home to live with me.”
Gerda kept her hand on Kay’s icy shoulder. “Well I have. Let him come home with me.” It was not a request.
The Snow Queen fell to her knees, sobbing pitifully. “I cannot have him as my son, and I cannot free him to you. The laws of the pool are unchangeable. He must spell the word eternity, or he will be turned to ice. I will not have my son, and you will not have your friend.”
“Has this always been what you’ve done with the little boys you’ve stolen?”
The Snow Queen sobbed. “They are given the choice between choosing me as mother, or spelling the word eternity to free themselves. They always choose to spell eternity…and they always fail. All I want is my son.”
“But Kay is not your son,” Gerda said gently.
The Snow Queen nodded, and sat on the floor of her ice palace, crying softly.
Gerda took a deep breath, then went to the Snow Queen, wrapping an arm around her thin shoulders.
The Snow Queen looked up, surprised. “Child?”
“You cannot have your son back. None of these boys will replace him, not even in your heart. I don’t believe your heart is cold and hard at all, I believe it is sad.”
With that, the Snow Queen hugged the little girl tightly, then vanished, leaving nothing but snow behind.
Surprised, Gerda turned back to Kay, and tugged at his arm. “We can go now, Kay.” The boy didn’t move. “Kay?”
The piece of ice seemed to be laughing and dancing with joy, and they danced themselves to form a word. The freedom word. Eternity.
Kay looked up at his rescuer, and the ice palace began to collapse. Together, they ran from the palace, to the reindeer, who stood waiting patiently.
“I see you’ve retrieved your friend,” the reindeer said, looking Kay up and down. “Well, come on then, I’m sure you’ll both fit.”
The reindeer took Gerda and Kay past the little girl, who waved them on past, smiling happily. Then, they sped past the prince and princess, who were still on their honeymoon. They sped by the old witch and her greenhouse, and then, they were home.
Gerda took Kay into the house, cheering happily. “The Snow Queen is dead, and I’ve rescued Kay!”
“Kay?” Her auntie dropped her crochet, and ran to the children. “My Kay! My baby!” She folded Kay into her embrace, and he relaxed against her, as if he were an infant.
“Oh, Gerda, you frightened me so badly!” Her mother ran to her, embracing her. Then, turning to her sister, tears glistening in her eyes. “My child has left, and returned with your lost son.”
Gerda’s grandmother sat in her rocking chair, a twinkle in her eyes. “I don’t suppose anyone has seen my mirror, have they?”
“Grandmother?” Gerda asked.
Grandmother smiled serenely and said nothing.
Gerda turned back to her mother and aunt, and the boy she had brought home. “If you are Auntie’s son, that means you and I are cousins!”
Kay smiled brightly and embraced his new friend and cousin. “I’ve always longed for a friend and a family, and now I have both. I’ve returned home, to a place I never thought truly existed.”
Then, the family went outside, and found that they had no need of coats or shoes. The grass grew green, and little flowers were already beginning to bloom.
Gerda slipped her hand into her pocket where she had shoved the shattered mirror. There were no sharp edges. In fact, it seemed that the entire mirror was whole once more. Gerda turned to her grandmother.
“Grandmother, is this the mirror you were talking about?”
“Oh, Gerda, you found it! I was afraid I had misplaced it.” Then she winked, and Gerda knew the truth.
“No, Grandmother, I think you put it right where it needed to be.”
“Perhaps you’re right, little one…. Perhaps you’re right.”
©2018 Katie Holm
