King Snow, the Pure

Long ago, in a faraway land, an almost windowless stone tower stood in the center of a dark, black forest. It was rumored that inside this tower was a beautiful maiden named Rapunzel, being held captive in the upper recess of its rooms, and that whichever brave knight released her from her prison would have her hand in marriage and untold riches far beyond anyone could imagine.

Many brave knights and lads (and several princes) had entered the forbidding forest hoping to find this tower and free the maiden. None of these courageous men ever returned. It was as if the forest had swallowed them up whole, for the only thing ever found was the horses they rode off on.

No one was ever discouraged from trying. Hundreds upon hundreds entered every year. Some arrived with a small militia to go in with them. None. Ever. Returned.

Several rumors surrounded Rapunzel as to what she looked like. Some said she was just a lowly milkmaid held captive by an evil queen due to her luscious good looks. Others speculated that she was royal-born and was hidden away as a bargaining chip to lure prospective suitors. Some said she had beautiful luxurious locks in black; others said in gold. Each story matched differently. This differing story was no surprise to anyone, considering no one had ever returned who had seen her.

The same inconsistent rumors surrounded the fortune that was due to whoever succeeded. Rubies. Sapphires. Silver. Gold. Stock bonds. Whatever it was, it was supposed to equal the weight of the maiden and her savior. When they told the tale, each bard always said it was an exuberantly outrageous reward.

One day, a king arrived with ten men on the outskirts of the grim, hostile-seeming forest. He was from a far-off place in the north, some tiny little country no one knew the name of, but he was still a king. The whole village he stopped and geared up in was completely enamored of this king, seeing as they had never seen one before, and he was the most handsome man they’d laid eyes on.

This king had the blackest hair, fairest skin, and bluest eyes. He had a square jaw with a dimple in the middle of it. Broad shoulders sat atop a wider chest. The narrowest hips you ever did see. The finest specimen of a man.

The village saw the king and his troop off when they set off. They lined up on the road outside the town and wished them luck as they waved at them. Even a few women and children ran prepared food and flowers out to the men. Villagers paraded out of town, following behind almost to the entrance to the uninviting, creepy forest.

The king and his men disappeared into the spooky and ominous forest. They traveled for hours, but it was only one hour. Then the first of many tragedies happened. Two of the largest leopards ever seen jumped out of the tree, killing three men with a swipe of their humongous paws and running off with two more men they had injured. So only the king and five men were left.

They hadn’t even gone twenty passes before another man fell to his death in a pitfall. They had each passed the spot, and he was the last one to cross, which made matters more dangerous, seeing as they couldn’t trust anywhere anyone had stepped before them.

Another hour passed, and the king had lost three more men. The first to a tree branch falling on his head. The second was when a snake hiding on a tree branch struck and killed him. The third happened when they arrived at an ancient tower, and a stone fell on top of his head. Only the king and two of his men were left.

The last two men tried to climb the steep sides of the abandoned tower when a light came on in an upper window, and someone inside threw the contents of a chamber pot down on them, causing them to lose their holding. Since they were pretty high up, they broke several bones in the fall.

The king told the person he only wanted to talk to them.

A woman’s voice hollered that she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, or the witch would hurt them.

The king told Rapunzel that since he was here to save her, they weren’t strangers. But his name was King White the Pure.

Then the voice hollered back, Then you may come up.

She then threw the longest, thickest braid of golden hair, and he ran to it and started climbing up. On the way, he noticed several hairs of different colors mixed with pure blonde. Ignoring this small clue, he continued on his way.

Making it to the window, he pulled himself inside. The lights had been put out, leaving the interior in dusky gloom. Taking a moment for his eyes to adjust, the king stepped into the round room. Immediately, he noticed three hags standing before him.

Scoundrels, what have you done with the maiden, Rapunzel? he yelled.

What maiden, the hags cackled back.

That’s just the story we spread around to get fools like you to come to us. The taller of the three hags said.

Die! The king exclaimed, Die!

As he stepped forward, he tripped over a stool and fell, busting his head open on the hard stone floor.

The hags cackled some more. That worked perfectly, sister.

Couldn’t have done it better myself.

Hurry, hurry, get the knife. We don’t want this meat to go to waste, like the last one.

The last thing the king heard as he passed out was a knife being sharpened on a whetstone.

No one ever saw King White the Pure again.

And the hags lived happily ever after.