The Princess and the Barbarian

A fairy tale written for the author's own daughter.

Once upon a time there was a little princess named Violet, who lived with her grandmother in a little cottage in the woods, far away from the castle.  She could not live in the castle, you see, because the year that she was born there had been a war between two kingdoms, the Barbarian King from Ahai'insha, who worshiped the bloody god Insha'ii, and  her father, the good King Wallace of the kingdom of Premaria, who worshiped the Gentle Goddess.  But the Barbarian king had been strong, and he came down upon Premaria with men on elephants and tigers, with flaming arrows, and her father had been captured, and her mother, too, and her grandmother had only just escaped with the newborn princess, by disguising herself as a peasant woman and hiding the baby in a wheelbarrow full of old rags, while the kingdom burned and was reborn in the image of Ahai'insha.

And so Princess Violet grew up in the cottage in the woods, and she had a mother cat with a litter of kittens, and a big friendly yellow dog, and a lovely garden to play in, with flowers that grew up so tall that the cottage was hidden from view.  Their little home was so perfectly situated that they rarely needed to leave it. There was a well and a spring that supplied fresh, cool water, and a garden to grow their food, and on the rare occasion that they did need to leave the safety of their home, the grandmother would dress Princess Violet up in a boy's breeches and tucked all her lovely, long, red hair underneath a little cap and warn her to not breathe a word to anyone, or else she would be kidnapped.  

And so this went on, and Princess Violet hated to go into the town, because it was scary, with lots of buildings burned to shells, and barbarians on black horses rode around, terrorizing the poor village folk, but she was just a little girl, and her grandmother didn't care to leave her alone, so she had no choice but to go along. 

One day, while the grandmother haggled with a silk weaver in the market, the little princess wandered away, where she chanced upon some children, playing in the street.  Violet had little experience with children, as she had grown up with only her grandmother, but it looked so fun that she ran up to play with them. 

It was a ragged mix, with boys and girls in both the brown rags of the village folk, and the sleek black uniforms of the barbarians, with red sashes on their chests. 

"Can I play with you?" she asked. 

"Sure," said the leader, the smallest of the boys in the black regalia with dark metal circlet on his head.  He may have been the smallest, but everyone stepped back to let him speak, because he was important, "What is your name?" 

Violet didn't know how to answer this question, because she did not know many boy's names, and Violet was not a boys' name at all.  The only man's name she knew was that of her father, and that was the name she gave. 

"My name is Wallace," she replied.  

"Huh.  That was name of that old king my father defeated.  How unlucky for you.  My name is Dorian, and I am the prince." 

The little princess found herself in a terrible fix.  She wanted to play with the children, but if Dorian said he was the prince than his father had taken her father, and if that was so, she couldn't possibly be friends with him.  But she was very clever, and so, quick as a viper, she shot out her hand and grabbed that circlet off his head and said, "Not anymore you aren't!" and she ran down the street and the children gave chase shouting, "Wallace is the pri-ince! Wallace is the pri-iince!"  until another child caught her and took it from her, and so the game continued, until Dorian regained his own crown.  

"That was a fine game!" he told Violet, clapping her on the shoulder, "Won't you come and play again?" 

And Violet said of course she would.  

"Where do you live?" asked Prince Dorian. 

And Violet, being an honest child, and having no other basis to make up a lie anyway, said, "In the hidden cottage deep in the woods just east of here, with my grandmama," 

And then, at the sound of her name, the grandmother appeared the cloud of fury, scolding, "You naughty boy! How dare you run from me like that!" and took the princess away.  

After that trip, all Violet could think about was going back to the village. It was so fun to play with the children, and Prince Dorian was such a handsome boy.  Even if his father was perfectly wretched, she didn't think she could blame the son for the war.  Why, he looked younger than she was, and how could a baby, or a child unborn be to blame for a war? 

She begged her grandmother to go back to the village.  She broke the teapot and spilled the wine, and fed her apron into the fire, in an attempt to create an excuse for a new excursion.  But the grandmother was unrelenting, and soon she became angry with her for breaking so many things that she boxed her ears and called her a wanton little heathen, and sent her out into the garden. 

So Violet wandered around the perimeter of the garden, looking for a way out.  She knew that she could not reach the lock on the door, but presently, she found a gap in the foliage that was just big enough for a young girl to slip through, and she started down the path.  She skipped at first, and stopped to smell the primroses and watch a rabbit nibble at some thistle.  Then she found a blueberry bush and ate some berries.  She dabbled her feet in the stream and let the tadpoles tickle her toes.  

But it was a long way to the village, and soon she grew tired and lay down to rest on a mossy rock and fell asleep.  

When she awoke, it was very dark, and she heard a strange sound on the wind; a terribly weeping and wailing, and she was frightened.  

"Who is there?" she cried out. 

And there was a great deal of crashing and splashing and crying.  

"I said, who is there?!" she said again. 

And the figure came out of the shadows into the moonlight. It was a small figure, and at first, Violet thought it a gnome or a dwarf, but soon she saw it was a little boy.  In fact, it was prince Dorian. 

"Why, Prince Dorian!  Whatever are you doing out here?" she asked. 

"How do you know my name?" asked the prince. 

Quite forgetting that the prince only knew her as a boy called Wallace, Violet reminded him of their game. 

"But that was a boy!" he said. 

"Oh, no, it was me," said Violet, pulling her hair back from her face, "I was only dressed as a boy because my grandmother said that if people knew who I was, I would be kidnapped," 

But why would you be kidnapped? said the prince.  

"Because I am Princess Violet, and my father WAS King Wallace, and your father would be angry to find me. He did attack my family when I was just a baby not able to walk, and has hurt my kingdom so badly.  Tell me, Prince Dorian, is my father still alive?  And what about my mother?  Why did your father do all of this?" she said. 

"What?  You're the princess?  My father said you were ugly, with big bucked teeth and no eyebrows and a nose like a pig!"  said Dorian. 

"How silly," said Violet, "I am not like that at all.  But why, Dorian, why did your father attack my father?"  

"I don't know," said Dorian, "Grown-up business, I suppose.  I wasn't even born when it happened.  My father just says that he came bringing the light to the heathens, and that he had to teach them the Way, and since they were slow to learn, it was a hard and bloody lesson," 

"What is the light? What is the way?" asked Violet. 

"The way of Ishna'ii" said Dorian, "He is god, with fierce cat o' nine tails, and he whips the unbelievers into submission."

"What?" said Violet, "That is quite dreadful.  We don't have an Insha'ii, we have the Gentle Goddess, who breathes life into everything, and knows every flower by name," 

"That's barbarism, my father says," said Dorian. 

"It is not! At least the Gentle Goddess never burned anyone's city to the ground and killed their parents!"  said Violet, angry. 

"Your parents aren't dead," said Dorian, looking insulted. 

"Oh aren't they?" snapped Violet, lording her superior height over the boy, "Then where are they?"

"In the dungeon," said Dorian, "they've been there for ten years." 

And Violet began to cry.  She covered her face with her hands and fell to her knees.  Prince Dorian, being a boy, and unused to crying (he wasn't even crying in the woods, he would tell you now) was quite shocked.  

"Violet! Don't cry!"  he said.  

"Well what do you expect me to do?  All my life, I've thought my parents dead, and now I find out they're alive, and locked in some horrid dungeon! You would cry, too!"   wept Violet. 

 

Dorian was a barbarian by birth, but not in nature, and he hated to see the princess weep, and, having learned about the gentle goddess, he began to think that perhaps his father had been wrong to mow down this gentle people.  He took her by the hand. 

"You're right, I think.  Perhaps I would cry, if it were me.  And if I were a girl," he said, "Why don't you come with me, and we will talk to my father?"  

The princess agreed.  Dorian very much hoped that his father, who usually indulged him, would do so again.   The two walked all night long until they reached the gates, where the guards let the little prince and the young girl in without question and Prince Dorian strode into the throne room, where his father and mother sat eating their breakfast.  

"Ah! My son! Tell me, boy, what have you done today?"  said the king. 

"I have gone into the woods, father, and I have found a sleeping princess, and brought her back with me to be my bride," he said, gesturing to Violet, who curtsied nicely.  

"And how do you know she is a princess?" said the barbarian king.  

"Because she told me so," said the prince, "She told me that she is the daughter of King Wallace, whom you have locked in the dungeons. She told me of her people's gentle goddess, and father, I must say, I think it's dreadful what you have done!" 

And the barbarian king stood up so quickly he overturned his tray and ordered the guards to seize Princess Violet and take her to the dungeons.  

"Oh, you're horrible! You're HORRIBLE!" cried Violet as they dragged her away. 

 

"Father, " said Dorian, " If you don't release Violet and King Wallace and his wife right now, I shall never speak to you again.  This is wicked! What right did you have to say that your god was better than theirs or anyone else's? What right, I say!" 

And the king listened to the screams of a child echoing down the hall, and looked at the anger in his own son's eyes and wondered how it would have been had it been the other way around, and had King Wallace descended upon them, and he knew that his son was right.  He wept most bitterly and tore off his crown and sash, and ordered the release of all the prisoners, including the king and queen.  And he gathered his men and the left for their native lands. 

King Wallace and his wife were so happy to see their daughter well, they kissed her and sent a page for the grandmother, who was quite relieved to see her granddaughter well, and they rebuilt the burned out churches and homes. 

 

Six more years passed, and one day, a messenger in black arrived with a scroll for the king.  In it was a marriage proposal for Prince Dorian and Princess Violet.  The king was wary.  

"Tell me daughter," he said, "is it your wish to marry this boy?" 

And the princess said it was her deepest wish and that she had longed for him since the day they first met.  So the king send back his approval and the two were wed.  With this union and the joining of kingdoms, there was true peace, with churches for the Gentle Goddess across the street from the temples of Ishna'ii, and the people in black living and working with the people in brown. 

And they lived happily ever after.