A Fairy Tale

this was written for school, believe it or not!
Morning in the mountains. Something to die for, Anitra whispered to herself, as she walked out along the dewy grass gathering wildflowers. She knew that in time she would have to go back into the gloomy house where her grandmother lay dying. Aase Nordraak had lived a full and wonderful life, but now she was dying, and Anitra had to rid herself of the feeling of death.

Still, Anitra thought of her grandmother. Grandmother loved the morning flowers, but could not see them in the windowless, stuffy hut. Anitra gathered the flowers in her hands, until her arms were full, fuller than ever before. One side of the meadow looked a little bare, still, what was the sacrifice if Grandmother could see the wildflowers one last time. Probably by this time tomorrow the other side would be bare, too.

Solvejg was calling Anitra now. "Nitra! Granny is dying. You must come immediately!"

Sorry to come in out of the sunshine, Anitra hurried in. The smell of pungent herbs, coupled with the smell of too many unwashed bodies made Anitra's stomach feel queasy. But she hurried to the cot in the corner.

"Granny? It's Anitra." She took the old lady's hands in her own.

"Nitty." That was Granny's special name for Anitra. Anitra came over. "Yes, Granny?"

"I smell flowers."

"Yes, Granny. See?" Anitra picked up the bouquet and laid it the old woman's hands. "They're fresh. I've just gathered them."

Granny didn't seem to say anything more. After awhile, Anitra carefully took the woman's pulse.

"Solvejg! Ingrid!" the two sisters came running. Ingrid, the eldest, put her arms around her little sister. Solvejg stood considering.

It was two months later. The sisters, living alone with their granny 'til her death, were out of house and home and knew not what to do. So Anitra, who was always a good dancer, danced and sang for money. Her dances were pretty, charming—everything that mostly was not about street dancers. When Anitra danced, she always imagined herself in a pure mountain clearing...

Like the one so near her home. Anitra knew that she would never see it again. It was just the way it was. And it made her sad.

Then one day, two roly-poly creatures showed up and asked to speak to the dancer. They were adorable little men, and Anitra really wanted to cuddle them. But their spears looked pretty sharp.

"Well, now," one of them drawled. "I've been thinking that maybe our king would like you to dance for him."

"You...what?" Anitra gasped. "No. No! That cannot be! That's completely impossible."

"It is true. He has seen you dance and he wants you to come. Don't you trust the king's personal messengers?"

"You? You look almost like teddy bears," Anitra said, rather scornfully.

The two men looked hurt. "Our king does not, I assure you. He is, well, handsome."

The two men began dancing and singing a song of the merits of their king.

"You are so weird," Anitra said.

"Weird?" Both of their lower lips began to tremble. A fat tear rolled down the fatter one's cheek.

"Oh, puh-leeze," Anitra wailed. "All right. I'll come."

"He is the best guy on this side of the world!!!" they both said. "You won't regret it!"

Anitra groaned. "I will see you, Solvejg. And you, Ingrid. I'm sure this can't last long."

"Just think, a real king!" Solvejg sighed. Ingrid swooned.

"Fat teddy bears and stupid older sisters!" Anitra grumbled.

The king was pleased to see Anitra. And he WAS handsome. And smart. His personal messengers were funnier when taken with a grain of salt and smart ones besides.

So when he asked Anitra to marry him, she said yes. That was fine, until the witch Hecate found out about it. You see, Hecate wanted her daughter to marry the prince. Now, Hecate was a witch, and her daughter Mahala was weak, and sick. Normally, Mahala was a nice girl, but she depended on her mother to get around and she naturally obeyed everything her mother said. So she sat at home, quietly sewing, waiting for her mother to strike.

And strike Hecate did. She did it in the utmost secerecy, not violent in the least...but poor Anitra was trapped. Hecate quickly knocked the young woman unconscious, and brought her to her home. "Now, Mahala," Hecate said, "you must go to the king on your own."

"But Mama—"

"You must. And then you will marry the king. It's our ticket out of here!" Hecate gestured to the hovel. Mahala shrugged.

"We don't really need to—"

"Ah, but wouldn't you like to move into a castle?"

Mahala actually didn't, but didn't dare say this to her mother. "Yes, Mama."

"Then you must work for it. Go, now, and wear this girl's clothes. I will enchant you by my magic, so you look like her."

Mahala went.

When Anitra woke up, she saw Hecate bending over here. "Ack! Who are you?" she cried.

"Morning, Mahala. I'm so glad to see you so strong."

"My name's Anitra, not Mahala..." Anitra ambled out of bed and looked around her in shock. Then, slowly, as the evening's events came back to her, she groaned.

"I have a headache." She went over to the basin by the mirror and splashed water on her face. Suddenly she stopped, stared into the mirror and screamed.

Mahala, in her normal state, had a very timid, mousy expression, gray eyes, and sandy hair. She actually looked like a very delicate flower. But it was quite a change from Anitra's blue eyes, black hair, and a very strong-willed look about her.

"What the heck has happened to me???" she demanded. "Who are you, and what are you doing?"

Hecate smiled. "I have enchanted my daughter to look like you, and you to look like her. Now your name is Mahala, until years after the wedding. I hope you like brown."

No color, to Anitra, was worse than brown, except in skin and in hair. But Mahala's life seemed to be brown. She opened her mouth and screamed—or tried to scream—"Help! Help! Help!" But her voice was only a whisper.

"What are you doing to me?" she demanded Hecate.

"You will not scream."

Anitra glared. "Sure I will." She ran past Hecate and hurried out of the house. Hecate followed in hot pursuit. Anitra looked back and screamed (out of the witch's cottage, that particular spell had no power), "Anitra, not Mahala!!!"

Hecate followed. "Come back, my daughter, come back!"

"I'll tell her that," Anitra answered. "For I am not your daughter!"

Hecate was running very fast. Anitra saw there was nothing to do but to stop her. Remembering that her granny had taught her some magic, she turned herself into a river. Hecate saw this and put her lips to it, to drink it. Anitra didn't like to think how she'd turn herself back inside Hecate, so she turned herself into a dog. Hecate turned herself into a bigger dog. Anitra changed to a falcon. Hecate turned herself into an eagle. But, of course, the falcon was fastest, so that was okay until Hecate managed to enchant Anitra so she couldn't fly at her fastest. Anitra hurriedly tried to fix this, remembering many magic spells as they came back to her, but it didn't work. Hecate was gaining closer, and closer...and suddenly the falcon disappeared.

First Hecate tried in front. Then behind. Then she checked to see if the falcon was on top of her somehow (anybody with any bit of sense will do that when confronted with a wily falcon). Then she decided that Anitra must have changed herself into something.

Anitra had. Anitra was one of the eagle's tail feathers.

Hecate flew farther, faster, and when it was time, Anitra turned into a bear and lumbered up the steep hill to the Mountain King's castle. The eagle tried to peck out the bear's eyes, but all of a sudden Anitra changed herself into a young woodsman. The young woodsman raised his gun, but the eagle also changed herself into an old woodsman. The two got into a fistfight. Anitra suddenly turned into an elf and ran up the rest of the hill, 'til she saw a young woman who looked like herself standing with the king in the garden. Quickly she changed herself into an engagement ring on the lady's finger. Hecate came up in the form of a moneylender and explained to the king that his betrothed owed him something—a ring. The king said that he would pay the debt, but the ring on his betrothed's finger was not coming off. The king, by the way, was magical, too, so he had figured out everything. Then he ordered the moneylender sentenced to death and had him beheaded. Mahala was actually kind of glad.

So Anitra married the king, and Mahala married his secretary and became keeper of the grounds. Both couples had a lot of children, and they all lived happily ever after.

But wait! I haven't finished the tale. Did I fool you? But it isn't finished yet, for I haven't told you what happened to Ingrid and Solvejg. Ingrid married a duke and became a duchess. And Solvejg became a singer and won a lot of contests, like "Mountain Kingdom Idol" and stuff like that.

And now they all lived happily ever after.