Work Text:
There once was a girl whose happiness was tied to the sun.
As it rose, so did she, and her smile was like a beam of light.
As it set, so did she, and her frown cast shadows on her face.
One day, darkness descended over the world she knew. The sun was hidden from her sight, her heart, and her mind, either just past the horizon or covered by swirling clouds that roiled and poured their tears over the land. Sometimes it would return, and thus did her happiness return, but it was always temporary, always fleeting.
After many miserable days and nights, though how many was hard to discern with the absence of the sun, she turned to her love and asked of him a favor.
“Anything for you, my dear,” the boy said.
“Bring me the sun. Bring me the sun so I can hold it in my garden, and have it always, and be happy forevermore.”
Her love turned pale, and stood silent for a long moment. “I do not know if I can,” he replied, shaken. “But I will try.”
The boy set out to bring her the sun, but soon found this to be an impossible task. Its realm was not meant for mortal beings to tread, and he had his doubts that it even existed. He could not simply capture it in a box in the way his love wished. So, he tried to capture its essence in other ways.
He returned to her after a week, carrying a glass jar in his hand.
“Have you brought me the sun?” the girl asked him.
“No, but I have brought you its light.” He held out the jar. “I have kindled and tamed flickering fire as bright as little stars, the flames of which shine sunlight that can beat back the harsh shadows over your eyes. Place this jar at your bedside table and you will always keep happiness in sight. Does this please you, my dear?”
“Yes,” she sighed, “but I cannot be truly happy, for I do not have the sun.”
The boy set out a second time and returned after a fortnight, carrying several potions on his belt.
“Have you brought me the sun?” the girl asked him.
“No, but I have brought you its energy.” He held out a potion. “I have made bargains with witches for brews made of flowers and herbs and other growing things, the leaves of which store sunlight that can revive the dull stillness in your chest. Down a potion every day and you will always keep happiness at heart. Does this please you, my dear?”
“Yes,” she sighed, “but I cannot be truly happy, for I do not have the sun.”
The boy set out a third time and returned after a month, carrying several worn books in his satchel.
“Have you brought me the sun?” the girl asked him.
“No, but I have brought you its warmth.” He held out a book. “I have searched the libraries of the earth for knowledge of passion and kindness, the teachings of which spread sunlight that can thaw the numb coldness atop your brow. Study these books well and you will always keep happiness in mind. Does this please you, my dear?”
“Yes,” she sighed, “but I cannot be truly happy, for I do not have the sun.”
The boy set out again, but in despair. He had done all he could think of, but his love still did not have the happiness she sought. He wandered for a year, fruitlessly searching for a solution, even searching for a path to the realm of the sun, but finally, he was forced to return to the girl with nothing at all.
“Have you brought me the sun?” the girl asked him.
“No, and I cannot.” He held out his open palms. “I have brought you its light, its energy, and its warmth, but the sun is unattainable, unreachable. And perhaps it will never return to these lands.”
A shadow fell over the girl’s eyes, a stillness grew in her chest, and a coldness settled atop her brow.
“Then that is it,” she sighed. “Happiness will remain far from me, like the sun beyond the horizon.”
“No,” her love replied. He kissed her forehead. “You may not have the sun, and you may never again, but you have a jar, potions, books, and me. And together, we can help you find happiness in the dark.”