Work Text:
There once was a maid who lived in the woods with her mother, who was a powerful witch. She could bade the trees to bear them fruit, and deer to lay peacefully at their feet for slaughter. The maid had no magic herself, but was clever as any man, and had a tamed wolf she kept by her side. They led a happy life together, and could want for nothing.
But each year, the maid grew more beautiful, and the witch began to worry.
“Daughter,” she said, “There will come a day when men come to take you away from me.”
“Nay, mother,” the maid replied, “I would never leave you.” And indeed the maiden had no trouble dispatching her suitors. Those who were stupid were injured by one of the many traps she laid in the woods. Those who were weak were frightened off by her pet wolf, and those who were neither, were finally deterred by the witch’s powerful magic.
Now, it came to pass that stories of the forest maiden reached the ear of the Trickster God himself. Hearing of how so many of her suitors had failed, he grew determined to take the maid as his own bride.
One night, the daughter sat sewing near the fire when her mother paused in her slicing of vegetables and said, “A suitor approaches.”
“Oh la,” the maid said, unworried, “He’ll be turned-around from the tricks I laid in the woods.”
The witch returned to her cooking, satisfied, until the maid’s pet wolf, who she had left outside, began snarling and howling. The witch paused in her stirring of the pot and said, “A suitor approaches.”
“Oh la,” the maid said, unworried, “He’ll be frightened off by my lovely pet wolf.
The witch returned to her cooking, satisfied until the growls outside turned to whimpering. The witch paused in her ladling of stew and said, “A suitor approaches.”
“Oh la,” the maid said, unworried. “Mother, make your magic and drive him off.”
The witch made to cast magic, but then the door of the cottage blew open, and there stood the Trickster God, and both the witch and her daughter realized that there was no magic strong enough which could ward him off.
“Hail, crone,” he greeted the witch, “Have you a place at your table for a rogue such as I?” and having naught else to do, the mother served him a helping of stew and they supped together.
At the end of the meal, the Trickster God threw down his napkin.
“Thank thee, crone, for the filling fast. I will do you the civility of announcing my intentions. I wish to court your daughter.”
The maid, who had been wracking her clever mind all through supper, said, “You do me dishonor by making me so easily won.”
“I have already avoided your childish traps, your tamed wolf, and your mother’s magic, besides.” the Trickster said in annoyance. “What more would you have of me?”
“They say you are a master at riddles,” the maid said, in a very flattering tone.
“I am, I did invent them, in fact,” the Trickster preened.
“Then you will have no trouble with my task,” the maid said. “Go from here, and return on the morrow. My mother will have hidden me somewhere in the house, and she will give you a riddle as a clue. If you solve three of these, then I will be your bride. If you cannot, however, your throat will be rent upon my wolf’s teeth.”
The Trickster laughed, and thought that it would be only too easy. And so he bade the witch and her daughter good-night. After he left, the witch wept, and said, “Oh daughter you will be taken from me,” and the maid was forced to comfort her, and told her that she had thought of a riddle worthy of tricking even the Trickster God.
The next morning, when the Trickster made his appearance the witch greeted him with this riddle:
Wither to and wither fro,
I journey yet I never go
My feet which leave no trail
I follow the other’s tail
The Trickster thought for a moment, but it did not deter him for long. He opened the closet door and said, “Maid, maid, thou art the dustpan and your wolf the broom.” The maiden was forced to change back, and she and her mother served him supper. After he left, the witch wept once more and said, “Oh daughter you will be taken from me,” and the maid was forced to comfort her, and told her mother that she had an even cleverer riddle for the morrow.
The next morning, when the Trickster made his appearance, the witch greeted him with this riddle:
Through long the dark roads I tread
Ev’ry morn I admire my fate
Till my paths turn to silver thread
My gaze will seek my equal mate
The Trickster thought for a longer time, but it did not deter him for long. He walked to the witch’s vanity, and said, “Maid, maid, thou art the comb and your wolf the mirror.” The maiden was forced to change back, and she and her mother served him supper. After he left, the witch wept harder than she had previously, and even the maiden felt fear well in her heart, that she would be taken away from her beloved mother. Still, she sought to comfort her mother, and told her that she indeed had thought of the cleverest riddle in all the world, and it would be unsolvable.
The next morning, when the Trickster made his appearance, the witch greeted him with this:
In scorn from your sight,
I bite where it bleeds
The most vicious of creatures
have hidden teeth
The Trickster laughed, taking no time at all to think as he marched out to the back of the house, where an old, toothless dog laid under the shade, covered in irritated sores. “Maid, maid,” the Trickster taunted, “You dishonor yourself with this form. Thou art the dog, and I have no patience any longer for your silly games.”
“Nay,” said the maid’s voice, and the old dog changed form to her wolf, and a flea on the dog changed form to the maiden.
The Trickster, so astounded at being bested, had no defense as the wolf sprang forward and tore out his throat.
The maid made sure to spread the tale of her own cleverness far and wide. And thus, no more suitors bothered her ever again, and she and her mother lived in peace for the rest of their days.