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There once were two sisters, alike in their love for each other but different as night and day. Rose Red was dark haired and boisterous; she loved to hunt and explore but preferred solitude. Snow White had a froth of pale blond hair and was cheerfully sociable; her favorite pastime was shamelessly flirting and making her rounds through the village to glean the weekly gossip.
Though they were daughters of the king they were forced to live in secrecy. The neighboring kingdom was ruled by an evil man who would do anything to take over, including hurting the two of them in order to procure a surrender. Thus the two sisters lived a good but meager life in a cottage near an enchanted forest, changing their names to Marianne and Dawn to hide their secret. Their mother passed away a few years back so it was just the two of them now, but they kept themselves busy. Marianne spent her days sparring and practicing fighting. Despite her father's fears, when she came of age she was determined to fight for her kingdom, to make it safe for her and her sister so their family could be one again. Dawn studied the art of healing, and though she had a propensity for shirking work for fun was still becoming quite skilled. The days passed uneventfully until one snowy winter’s night that changed not only their lives, but Marianne’s heart…
~*~
There was a bear outside their door. It was by far the biggest bear Marianne had ever seen in her life, which was saying something since she regularly hunted in an enchanted forest.
“I think he wants to come inside,” Whispered Dawn as she got up on tiptoe and peeked through the tiny door window.
“Of course he wants to come inside, he’s probably hungry!” Marianne said in a low voice, reaching for her bow. The door rattled again, and if Marianne didn’t know any better it sounded less like the bear were trying to knock the door down and more like he was trying to… knock?
“Nooo,” Dawn pushed Marianne's bow aside, “don’t hurt him! I bet he’s just cold, or maybe he’s lost his way and can’t find his shelter! Why else would he be wandering around right now with the Dawn like it is?” Dawn said, her eyes wide with sympathy.
“I can hear you in there! Open the accursed door, would ye?” The bear said and Dawn shook her sister’s arm vigorously.
“See! He can talk!” She said, as if that proved her point.
“Dawn…” Marianne sighed, exasperated. When it came to the animals of the enchanted forest there was always a fifty fifty chance it would be gifted with intelligence above their kin. Marianne had a theory it had something to do with the mischievous fae keeping themselves amused, but she couldn’t prove it. Either way, just because the bear could talk didn’t mean he wouldn’t eat them.
“I’m going to let him in,” Dawn said, and before Marianne could do anything, her sister flung the door open and greeted the bear as if he had simply stopped by for a friendly visit.
“Dawn! What are you doing?!” Marianne hissed, but it was too late. The door was open and the bear was coming in.
“He’s just cold,” Dawn said. “Aren’t you, you beary-weary? Look at you, you’re covered in snow!”
“The name is Bog. Call me beary-weary again and I’ll eat you,” rumbled the bear.
“Well! You’re welcome, by the way!” Huffed Dawn, crossing her arms and pouting. “Beary-weary,” She muttered under her breath rebelliously.
Marianne drew her bow and aimed at Bog the bear, who looked infuriatingly unimpressed.
“Yours is the only shelter I could find short of burrowing in the snow. Let me warm myself by your fire and I will be on my way as soon as the snow lets up. I give you my word I will not hurt you or yours, tough girl.”
Something heavy settled on Marianne at the bears words, which made her feel that his word was indeed binding. Not a regular bear, then. A fae? But that didn’t make sense; a fae would hardly need to come to their humble cottage for shelter from a storm.
Marianne narrowed her eyes at Bog, “And I’m just supposed to take you at your word?”
Bog rolled his eyes, “Gods, woman, what would I have to gain if I tried to eat the two of you? I can’t tend a fire with these,” He raised a paw, “and I can hunt just fine without resorting to ambushing humans in their home. You look rather gamey, anyway.”
And with that he settled by the fire as if he owned the place. Marianne scowled, none too pleased that the creature had just waltzed in and taken over her cottage without so much as a thank you.
“Here, why don’t I get that snow off your fur,” Marianne said in a falsely sweet tone, putting down her bow and grabbing the broom. She raised the broom and without preamble began to beat the snow off him with vigor.
“Ow! Hey! Get off me you wee thing!” Bog swiped halfheartedly at her, but she was already finished. Dawn gathered up the rug below Bog and tugged at it until he obligingly sat up, and her sister took the rug with all the snow upon and shook it out outside the door.
“What was that about?!” Bog growled.
“You were going to dampen our floor with all that snow. Haven’t you got an ounce of manners?” Marianne said.
“Says the woman who beat me without so much of an explanation beforehand,” Bog harrumphed, allowing Dawn to settle the rug back in front the fire before he sat down again.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Marianne shrugged and went back to her whittling, while Dawn sat in the chair near Bog and starting barraging him with questions.
“Is your name really Bog?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, it just is.”
“Are you a human enchanted to be a bear? A bear gifted with speech?” Dawn asked.
“I don’t know, I can’t remember,” Bog growled. “Would you stop with the incessant questions? I’m trying to relax.”
“At HER fire, remember. Torture him with questions all you like, Dawn. It’s your right.”
Dawn's eye’s gleamed mischievously, “Boggy Woggy Beary Weary.”
Bog groaned and hid his head under his paws.
~*~
Time passed, and they found that whenever the snows came heavy Bog would again be at their door to share their fire. Each time he would bring something in return; a rabbit, or a deer for them to roast. Marianne complained that she didn’t need the help, that she could hunt just fine on her own, but she was still pleased because hunting on snowy days was tedious at best. She would never say that aloud, of course, lest Bog get a big head about it; it was an equal trade, that was all.
Soon they began hunting together, Bog scaring out the big game for Marianne to shoot, and chasing down the ones she missed. They made a game of it, and whoever brought the most down got to have the choicest cut at dinner. By winter’s end both Marianne and Dawn considered Bog a dear friend, so when spring rolled around and eased into summer, Marianne felt stung that the cantankerous bear never came to visit now that he no longer needed their fire.
They went on with their life, and everything was back to normal until one day they came upon a dwarf who was stuck on a tree. He was jumping up and down, to and fro, but no matter what he did he could not free his long, golden hair from where it was stuck.
“Hey there, need some help?” Asked Dawn, always eager to give aid.
“Gee, d’ya think, darlin’?” The dwarf said, his voice tinted with a strange accent; not unpleasant in of itself but still it gave Marianne the urge to smack the squat creature. Something about him reminded her of her first “love”, Roland. She had discovered him one day with another women, telling her how she would soon be a king’s mistress. Marianne didn’t know how he had found out that she was the crown princess, but before she could question him he escaped. It was infuriating to know that someone out there knew the secret that could put her and her sister in danger, and all for a despicable bid for power.
But this was no man, that much was clear from his short stature and clearly dwarvish features.
“No need for sarcasm, she was just trying to help. Me, I’d be more inclined to shoot you than help you,” Marianne said coolly, raising her bow.
“Girls shouldn’t play with weapons,” Said the dwarf in a patronizing tone and Marianne was inches away from letting her arrow fly but stayed her hand because her sister was already moving in to help him.
“What is your name, dwarf?” Dawn asked as she tried to tug his hair free from the branch.
“That’s not important. Can you get me out, or not?”
“I’m afraid not,” Dawn said, grunting as she tugged at the hair. “It’s really stuck in there.”
The dwarf rolled his eyes, “Well you’ve been SUCH a help, dearheart.”
“I’m just going to have to try something else,” Dawn said, and in one smooth motion took scissors from out of her pocket and sliced a tiny bit of his hair from the tip. The hair finally came free and the dwarf jumped back as if Dawn had burned her, clutching his hair possessively.
“You impudent little – how dare you cut my beautiful hair?!”
“It was just a tiny piece, you can barely tell,” Dawn said, puzzled at his reaction.
“MY HAIR IS RUINED!” The dwarf wailed, running his hands over where the missing tip was. “It’s – It’s – IMPERFECT!”
Marianne peered at him, “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”
“Noooo,” he whined. “You don’t understand. How could you? With such short and drab hair on your two heads.”
The more he spoke the more he reminded her of Roland. But despite the attitude and voice he looking nothing like him. Marianne raised her bow again while Dawn pulled at her short golden locks with a frown. "Watch it, Dwarf," Marianne warned. He pouted, stomping over to the tree where he grabbed a bag that was hiding amongst the roots.
“May bad luck fall upon you both for what you did to me!” He cried and, tossing his hair behind him, he was off into the forest.
“Marianne, you think my hair is pretty, don’t you?” Dawn said, trying to pull a bouncy curl down far enough so she could see it.
“Fifteen townsmen can’t be wrong,” Marianne said.
Snow perked up, missing Marianne’s tone, “You right! Oh, but it only matters if Peter is the one who likes my hair…or wait, no - Paul!”
“Come on. Let’s go pick those berries already,” Marianne said, dragging her sister into the forest, making sure it was the opposite direction that the dwarf had gone.
~*~
As summer passed they happened upon the dwarf many times. And every time her good-natured sister helped the dwarf despite his continued insults and thankless attitude. His long hair seemed to so often get him into trouble that Marianne was frankly astonished he threw up such a fuss every time Dawn had to cut him out of his situation. The last time they met him, a large fish had taken hold of his hair thinking it was a fish line and refused to let go. After they had rescued him his entire face turned red before screaming, “You toad-stool, is it your purpose in life to ruin my most beautiful asset? Wasn’t it enough to clip off the end? Now you’ve cut off the best part of it!” Before he ran into the forest, likely afraid that Marianne would shoot him. Indeed she had been very close to doing just that, but Dawn had stopped her, saying they mustn’t sink to his level.
Autumn was upon them before they knew it, and they hadn’t seen the dwarf for weeks when they happened upon him in a clearing, setting jewels around him in a circle as if to inspect their shine. Dawn, determined to finally wring a thank you out of the churlish dwarf, had approached him while Marianne stayed back, waiting for him to give her any reason to let her arrow find his ass.
“What’re you doing, standing there gaping? Do you think I’ll reward you for disfiguring me? Get away!” He said, shooing Dawn away as soon as she was within his sight.
Marianne was about to raise her bow when a familiar gravelly voice sounded behind her. “Are ye here to thwart me yet again?”
Marianne whirled around and was unable to muffle her happy cry of, “Bog!” much to her chagrin. Bog, however, seemed less than pleased to be encountering her again, despite the fact that they had not seen each other now for over half a year. Rancor rose inside her at the thought and she narrowed her eyes. “Where have you been you big jerk?!”
“Where have I - ? No, I’m not the one who needs to be explaining things. Why have you been helping him!” Bog swung a massive paw towards the dwarf, who was gesticulating wildly to a confused Dawn.
“I haven’t been helping him, Dawn has. And besides, why do you care who we help or don’t help? I don’t see that it’s any of your business ESPECIALLY since you disappeared on us,” Marianne said hotly.
“Every time I’ve gotten close to nabbing him, and EVERY TIME you and your sister set him free.”
“Why are you even after him, anyway? Granted he’s despicable, but…”
Bog’s eyebrows drew together, “I just AM. I don’t know why I just…I…” Bog trailed off with a frustrated noise. “I just have to!”
Marianne gave up on Bog and ran towards Dawn, needing to defend her sister from the dwarf’s tirade. The dwarf looked annoyed when he saw Marianne, but his gaze turned to terror when he saw Bog right behind her. He threw up his hands in front of himself and cowered.
“Don’t eat me! I’m stringy, not tasty at all! Eat these two, they’re young and succulent. They’d make a much better meal!”
“You little troll…” Marianne said, raising her bow while Bog started to advance on the dwarf.
“Two against one? Not fair!” The dwarf said. He grabbed a cloth sack nearby and tossed something in his mouth. In an instant his features transformed; his gnarled dwarvish face smoothing out as grew to the size of a man, and before Dawn could get away he clutched her to his chest, raising a knife to her throat.
Marianne nearly dropped her bow in shock, “Roland!” She ground out. It was him. That was why he had seemed so familiar.
“Tha’s right,” He leered at her. “I had my eyes on your kingdom at first, but now I’m after something much better. I’ve got the goblin king’s stone of power and now that I’ve finally got the seed to grow my own staff I’ll be ruler of the goblin kingdom!” Roland bent down, rifling through the bag, knife still firmly pressed against Dawn’s throat. His hand came up with a piece of amber and a seed.
“That’s mine!” Bog said, then looked confused as if the words had come out of their own accord.
“That curse the witch sold me cost all the jewels I owned and yet it STILL isn’t working like it should. When I’m king she’ll be sorry she sold me a shoddy spell.” Roland stuffed the rock and seed into the ground at the center of the circle of jewels and the earth beneath them shuddered.
“Dawn, now!” Marianne said, hoping against hope that her sister remembered the few defensive moves she had taught her. Thankfully, she did, and in one fluid motion Dawn gripped Roland’s knife holding hand and pulled it outward, throwing him off balance just long enough for Bog to leap in and pin Roland to the ground.
“How do I lift the curse?! Tell me!” Bog roared. As if in answer the ground below them erupted throwing Bog off Roland, who rolled away but bounced back quickly, running towards the area where a staff was now growing, the amber encased in the top. Marianne dove towards it and snatched it out of the ground, tossing it to Bog who caught it neatly in his teeth. From the thrumming in the air around it she could tell it held power and she knew someone like Roland should never have that sort of power.
Roland looked on in horror as Bog began to transform, shedding his fur and exchanging it for branch-like scales. His head lengthened to a point, his hands from great paws to long-fingered hands. Marianne gaped, a small primal part of her recognizing him as what he truly was; the Goblin King. He WAS fae after all.
“P-p-please, don’t kill me!” Stuttered Roland. “Your majesty!”
Bog growled at him and raised his staff, but Dawn ran over and grasped his arm as if he were still merely the great hairy bear who had shared their hearth. “Boggy woggy…I have a better idea!”
For a few terrifying moments Bog looked annoyed and Marianne was contemplating the best way to take on a Fae lord, when she noticed Bog’s expression slowly changing to amused. Whatever Dawn was telling him, he liked it.
“Yes, I think that just may work. Death IS too good for him.” Bog waved his staff with a flourish and with a pop Roland was back to his normal size. Another pop and he was old, frail…and completely bald. Roland’s eyes went wide as he frantically patted his head.
“M-m-my hair! No!”
“Should you ever return to my forest I will not be so merciful,” Bog said darkly. “Now GO!”
Roland jumped and began to hobble off in the other direction. The three of them stood awkwardly for a moment until Dawn took Marianne's hand in hers and dragged her over to Bog before stepping out with a wink at Marianne. Marianne blushed and looked down.
“I - uh – I missed you,” She admitted. Bog looked equally, if not more uncomfortable than her. He no longer looked the regal king, and that made her feel a bit better. When she looked up into his eyes she saw that they were still the same fantastic blue as when he had been a bear. He was still the being she had come to know – and care for. She looked down to hide the blush that was surely spreading over her cheeks. Now that he was in a more humanoid form she could admit to herself that her feelings were more than that of friendship – but she found herself at a complete loss of what to do with that information.
“You can come visit me - I mean – visit my kingdom -whenever you like. I’ll – I’ll be quite a bit smaller than this, but I can change you to the correct size, no problem.”
Marianne looked at his iridescent wings enviously, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly.” She said shyly. Bog reached a hand towards her.
“I’ll give you butterfly’s wings and a night you’ll never forget.”
Marianne hesitated, "Can Dawn come too?”
Bog grimaced, “Only if she promises to never – “
“Pleaaaaase~ Boggy-woggy!” Dawn called, clearly having beem listening in the whole time.
“BOG!” Bog snapped and Marianne laughed. He rubbed his temples, “Keep this up and I’ll give you moth’s wings.”
“EW. Fine. So tell me, Bogg- I mean Bog – Tell me – does your kingdom have any cute boys?” Dawn asked as she jogged back up to them.
“By your standards I suppose the elves would be cute,” Bog said with a roll of his eyes.
“Oooh I hope one of them sings. I’ve always loved a guy who can sing.”
“I’m sure one will. So…shall we?” Marianne said, placing her hand into his.
Bog smiled at her, his eyes warming, “We shall.”