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LONG AGO, in a land far away, there was a vast, ancient forest. This forest was rumored to be enchanted, and though few believed it, men still told stories of the strange and perilous Fairies that lived there.

Now on the edge of this forest, there was a cottage. And in this cottage, there lived a man and his wife, and their child, Anya. When Anya was very young, her mother died, leaving her and her father very sad and lonely. Aunt Aggie insisted that Anya needed a woman in her life, so she packed up her belongings and her children and came to live in the cottage by the wood. With so many extra mouths to feed, Father had to find work in the city. He left Anya home with her aunt and her cousins all day–sometimes for many days at a time. Aunt Aggie assured him she would take good care of his little daughter.

But Aunt Aggie was a wicked woman at heart. She treated Anya dreadfully, and made her work all day, while she and her own children did nothing. Her children were also cruel, and they took delight in teasing poor Anya and making her miserable. They stole her pretty things–her dolls, her dresses, and her hair clips, leaving Anya ragged and poor.

But Father never found out how they mistreated her, for when he came home, Aunt Aggie and the children were as good as gold! Aunt Aggie threatened to beat Anya if she ever told her father what went on while he was away, so the little girl stayed silent.Anya was so miserable she wished she could run away from all of it–but whenever she thought she would try, she grew afraid that Aunt Aggie would find her and bring her back, and treat her even worse than before. So she stayed where she was, suffering all her aunt and cousins’ cruelty in silence.

One day, as summer came to its end, Anya was sent outside to beat the rugs. Obediently, she dragged the large rolls out to the edge of the forest and laid them out over a branch. But as she lifted her rod to strike, a faint glimmer caught her eye. Anya peered into the trees, straining her eyes to catch a glimpse of it again. Sure enough, there came another glimmer, and this time she heard the distant sound of echoing laughter.

Now Anya was so curious that she forgot all about beating the rugs, for they never had visitors at their cottage. Who could these people be, laughing so merrily in the trees? Anya looked to see if Aunt Aggie was watching out the window, and–seeing that she wasn’t– slipped into the trees. Quickly and quietly she followed the lights and the laughter, determined to find out who these strange people were. The glimmering lights led Anya further and further into the forest, until she lost sight of her home.

Soon the trees blocked out the light of the sun, leaving only the rusty glow of those mysterious lights. Suddenly Anya stopped, looked around, and realized she was quite lost! Now she began to worry, for if she did not return soon, she would be punished by her aunt. But as she turned to find a way home, the lights glowed even brighter behind her, and Anya turned just time to see the magical forms of the Fairies appear. Anya gasped, and quickly hid herself behind a tree, and from there she watched the strange creatures.

They were tall, graceful, and beautiful. Warm light shone from their faces, and crowns of leaves and berries adorned their flowing hair. Anya’s eyes widened in awe as she saw that instead of horses, the Fairies rode diamond-white unicorns. Their faces were fraught with merriment, and their silver laughter echoed like bells through the trees. Bows hung at their backs, and quivers of arrows hung at their sides, and each one carried a horn around their necks.

As Anya gazed upon them, she felt both wonder and fear; for she could just remember the voice of her mother, whispering softly to her as she rocked her to sleep:

“Be wary, my child, and never run off into the woods. For the Fairies live there, and they are perilous. Never stray far from the house… lest the Fairies should steal you away.”

Now as Anya beheld the Fairies themselves, she knew she should flee, yet she could not bring herself to leave. Instead, she was drawn even closer to the creatures–and as she stepped forward, a twig snapped under her feet.

Suddenly, the laughter of the Fairies stopped, and all eyes turned to Anya. There she stood, frozen, too frightened to move. In a moment, the Fairies caught her fast in their slender hands.

“What does a mortal child do in our woods?” They cried. But Anya was too surprised to speak. “Whatever she may be doing, she has seen us now, and she has trespassed on our lands. What shall we do with her?”

“She must be taken to the king! He will decide what to do.”

And so saying, the Fairies whisked her away, off through the woods even deeper than before. They moved so fast that the trees went by in a blur, and Anya lost all sense of direction. Along the way, she could hear their teasing whispers:

“What will the king do to this lass? Turn her into a frog, perhaps?”

“Nay, this one seems more like a squirrel, or a little brown wren!”

At last they came to a great valley in the woods, and they crossed a little brook, and came into the hidden kingdom of the Fairies. Such was the glamour of the fairy-magic that no human could ever find their citadel, unless they were led by the Fairies themselves.

Despite her fear, Anya could not help but marvel at the wonders of the Fairy Kingdom. Never had she seen such beautiful sights! All at once the ugliness of her life with Aunt Aggie seemed like a distant dream. But Anya did not forget the danger she was in. Her fate was yet to be decided.

Anya was taken deep into the citadel, where many Fairies waited in the court of the Fairy King. They gathered around his oaken throne, their wide eyes watching her curiously as she approached.

As for the king himself, he sprawled across his throne, and his silver-gold hair hung to his waist like a fox’s tail. Feathers and beads were entwined with it, and blackthorn branches formed a crown high above his head.

“This mortal child was found spying in our woods, Oh King,” said the Fairies who had captured Anya. “What shall be done with her now?”

The king looked down at Anya, and cocked his head in thought. In his eyes, she saw a fae, and wild light, and knew that despite his regal appearance, he was as untamed and dangerous as the beasts of the forest. Her eyes wide with fear, the little girl trembled before him.

But as the king looked upon the ragged, frightened child, a softness entered his eyes, and kindness rose in his heart. He sensed in her all the loneliness she suffered, such a pity awoke in him as he had never felt before.

The Fairy King reached down and gently took her up in his arms, and set her down upon his knee. “This child,” he said, holding her close, “shall be our princess from this day forward.”

Then the Fairies gave a great shout, and all rejoiced in the arrival of their new princess. A celebration began that day and lasted for weeks, well into the autumn. They took up their harps, and flutes, and drums, and lifted their voices in song. They sang of the wind, the trees, and the stars, and of the creatures that lived beneath the branches and leaves. They laughed and danced and sang of all that they loved, to show Anya the ways of Fairy life. And during all this time, the Fairy King never left Anya’s side. He had his servants weave a crown of vines, and placing it on her head he took her along the hidden paths of the forest.

“Now little one, let me show you the secrets of the Fairies!” he told her.

The king showed Anya many things. He taught her how to walk unseen and unheard over the leaves, and how to spring from branch to branch, like the red squirrels in the treetops. He taught her how to dance under the starlight and make music more beautiful than the birds. He taught her the language of the animals, and how to ride any one of them that she pleased.

In return, Anya inspired feelings in the king which he had never felt before. He felt a kind of joy such as he had not known existed. This wild, untamed creature became gentle and calm in her presence, and delighted in her company. He treasured her above all the rest of his kingdom, for Fairies have no children, and Anya was the first he had ever beheld.

As for Anya, these were the happiest days of her life. She could not remember a time that had been more joyful, or free. Gradually, all memory of her sorrows melted away, and she knew only the wonders of the wild. As time passed, Anya grew evermore like the Fairies surrounding her. Her eyes became sharper, her hair grew longer, and she became taller. A light shone from her face, bright with excitement and merriment. No longer was she lonely or afraid.

Thus weeks went by, then months, and the Fairy King gloried in having his princess byhis side. And had fortunes gone his way, those days would have lasted forever. But one night, as he walked through his palace under the moonlight, the sound of quiet weeping reached his ears. This was a sound quite strange to him, so he set out immediately to discover its source.

Following the sound, the king reached the chamber of his own little princess, and he looked down at her as she lay in her bed of leaves. She was crying in her sleep, and in her dreams she called out for her father.

Suddenly a great uncertainty rose in the Fairy King’s mind–for here was his darling mortal, but she was as unhappy now as she had been when she first came! She called out, wanting for something that was not within his kingdom. The king could not understand what could make her want anything that he could not give her.

“Do I not love you enough to make you happy?” he cried, a flame of jealousy rising in his heart. But all at once he felt sorrow as well, for he could not bear to see Anya unhappy. He realized that a mortal could not be happy forever with Fairies; it was only natural that the child should long for her true family.

So, for the first time feeling a bit of pain, he leaned close and whispered, “Perhaps there is one last gift I can give you. Sleep soundly, my love, as your king bears you away on his wings.”

Then summoning his magic, the Fairy King changed himself into a great hawk, larger than any eagle. He nestled the sleeping child safely on his back, and took flight into the nigh air. Swiftly he flew over the treetops, until at last he came to the cottage that had once been Anya’s home. Alighting in the frosted grass before the house, he set her down and returned to his own shape. Carefully, the king crept past her and into the cottage.

Not a soul stirred as the king entered. Looking around, he saw no signs of Anya’s wicked aunt, nor her children. Further into the cottage, he saw the form of Anya’s sleeping father. Silently the king knelt next to the father, and whispered in his ear, “Awaken, mortal! Your daughter waits for you outside.”

Then, lest the father should see him, the king changed himself into a winter wind, and flew from the house. Outside, he rushed through the grass and tousled Anya’s hair, gently waking her from her sleep. But he did not let her see him. Instead he fled to the trees, and there changed back into his own form. Crouching in the tree branches above, he watched as the events he had set into motion unfolded below.

Hearing the Fairy King’s words, Father suddenly awoke, and sprang from his bed in excitement. “Anya! Anya!” he cried as he dashed outside. And there he saw her, standing in the falling snow, gazing about her in uncertainty. As he drew closer, Father saw in her eyes the look of an animal that cannot remember how to trust. She had become as wild as the Fairies who sheltered her.

Kneeling down, Father spoke softly to his daughter. “Anya,” he said, “your Aunt Aggie and her children have left. They went back to the city when you disappeared, and the truth of her wickedness was revealed. I have spent every day searching for you, and every night thinking of you, hoping you would someday return!”

Father held out his arms, and smiled warmly. “Please, Anya, come back to me! I will find work here, and make my living close to you. I will never leave you again. I love you, my daughter. Come back to me!”

Hearing his words, Anya suddenly gasped, as the memory of her love for him came rushing back, and immediately she rushed forward and melted into her father’s arms.

“I’m back, Father!” she cried, “I’m back. I won’t leave you again.”

There, father and daughter embraced and wept for joy at having found one another again. Then Father picked her up and carried her into the cottage, where they laughed and cried and told all that had transpired during their absence. The Fairy King looked on from the trees, and a faint smile crossed his lips.

Later, when Anya and her father were sound asleep, the king crept into the cottage once more. Without waking either of the mortals, he bent low and bestowed one kiss upon Anya’s brow. “Always remember your days with the Fairies,” he whispered to her, “and should you ever need me, I’ll not be far away.”

Then he departed, and returned to his kingdom, vowing never to forget his mortal princess.

Years passed, and Anya grew up and had children of her own. But she never did leave her father again; she and her husband lived in her father’s house, and raised their children there. At her children’s bedsides, Anya would whisper tales of the ragged child who had once found favor with the Fairies. And when she looked carefully, she could still see the form of a hawk, watching intently from the shadows of the forest.

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THE END