Frog Princess
Jun. 17th, 2007 11:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsThis is a random thing that came to mind the other night - it is short.
The Frog Princess
A beautiful woman – perfect. Everyone had a different opinion on what *made* her perfect: red hair, red lips, pale white shin, curves that could melt a man’s (and some women’s) brains, not to mention their lower anatomy. It wasn’t just her looks, though. She knew how to move, how to give that perfect promising look, an engaging smile, a curious fluttering of the eyelashes. And she was a woman who could live up to her invitations.
Of course there is no such thing as real perfection. There is always a flaw. In this case it is personality. Every acquiescence for a price. Every flirtation timed to wound. A string of bleeding hearts and broken lovers coolly left behind. She had no heart of her own – she collected those of others.
Nothing so cruel could be allowed to continue indefinitely. People won’t stand for such things. The story goes that it was a woman, spurned though it isn’t clear by whom, who turned to the Fey for help: a dark Cinderella, seeking not a prince but retribution.
“Curse her,” she invoked.
And the Fey are creatures of tradition. They picked a traditional curse, but with a twist. No one should say that the Fey are not *creative*, certainly not within certain boundaries. Like all classical artists, they recognize the importance of finesse.
They turned this beautiful soulless creature into a frog. It is a fate generally reserved for intolerant or arrogant princes, to be sure, but this one surely saw herself as a princess. The kiss of a prince, rare enough in these days but no rarer than expressions of the power of the Fey, is required to break the curse. Debatably, this could be some kind of metaphor for a kind hearted man of any rank, but it is a moot point. He would have to be a very special soul indeed to make such a sacrifice, as to touch this species with any part of the body would surely prove fatal.
The Frog Princess
A beautiful woman – perfect. Everyone had a different opinion on what *made* her perfect: red hair, red lips, pale white shin, curves that could melt a man’s (and some women’s) brains, not to mention their lower anatomy. It wasn’t just her looks, though. She knew how to move, how to give that perfect promising look, an engaging smile, a curious fluttering of the eyelashes. And she was a woman who could live up to her invitations.
Of course there is no such thing as real perfection. There is always a flaw. In this case it is personality. Every acquiescence for a price. Every flirtation timed to wound. A string of bleeding hearts and broken lovers coolly left behind. She had no heart of her own – she collected those of others.
Nothing so cruel could be allowed to continue indefinitely. People won’t stand for such things. The story goes that it was a woman, spurned though it isn’t clear by whom, who turned to the Fey for help: a dark Cinderella, seeking not a prince but retribution.
“Curse her,” she invoked.
And the Fey are creatures of tradition. They picked a traditional curse, but with a twist. No one should say that the Fey are not *creative*, certainly not within certain boundaries. Like all classical artists, they recognize the importance of finesse.
They turned this beautiful soulless creature into a frog. It is a fate generally reserved for intolerant or arrogant princes, to be sure, but this one surely saw herself as a princess. The kiss of a prince, rare enough in these days but no rarer than expressions of the power of the Fey, is required to break the curse. Debatably, this could be some kind of metaphor for a kind hearted man of any rank, but it is a moot point. He would have to be a very special soul indeed to make such a sacrifice, as to touch this species with any part of the body would surely prove fatal.
