Winner Winner
The story I chose to be number one was so good. I had a lot of fun reading it and the descriptions are really immersive. She reimagined a Russian tale called ‘The Frog Princess’. So without further ado… Congratulations Nae! You win bragging rights and a first place badge! And of course the greatest prize of all; your story is written below ;)
The Lakeside Proposal (A Fairy Tale)
Written by: ☆～°Nae°～☆Dewdrops weighed down on the blades of slender grass which towered above Vasilisa, glistening like crystals in the midday sunlight. Birds gossiped in the forest canopy above, their melodies synchronising with the babble of water from the lake beside her. Crouched on the mud beside the lake, she sighed, craning her neck up to try and see the birds. She couldn’t see anything but a haze of viridian and blinding light, which rippled slowly with a hushed whisper. Beside her, the roots of an elm tree snaked around the forest, forming bridges and tunnels. The smell of new leaves and budding flowers wafting into her nostrils, she gazed at the foliage beside her, which danced in the warm breeze that tingled her exposed skin. Even after all of these months, she hadn’t gotten used to walking around naked. Her head jerked to the side as far as it would go, her short neck aching, her cheeks burning. She pressed her bulbous fingers into one another.
Calm down Vasilisa. That doesn’t really matter any more, does it? It would probably be weirder if you actually were wearing something.
Creeping towards the edge of the lake, Vasilisa stared down at the clear water.
A frog stared back, golden eyes bulging from their sockets, slender limbs knotted around her tiny body, skin veiled in mucus and slime. The reflection- her reflection- wobbled in the rippling water, and Vasilisa glared at the fish gliding beneath the truthful mirage, her eyelids furrowing. Her aunt’s words still rung in her mind.
‘Are you trying to call me ugly, you rotten brat? I’ll teach you! Why, I’ll turn you into the most pathetic, ugly wretch known to the twelve Tsardoms! I’ll ruin your life!’
She’d only wanted to make her proud. She’d spent years slaving away, trying to make the flawless beauty potion her aunt had always mumbled about needing. And what did she get for it? Fake allegations of practicing dark magic. Public humiliation. Hatred. Being turned into a gross, slimy amphibian with no hope of her life returning to normal.
True love’s kiss. She scoffed.
Like that’s ever going to happen.
How was she ever going to get a man to fall in love with a frog?
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, listening to the sounds of the forest and inhaling the smell of damp earth. Gradually, a smile twinged the sides of her face, her throat bobbing up and down with her calm breathing. Opening her eyes again, Vasilisa gazed at the calm surface of the lake, sparkling with hundreds of stars. A paddle of leviathan ducks waded past her, cackling at their own jokes, their quacks shaking the entire woods. Vasilisa hopped away, clambering onto the side of the elm’s base, the racket banging from side to side in her head. Droplets of water drizzled down the grooves in the roots as she neared the trunk. Perching on the gnarled bark of the ancient elm, Vasilisa leaned back, taking a deep breath, her muscles relaxing.
Life as a frog was not so bad after all.
Maybe she could never be a human again. And maybe that was exactly what she needed. She’d always been too focused on the future. What if she messed up her potion? What if she failed her witchcraft exams? What if other people didn’t think she was kind enough, or wise enough, or beautiful enough? But now, she could just enjoy, now. Enjoy the soft mud on her feet. Enjoy the murmuring of a small waterfall cascading into the lake from a winding stream nearby. Enjoy the Spring.
Then she heard it.
A low hiss rumbled in her eardrums, making her tremble. Heavy air pressed down on her body, and she tumbled forwards with a yelp and a croak.
Twang!
Something smashed into the trunk above her. Limbs trembling, Vasilisa turned around and gazed blankly at the elm. An arrow, its metal head barely half her size, protruded from its trunk, the feathered fletching stroking her snout. Sweat trickled down her damp skin. Stepping back, Vasilisa gulped, her webbed feet spread across the dirt, her tiny body inching closer to the ground.
Something rustled in the bushes, and Vasilisa curled into a ball, forcing her eyes shut.
I’m going to die, I’m going to die.
There was silence. She opened her eyes. A hunter stepped forward, treading lightly despite his thick, leather boots. Whistling a soothing melody, he dropped a few mushrooms into one of the many pockets on his satchel, and tugged on the jacket he wore over his simple rubakha, his clothes tightly clinging to his slender, muscular body. He yanked the arrow from the tree, muttering something under his breath as he slid it back into his quiver. Clearing strands of his shoulder-length, tawny hair from his face, he turned to face the river, his eyes twinkling as he stuffed his hand into a pocket on his jacket and approached the lake. Bringing out half a loaf of stale bread, he ripped off chunks of it and, crouching down at the edge of the lake, dropped some crumbs into the water. Tentatively at first, the ducks swam towards him and, after some inspection, plunged their heads into the shimmering water.
He smiled, an adorable smile that made the world around it brighten. Vasilisa gazed beyond his long, dark lashes and into his chestnut eyes, so mellow with thought, yet still so bright and sparkling. She had never seen anyone so handsome.
“Marry me,” Vasilisa barked. “Marry me right now.”
His head jerking to the side, the man stared at her, his eyes wide. Trembling, he stood up, his bread falling from his grasp. Shrieking loudly, the ducks lunged forwards, gnawing at the loaf, and each other, in a brutal frenzy.
What am I doing? What have I just done?
“You want,” he paused, “to marry me?”
“I spoke too soon! I shouldn’t have said that!” Vasilisa forced a chuckle from her mouth. “Oh please, I am just joking with you, don’t mind me.”
The man continued to stare at her, his face pale, his jaw hanging open, his fingers quivering. Silence seared through the breeze and the birdsong, the chill running down her back scorching the midday homeliness. Blinking back tears, Vasilisa looked away, trying to force the words from her mouth. She had to say something. Anything. She needed this to work.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
His muscles relaxed, and he took a deep breath, the colour returning to his face. “Oh, I’m Ivan. Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov. But I prefer it when people call me Vanya. Not that anyone actually does, though. And you are?”
“It’s Lisa,” she reached out her hand for him to shake, but, remembering humans and frogs couldn’t shake hands comfortably, dug it into the ground instead, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Vanya.”
“Thank you, Lisa. You have a very nice name.”
“For a very unpleasant frog,” Vaslisa chuckled.
“What? No! You’re not unpleasant at all. You’re a very kind frog. I mean, I’ve never really talked to a frog before, but I’d imagine most frogs aren’t nearly as nice as you.”
“Thanks,” Vasilisa muttered. Then, she stepped forwards, and faced Vanya, gazing at his gorgeous features. “Wasn’t I just telling you to marry me a few seconds ago?”
“Well, yes, but,” Vanya’s face reddened, and he scratched the nape of his neck, “I guess it was more of a pleasant surprise than anything. Nobody’s ever asked for my hand in marriage, or to be in any sort of romantic relationship with me before. I honestly didn’t think there was a single lady in the world, human, or frog, or whatever, who would ever love me, let alone want to marry me.”
“Why wouldn’t anyone want to marry you? You seem really nice,” Vasilisa buried her head into her body, lowering her voice to a whisper, “and you’re so charming.”
“Thank you.” Vanya looked down, twiddling his fingers. “There’s a lot of reasons there’s nobody else in interested in me. I’m just the son of the local millers who’s trying to be a hunter as well, even though he can’t even aim his bow. And I say weird things all of the time, and I act like a simpleton even though I like to read and I know quite a lot. And there are better men in my village to marry, and better men in the nearby villages, too.”
“Vanya, don’t say that. You’re a lovely guy, and I’ve really enjoyed talking to you. You’re one of the few people who hasn’t been scared off by the fact I’m a talking frog.”
“Goodness, I’ve never received so many compliments before. You’re making me blush,” he muttered.
“Even though I’m a frog?” chirped Vasilisa.
Vanya nodded, his cheeks red. “Even though you’re a frog.” He looked at the lake again, watching the ducks return to the water. “Mama did say I need to get married soon,” he mumbled, pinching his chin, “and my babushka would love to be a great-grandma. But, then again, I can’t have children with a frog though, can I?”
I’m not a frog though, am I?
Vasilisa opened her mouth to speak, but quickly stopped herself, the memory still fresh in her mind.
‘Tell anyone what you really are and your curse will be sealed.’
Vasilisa shuddered as she recalled how tightly her aunt squeezed her in her wrinkled hands, her rotten breath filling her struggling lungs as she held her up to her bared teeth.
‘So much of a peep about your true identity, and let’s just say you won’t be Vasilisa Barinova anymore.’
“Honeslty, Vanya, I don’t know why I said that. I’m a frog. Why are you seriously considering this?”
Are you really sabotaging your only hope Vasilisa? Goodness, you really are an imbecile.
Vasilisa tried to smile. “Shouldn’t we at least get to know each other first?”
Reaching his hand to a cluster of daisies, Vanya gently plucked one of the flowers and tied it into a knot. “No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I really do need to get married. And if I can’t find a human girl, then I guess marrying a frog really isn’t that bad. And beside, I know they aren’t quite reality, but the people who are kind to talking animals in fairy tales usually get rewarded in some way.”
He held out his palm, lowering it to the ground. Her muscles twitching, Vasilisa crouched down and prepared for the jump. Taking a deep breath, she leapt onto Vanya’s hand. Slowly, he placed the knotted daisy before her.
“Well then, Lisa, would you like to be my bride?”
Her cheeks burned as she slipped the floral ring onto one of the fingers on her left hand. “I couldn’t think of anyone better to marry.”
“I couldn’t either,” Vanya replied.
