Now many adults know the story of sleeping beauty as told to them when very young. However, the wicked witch who stole her away was not the only witch that ever lived. Our witch, the one in this story, was very old, although to look upon her she had not aged beyond her 21st year. In her long lifetime she had stolen many a young princess away and used them to entertain her and keep her own beauty. This story is of one such girl who made a wish in an enchanted well, and soon regretted it; or some of it at least..
Long before Long, Long Ago was ever known, there lived a Princess called Trixie who was extremely kind and always full of laughter. She shared a bedroom with her older sister Caroline and their big shaggy wolf hound who was called Connal. Their bedroom was located on the east side of a big castle and every morning the sun would rise and fill their bedroom with warm orange light. Connal would sleep with his head under a blanket to avoid being woken by the brightness. As the sun rose it would creep over the balcony and slowly make its way across the floor like spilt honey towards Connal and the sleeping Princesses. He liked the way the warm sun slowly took the chill from his bones having been on the floor all night. Now you might wonder why Connal did not sleep on the one of the Princess’s beds, and if truth be told, the two girls would have loved him to be there. But Connal was no ordinary dog, he had been chosen by a great wizard when Caroline was born to look after her, and any other brothers and sisters that might come along later. This special guard dog had a keen sense of smell, with a nose specially created to sniff out Trolls, Elves and especially, Witches, whose strong evil smell was so heavy it could only be detected merely inches from the ground. The dog’s other features that could not be missed, was that Connal was very big, and very hairy.
Now witches were once a problem in the many kingdoms, always trying to lure a pretty princess away to ransom them for gold, or to drain them of their beauty to keep the witch young. I did say they were once a problem, however, princesses were now so well guarded and taught to avoid strange women bearing gifts, they slowly started to die off. Only the most evil and cleverest of the witches survived, and one such witch will appear, as if by magic, very soon.
One-day Caroline and Trixie decided they would go down to the barracks and watch the soldiers training. Actually, it had been Caroline’s idea and Trixie knew why. A young hansom officer called Simon was the head of the King’s guard, and Caroline loved him. The two things that stood in Caroline’s way where that Simon did not know about Caroline’s love for him and that Simon was not titled, and therefore could never marry a princess. This did not stop Caroline dragging her little sister along at every opportunity to watch Simon waving his big sword around. “If only I could get Simon alone to tell him how I felt.” Caroline would often say, in a dreamy far away voice. Poor Trixie would just roll her eyes and smile, for she had no idea what the attraction was with men that had big swords even at the age 18. On this particular day, Simon was absent from the training area. This was very unusual as Caroline had seen him there every time she had visited. “Excuse me Sergeant,” Caroline called, “Do you happen to know where Captain Simon is today?” The Sergeant immediately stood to attention and without looking directly at the princesses said, “Yes Ma’am, he is with your father, the King, discussing the damage caused by trolls in the outer farmlands of the Kingdom.”
After an hour of searching Caroline and Trixie found the King and the Captain talking to a small group of farmers in the Castle’s map room. “So that is the plan Captain, you will take 100 men with horses tomorrow to the west to track this troll and kill it,” said the King. Captain Simon stood to attention, saluted and marched out of the room. Caroline was about to drag Trixie away from their hiding place to pursue him when she heard their father speak to the gathered farmers. “You are sure that the troll was acting alone and that he paid no interest in your young women?” The farmers looked at one another for a moment and the largest one said, in a worried voice, “Sire, no women were taken like we said, but the troll was looking for something, that’s how the damage was caused when he ripped off the roofs of houses.” The King rubbed his chin and stood looking thoughtful. “Witches,” he said, “It’s always the damn witches that stir up trolls to come to villages and cause trouble.”
That night Caroline lay in bed thinking about Simon and his quest to kill a troll. It sounded very dangerous, and there was also the comment made by the King about Witches. “Witches,” she whispered towards the ceiling. Suddenly Connal the Irish Hound was on his feet with his ears up hair on the back of his grey coat bristling and his long white teeth bared in a snarl. “Sorry Connal, I didn’t mean to alarm you, I was just thinking out loud,” She said, patting him on the head. Connal looked quite relieved, for a dog. He walked around the room sniffing under doors and around window sills. Finally, satisfied that there was no smell of a witch, he collapsed on to his rug and buried his head under his blanket as usual. No one messed with Connal he thought as he heard Caroline blow out her bedside candle.
By the end of the following day it had been confirmed that all of the King’s horses and all of the King’s men were missing. They had left the castle at dawn to track down and kill the troll, and since then the only evidence of their heading west was the imprints of many horses and the Royal Flag found on the edge of the Dark Forest.
Caroline was inconsolable. Trixie tried everything to make her feel better, but nothing helped. Trixie still found it difficult to understand why Caroline was so upset, it was not as if she had ever spoken to Simon! Eventually her sister fell asleep, and to give her some peace and quiet, Trixie went for a walk in the castle’s private walled garden to watch the sun go down and figure out how to best help her sister. “Stay here with Caroline,” she told Connal. The dog lay his head on Caroline’s bed to acknowledge his job and tried to look important. If only Connal had known what was going on in the royal garden, he may not have been so content to stay with the sad princess Caroline.
Trixie liked the royal garden, it was not like the trimmed and symmetrical grounds that surrounded the castle. It was wild, disorganised and there was always some new flower to be found that she hadn’t seen before. Sometimes she would hear rustling in the bushes and knew it was the gnomes watching her. It often took time for the gnomes to appear because they were shy, but eventually they always appeared, and appear they did. From behind an old watering can, that had an orange flower growing out of its spout, stepped a jolly looking gnome. He wore red trousers, held up with string, a yellow sweater that had holes in the elbows and black muddy boots. To complete his outfit, he wore a bright red pointed hat on his head, which he promptly took off and bowed deeply when Trixie made eye contact. He remained bent over, as a sign of respect, until Trixie would speak. “Good evening Master Trudgill,” she said, recognising this particular gnome. The gnome stayed silently bent over. Knowing that the gnomes were very old, Trixie raised her voice and tried again. “GOOD EVENING MASTER TRUDGILL!” The gnome let out a small squeak and then a grunt. Confused by the gnome’s strange response, Trixie knelt down and said, “Are you alright?” The gnome very slowly turned his bright red face towards her and whispered, “Begging your pardon Ma’am, but I’m not bloody deaf, it’s me back. Me back’s got stuck.” Well the princess had never had to deal with a gnome with a stiff back before; she had seen the gnomes swimming naked very excitedly in the pond, but their stiffness was something entirely different on that occasion!
After some light back rubbing and encouragement, Master Trudgill was able to lie flat on the cold earth. “What brings the princess to garden this time of the evening ma’am?” he asked. Trixie let out a deep sigh and told him of her sister’s plight and the sad news of Captain Simon’s disappearance. The gnome did not look surprised to hear this, and this did not go unnoticed by Trixie. “Do you know more than I Master Trudgill?!” she asked. “Maybes I do, and maybes I don’t,” said the gnome, “It all depends dunnit princess.” Trixie was rather taken back by the gnome’s rudeness, she had helped him after all, and she was a princess! “What does it depend on then Master gnome?” She said, dropping the little man’s name on purpose for effect. “Well it depends on what you would give in return to help your sister I s’pose. If I told you how to find out if the Captain was alive, what would you give in return?” Trixie sat for a moment and thought. She went to say something more than once, but stopped short each time. “I don’t know what I would give, I mean, I don’t have anything really,” she finally said. The gnome looked at her, “Oh I sure you do princess, I sure you do,” said the gnome, with a very unusual glint in his eye.
“So, all I would have to do is go to the wishing well in this garden and drop my knickers into it, are you sure about that, because it all sounds very odd!” said Trixie after the wicked old gnome explained what was required. “As I said you before, you ‘ave to give sumit personal to the well, I’s don’t make the rules!” Trixie looked at the gnome, half expecting him to burst into laughter. “Okay,” she said, “Turn your face away whilst I step out of my underwear.” The gnome looked away so that she couldn’t be seen by him, however, there were more than one pair of eyes interested in the negotiations. From the far end of the garden in the dark cover of large fruit tree lurked a woman of great beauty. Occasionally her eyes would flash bright red each time the princess got closer to following the gnome’s instructions. Master Trudgill had not been her first choice to place under a spell, however, it was a last minute act and she had seen something in him that made her choice easy; he was a horny little gnome and he would do anything for a pretty face. Placing him under a spell was easy once she had hastedly appeared in the garden and revealed her stocking top. He was too eager for more and when she lent forward to say hello to him, her ample breasts spilled forward to expose her cleavage. The poor gnome could do nothing to avoid staring, and when he finally looked up into her flaming red eyes, it was all too late for him. All this had taken place after the witch’s raven had reported that Trixie was leaving castle’s protection. With 100 soldiers missing from the defences, she siezed her evil opportunity and seduced the gnome. Now all she needed was Trixie’s knickers to hit the water at the bottom of the well and in an instant the witch would have her, and have her she would, in so many ways!
Trixie walked the edge of the well and looked down. It was dark and yet there was a strange purple light dancing in the gloom. The gnome was now sitting up rubbing his eyes and shaking his head in an odd way. Trixie dangled her small lacy knickers over the well with one finger, and out loud said, “Tell me wishing well, what is the fate of Captain Simon, is he alive or is he dead?” As she let her knickers slip from her finger nail, a gnome’s voice behind her was shouting, “NO, NO NO….!
– – – – – – – –