In a land far away and a time long ago, there was a lucky king and queen. They were strong and noble and wise, they were fair to look upon and their love was deep and true. Their subjects loved them and their neighbors respected them.
They had one son, a young man named Sean. He was as bright as a ray of sunshine, handsome and witty and good-hearted. He meant all the world to his parents.
Their palace was grand and comfortable; their courtiers were loyal, smart, and sensible; their servants well-treated and hard-working. Their huge stables housed the world's best horses, beautiful and swift and each in their own stall. The marvel of the stables, however, was not a horse, but a donkey that had been part of the queen's dowry.
The queen kept him in a luxurious stall, with a hundred servants all his own. The queen had a good reason for this. For the donkey never simply soiled his bedding. Instead, each morning the bedding was found covered with heap upon heap of gold coins and jewels.
One day the king fell ill and all the doctors in the kingdom could not cure him. He felt his end was near. He said to the queen, "I have a last request. When you remarry . . . "
"Never!" interrupted the sad queen.
The king went on forcefully. "You must remarry. Although he is grown, the ministers will insist that Sean is not old enough yet to take the throne. And without a king, our neighbors will see this kingdom as an easy mark for conquest." He smiled, "Although, they do not know what trouble they would find if they came against you, my dear."
The queen tearfully stroked his hair and he clasped her other hand, kissing it gently. "But promise me that you will wait until you find a husband better and fairer than I. Promise me this, and I'll die happy."
The queen promised solemnly. And the king died, happy in the knowledge that there were none to be found as wonderful as he. The queen's ministers wanted her to remarry at once. She wept and told them of her vow, and defied them to find anyone as fair of face and as good of heart as her late husband. But the ministers insisted. At last the queen promised to look around for a husband.
She visited all the families that had unwed princes, but not one of these men could compare to the king. Unhappily, she soon decided that the only prince fairer and better than her late husband was her own son.
She told Sean that she would marry him, since he alone met the conditions of her promise.
Sean raged and argued with his mother, insisting that grief had driven her mad, determined as she was to go through with this evil plan. But the queen would not change her mind.
The prince was frantic. That night he went, taking one of the marvelous horses from the stables, to see his godfather, the Lilac Sidhe, who was a warrior of great prowess and wisdom. The Sidhe comforted him and told him what to do.
"To wed your mother would be wrong," said the Sidhe. "But you needn't refuse her outright. Instead, tell her to get you a cloak the color of the weather, before you give her an answer. Rich though she is, she'll never find a weather-colored cloak."
Sean thanked the Sidhe. The next day, he told his mother that he would answer her proposal after she had given him a weather-colored cloak.
The queen summoned the finest tailors in all the lands. "Make my son a weather-colored cloak at once," she ordered. "If you fail, you'll hang."
The tailors soon delivered the cloak. It was cloud soft, and the colors shifted constantly, now blue and shimmering, now grey and glimmering. Prince Sean did not know what to do and that night he again rode to the Lilac Sidhe.
"Demand a sword the color of the moon," said the Sidhe.
The queen ordered a moon-colored sword from the best silversmiths in the lands. She was in such haste, that they finished it the next day. It was a marvel, the silver was softly radiant, but the blade was as cold and sharp as moonshine on still water. The hilt was bound with moonstones and pearls and the weapon was beautiful but deadly. But the sight of it sent the prince to his room in a rage.
That night, the Sidhe said, "Now, ask her for a sword the color of the sun. At least it will keep her busy while we think of a way out of this."
The queen summoned all the goldsmiths in the lands and demanded that they create for her son a sword the color of the sun. She even gave her rarest jewels to add to its brilliance. When the sword was finished, it glowed with the fire of the sun, its burnished blade keen and sharp, and it was as beautiful as the moon-sword, but it was as lethal as a blazing star from close by. The pommel of the sword was capped with an emerald cut in the shape of a sunburst.
The prince went hopelessly to his godfather. The Lilac Sidhe was very vexed by the queen's success.
"Now," he said. "We must ask her something really hard. Demand the skin of her dear famous donkey, who gives her all her gold. Go ahead."
Sean did ask the queen, who thought it a strange wish, but did not hesitate. The donkey was killed and its skin brought to the unhappy prince.
His godfather found the poor prince punching the walls of his room until his hands were bleeding.
"Don't fret, young one," the Sidhe said. "Misery can turn to joy if you are brave. Wrap up in the donkey-skin. Leave here and walk until you can walk no more. If you give up everything for virtue's sake, you will be rewarded richly. Go. And take my stave. Your cloak and the two swords and some princely garments will follow you underground in this trunk. When you want them, rap twice with my stave. Now hurry."
Huddled in the ugly donkey-skin, and all smeared with soot to hide his fairness, Sean left the palace.
The queen was enraged to find him gone. She sent out one thousand soldiers to find the errant prince, but they all failed.
Sean went far, hunting for a place to stay. Now and then kind folk fed him, but he was so dirty they would never let him stay. At last he found a big farm, where a man was needed to empty the slops, clean out the pigsties, and do all the dirty jobs. The farmer thought that such a dirty youth would be just right for the job.
The prince was glad to agree. He worked hard among the fowl, sheep, and pigs. Soon, despite his filthy looks, he was known as a hard worker, and he was allowed to stay in a tiny hut near the edge of the forest. The simple farm folk did not know his name and never asked, so they called him Donkey-Skin.
Sean would roam the forest when he had free time, getting to know its ways, and the habits of its animals and the whispering of its trees. He found a small pond in a tangled thicket and a small cleared space at the top of a hill. On rest days, he would dive into the pond and scrub himself free of the muck and the dirt. Then, he would rap the Sidhe stave and summon his trunk. He would clothe himself in soft green-dyed leather breeches and taking one of his beautiful swords, go to the clearing to practice his weapons arts, which he had been taught all his life.
It so happened, that while Sean was relaxing on one certain rest day, that the son of the king to whom the farm belonged went hunting. On the way home, the prince stopped at the farm. The prince was named Viggo and he was a handsome, lively, friendly young man. The farmer's wife served him dinner. Afterwards he strolled around the farm and saw the hut beside the forest. The dwelling was locked, but Viggo noticed a trail leading from the back of the hut into the forest.
Curiosity led him to follow the trail and he soon came to the clearing in the woods. He gasped, amazed. For here was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, with sun-kissed skin and golden hair and eyes like emeralds sparkling in the sunshine. He was wielding an equally beautiful sword, but Viggo barely noticed it, having only eyes for the man. He fell in love instantly with the other's determined and noble face.
Viggo watched the sword play unobserved for a few more moments, and then hurried back to the farmhouse to ask the name of this strange young man. There he was told that the hut was the home of Donkey-Skin, a man so dirty that none but the pigs could stay near him.
The prince realized that these people knew nothing of the mystery. He asked no more, and went home. But he was haunted by the memory of the beautiful vision he had seen, and soon he fell desperately ill of a high fever.
The doctors were helpless. "Perhaps," they said to the queen, "your son has a secret sorrow."
The queen begged her son to say what troubled him and promised him anything he wanted.
"Mother," he whispered. "Have Donkey-Skin bake me a loaf of bread with his own two hands. Maybe that will help."
The queen was naturally puzzled by this request and so she consulted her courtiers as to who Donkey-Skin might be.
"That one?" said the youngest courtier. "He's a horrid, filthy youth, who keeps pigs on one of your farms."
"No matter," said the queen. "Donkey-Skin exists, therefore Donkey-Skin shall grant my son's wish. Viggo wants a loaf of bread made by this boy, and we must humor the sick. Have Donkey-Skin make the bread. Quickly."
Orders went out to the farmhouse posthaste.
Donkey-Skin had heard good things about the young prince. The queen's orders might give him a chance to show his true self. Whistling cheerfully, Sean hurried to his hut and the woods behind. After he had bathed, he dressed in his princely raiment and returned to the hut. For the bread, he used the finest flour and the freshest butter. He rapped with the Sidhe stave and taking up the sun-colored sword, pried the sunburst emerald off of the pommel and dropped it into the dough. When the loaf was baked, he donned his donkey-skin again and smeared himself in grime. He gave the loaf to a courtier, who hurried it back to the castle.
Viggo was so pleased that he sat up to eat. But he almost choked on the jewel embedded in the bread. But, seeing it, he felt better. He now had a key to the mystery that haunted him. The jewel was an emerald, shaped like a sunburst, with an odd type of mounting on the back. The prince summoned the court jewelers who could not tell him what kind of thing to which the emerald had been attached. Finally, one of the jewelers suggested summoning the weapons master.
The man was quickly brought to the prince and he examined the emerald. "It was placed on the pommel of a sword," he pronounced. "Like so," he said, drawing a picture for the prince. "But this is the finest emerald I have ever seen and the cut of it is unique. The sword it came from must be truly magnificent."
The prince wondered and pondered over this new clue. But the more he wondered, the higher his fever grew. When his parents heard that Viggo's fever was worse, they came running.
"Son," said the king. "Tell us what you want. We'll get it for you somehow."
"Father, see this emerald?" Viggo asked. "I will never rest until I find the sword where it fits. In the meantime, would you ask Donkey-Skin to make me a roast pheasant? I think that would help me."
Once again, orders were sent out to the farmhouse. This time Sean took his bow and arrow and went into the forest. When he had caught a big cock-pheasant, he stopped by the pool to clean himself and dress himself properly. He roasted the pheasant slowly, basting it with herbed sauce and butter. When it was done, he set the bird on a metal platter, and rapping with the Sidhe stave once again, retrieved the sun-colored sword. He carefully threaded the sword into the pheasant, retracing the path that the arrow had taken to kill it. He pushed the sword in until it hit the metal plate, but then such was the sharpness of that blade that it slid into the plate as well. Sean left it there, and securely wrapped the bird, plate and sword in a fine cloth. Once again, he dressed himself in the donkey-skin and dirt, and he gave the package to the courtier, with instructions that none but Prince Viggo should open it.
Viggo was quite happy to receive the dish from Donkey-Skin and unwrapping his meal, gasped in astonishment at the golden sword projecting from the bird. He withdrew the sword from the bird and the plate with one pull and bringing out the emerald, fitted it to the hilt of the sword. The court was astounded that the emerald locked securely into place and could not be removed.
The prince feinted with the sword and then on impulse brought it against a marble pillar in the hall to test its strength. Viggo and the rest of the court watched in shocked amazement as the sword went cleanly through the marble. The prince immediately tested it on every substance in the hall and the sun-sword cleaved everything, including other swords.
Viggo turned to his father. "I will bind myself to no man other than the one who can wield the sword which will not be harmed by this one."
The king agreed and a proclamation was sent throughout the kingdom and all the neighboring lands, inviting all those who would try for the hand of the prince to bring their blade to the castle and test it against Viggo's sun-sword.
First came other princes, then dukes and barons, and then nobles of all sorts. Commoners and tradesmen came as well. They all brought swords of every description, old swords handed down, new swords made for the purpose, plain swords and jeweled. But none could withstand a blow from the sun-sword and all were cloven in two.
At last the prince said, "What about Donkey-Skin? Does he have a sword?"
The courtiers laughed. "What would a poor fellow like him be doing with a sword? Besides, he'd too dirty to come to court."
"Fetch him," said the king. "We must omit no one."
Sean heard the heralds and knew well that it was his sword that had caused all the commotion. So he bathed and dressed in fine clothes, placing the weather-colored cloak over his clothes. He put a sword-belt around his waist and hung the moon-colored sword from it. When the heralds came for him, he slipped the donkey-skin on again and followed them to the castle.
Joking and poking fun of the poor lad in the large castle, the courtiers led him to Prince Viggo and his parents.
"Do you live in the hut at the edge of the woods?" Viggo asked.
"Yes, Majesty," Sean replied.
"Do you own a sword?"
"Yes, Majesty."
Viggo drew forth the sun-sword and held it up. "Will you test your blade against this one?"
Sean nodded and pulled forth the moon-sword. The court gasped at the beauty of the sword, but the queen noticed that the hand holding it was a fine one, long-fingered and graceful. But she kept what she saw to herself.
Viggo lifted his blade and brought it around, lightning fast, whistling through the air. But Sean was ready for him and the moon-sword came up and they met there, clanging together, but neither shattered. Viggo stood frozen.
But then he recovered and knelt in front of Sean. "I love you, whoever you are, and I would wed you if you will have me."
Sean shrugged his shoulders a little and the donkey-skin slid off and he was revealed in the weather-colored cloak in its shifting glory. The court had no doubt that the man before them was noble, if not in fact royal.
The king and queen begged him to marry Viggo, but before Sean could answer, the Lilac Sidhe came from on high, in a chariot pulled by violet horses. The Sidhe told the story of the brave prince.
The king was pleased to hear that Sean was a well-born prince, but the story merely confirmed what the queen had already guessed. But Viggo was more impressed with Sean's bravery and fell even further in love with him.
Invitations were sent out and especially to Sean's mother. She was not told whom Viggo was marrying and she came to the wedding with her new husband, a handsome sensible man. She was delighted to find that Sean was still alive and gave the couple her blessing.
The marriage of Viggo and Sean was feasted throughout the country with a three-month holiday. But their love lasted longer still. Indeed, it would have lasted forever, had they not died at the end of a hundred happy years.
Summary: A prince is forced to hide rather than marry his mother.
Rated: PG-13
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 2961 Read: 769
Published: 15 Aug 2009 Updated: 15 Aug 2009