by Anna Mendell
The princess gazed at her faerie godmother. Rosa had heard that her godparents were all faerie, but, until now, she had not understood what that meant.
“Are you the one that made me beautiful?” she asked.
Her godmother nodded. “I gave you beauty, and others gave you different gifts besides.”
Rosa pondered all that she had heard. The lady laughed again and tucked one of Rosa’s golden curls behind her ear. “You are thinking so seriously, Rosa. Things will come to you in their proper season. But come; I have a gift for you.”
She rose and pulled out from the cupboard a simple dress, soft and blue, along with a dove grey cloak. “It will be much easier for you walk through the forest in these clothes than in that elegant dress you were wearing before. And I am afraid your old dress is torn.” Then she laid out a pair of calfskin shoes on the bed. “These will protect your feet.”
Rosa blinked at her gifts. “I’m not sure if I want to go out in the forest anymore. I want to stay with you and be safe.”
“Rosa, did I not promise you no wild beast will ever harm you while you are under my protection. Now get dressed and come outside. I wish to show you my garden.”
When Rosa was ready, her godmother showed her the garden and explained what each growing thing was, when it could be picked, and how it should be tended and watered. With her godmother’s promise to look over her, Rosa grew brave and ventured every day deeper into the forest, dancing from rock to rock and gathering the white hawthorn flowers that grew in profusion throughout the wood.
One day, when she was napping in the cool shade, Rosa woke to a robin chirping high up in the branches of a tree. She espied the robin’s nest and was overpowered by the sudden desire to peek into it.
She shimmied up the trunk, and perched herself on the lowest branch in triumph. Climbing a tree was much easier than she had thought! Her heart bounded faster and faster as she climbed higher and higher up. She was almost at the top when a branch bent with a terrifying crack under her weight. For a breathless instant she was falling, but she flung out her arms, grabbed at the outreaching branches, and wrapped her limbs against the trunk. She remained motionless for a while, trying to still her breathing while her heart throbbed painfully against her chest.
All thoughts of the robin’s nest were forgotten. Rosa just wanted to make her way down as quickly and safely as possible. But then she discovered, much to her dismay, that climbing down was much trickier than climbing up. Rosa’s foot floated in indeterminate space below her, her body trembling like a leaf in the air, while she blindly felt for footholds.
She slid down to sit on the high bough with a loud groan. It was only midday, and she knew her godmother would not look for her for hours! The thought of being trapped in the tree until it grew dark was unbearable and sent tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.
“Child, why are you crying?” A commanding voice from below broke through her sobs.
Rosa quickly dried her eyes and peered down through the branches. Below her stood a tall woman slender and straight as a spear-shaft. She wore a cloak that blended with all the colors of the forest, and her hair blazed the brightest red that Rosa had ever seen. At her side was a wolf, his coat silver and his eyes a yellow gold.
At the sight of the wolf, Rosa’s breath stuck in her throat.
The woman repeated her question with an impatient edge to her voice.
“I am stuck,” Rosa replied in a wavering tone.
The woman with flaming hair sternly gazed up at Rosa. “You should be able to climb down from the tree, for the branches are close enough together. It is your fear which stops you. Come down from the tree, child. You will not fall. “
Rosa nervously looked down from her height, the fear of falling, along with the presence of the wolf, made her hesitate.
“If I fall, will you catch me?” she finally asked.
“I have just told you that you will not fall.”
“Do you promise that the wolf will not eat me, if I come down?”
At this the woman smiled. “My wolf harms no one under my protection. You are quite safe.”
The woman’s words reminded her of her godmother’s promise, but still Rosa hesitated.
“Princess, does fear grip your heart so strongly that you doubt my word? Climb down from the tree.”
Rosa felt herself grow flushed with shame, and she stood upon the branch to try again. She lowered herself further and further down, her leg dangling precariously from the tree-limb, until, with a sinking heart, she realized she could not pull herself back up. Then she found a firm foothold and dropped down from the tree’s lowest branch.
Rosa stood before the woman, unable to tear her gaze from the piercing yellow eyes of the silver wolf who stood up to the woman’s breast.
“You are not still afraid?” the woman asked sharply.
“I think this wolf once tried to eat me.”
“Nonsense. If my wolf had wanted to eat you, then he would have. You may touch him. He will not harm you.”
Rosa wasn’t so sure, but a fierce desire awakened inside her to prove that she wasn’t afraid, so she reached out to brush the fur on the back of the wolf’s neck. The wolf’s hot breath panted against her face, but he did not twitch or otherwise give a sign that he noticed her except by peering back at her with his golden-yellow eyes.
“What is his name?” Rosa asked.
“You may simply call him Silver Wolf, for you would not be able to say his true name.”
The princess fixed a curious gaze at the woman with the flaming hair. She recognized the serene, ageless look on the woman’s face and realized that she stood before a faery.
“May I ask what I should call you?”
“I am the Lady of the Hawthorn Wood, which is this wood in which you stand, and that is what you may call me.”
“Oh, I thought my godmother was the lady of this wood.”
“You are both mistaken and correct. Mistaken, because the one whom you think of is not mistress of these parts, though she often comes to visit me. Her true home is an island, full of cypress trees, perfumed cedars, and warm breezes, though, when she abides here, she stays in her own house. But you are correct as well, because I am also your godmother.”
“Oh,” said Rosa, “godmother mentioned that I had others.”
“Indeed? You have seven. You should call your other godmother the Green Lady. Her greenness is different than mine. She is the greenness of new life, though she is by far the eldest among us. I am all the colors of the Hawthorn Wood. I am stone, earth, water, the ore that can be found under the earth, the ruby that can be mined from the caverns nearby, and the red hawthorn berry.”
She leaned over and took the princess’ hand. “My wolf here will be your companion for as long as you stay in my forest. You should obey him, for he knows the laws of this place and he will look after you and protect you. I will visit you again when my wolf says you are ready.”
Rosa responded with a deep curtsey, and the red haired lady disappeared in the trees and the undergrowth.
The princess stared at the wolf in awe. He exuded a regal air of power, and she could feel the wildness deep within him. She no longer believed that the wolf would harm her, but she was mystified over what to do with him. Perhaps speaking to the beast was the most fitting.
“I am going back to my godmother’s house. You are welcome to come with me if you like.”
The wolf gave no sign that he had heard her, but, as she walked back home, he followed her with dignified, firm padded steps. When she reached her godmother’s, the wolf would not cross the threshold, but remained outside.
Rosa’s godmother was within, and the princess excitedly related her adventure.
The Green Lady spoke, “I was wondering when the Mistress of the Hawthorn Wood would show herself to you. She has bestowed upon you a great favor in giving you such a companion.”
Rosa nodded, but then said, “Yes, but I am not sure what to do wi
th him. He does not seem to want to be friends.”
“I wouldn’t try to do anything with him. He is a companion for you, and so you should accept him. You will soon discover what kind of friendship may be had after you spend some time together. He may not be sure of you either and is waiting to discover what sort of young girl he is being asked to watch over.”
Rosa went to the window to look out at the wolf, but did not see him. “He is gone!” she cried.
“He will come and go as he pleases, I suspect,” the Green Lady said, “You will see him again soon.”
The princess went over to her godmother. “The Lady of the Hawthorn Wood said I should call you the Green Lady.”
“You may if you wish.”
“Oh,” said the princess, “I was hoping I could still call you ‘godmother.’”
Rosa’s godmother broke into a warm smile.
“I would like that as well,” she said.
WHEN Rosa left her godmother’s house the next day, the Silver Wolf was waiting for her at the edge of the glade. As the days went by, the grave mood surrounding the wolf lessened, and she took to chatting with him about her godmother and the life she used to have at the castle, but she could not tell if he understood her as he watched her with his yellow eyes. She also shared her lunch with him, a little bit of bread and cheese and ripe berries gathered from the bush, but she had the impression that he did not particularly enjoy their meals and ate only to be polite.
Sometimes the Silver Wolf would bound off ahead of her, disappearing into the woods, then she would later find him observing her from a distance. But he would not leave her for long.
Other times the wolf guided her through the forest, intruding upon her path, pressing her in a different direction with his heavy weight. There was a time when she willfully ignored his lead, clenching her jaw with stubborn determination, and so disturbed a bee hive. She fled and escaped with only a few stings. Sitting on a tree stump, she cradled her smarting arm, but the wolf offered her no sympathy and gave a snort that seemed to say, “Serves you right.”
The weeks passed by for the princess and her wolf, and Rosa gradually became aware that whenever they walked for a long period in a north-easterly direction away from her godmother’s house, the wolf would inevitably push her away from her course. Sometimes she would pretend that she did not notice him, and he would growl and snap his fangs until she was forced to follow.
Curiosity overwhelmed Rosa. What didn’t the wolf want her to see?
The next time Rosa left the cottage, she spent the whole morning digging holes in the garden. Rosa snuck a sideways glance at the wolf: his eyelids were half-closed, his tongue lolled out. If ever a wolf looked bored, it was the Silver Wolf.
Rosa smiled to herself and stretched herself under a tree, pretending to take a nap. When she opened her eyes, the Silver Wolf was gone. Rosa immediately rose and dashed off in the forbidden direction.
The sound of crashing branches behind her told Rosa that the wolf was not far behind, and that he was rapidly gaining. She broke into a full sprint, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. A thundering sound reverberated ahead and her flight was forced to a sudden halt at the edge of a wide, rushing river.
The Silver Wolf burst through the trees, snarling and bristling, crouching and snapping. Rosa gave a cry and retreated back into the wood. But the damage had been done. She had seen the other side of the river bank, with its silver glades and trees shrouded in purple shade, and the vision of it was seared into her mind.
WHEN SHE LAY ABED that night, Rosa could not sleep. Her heart yearned to cross the river, walk in the shade of those mysterious trees, and lie amid the silver grass.
The next morning, the Silver Wolf watched her with a displeased eye. At first she felt guilty for tricking him, but he was such a cold companion that her remorse quickly dissolved. Whispers of the forbidden wood haunted her, and the only thing that kept her from attempting a second escape was the knowledge that her godmother would not approve.
That evening during dinner, Rosa wanted to tell the Green Lady about what she had seen, but she could not. She was torn between her desire to please her godmother and to lie down in the shade of the dark and silver wood. She could not choose, and the moment passed.
“Tell me another story of the Golden King. You promised to tell me next about how he fought the Golden Gryphon on my tapestry,” she said instead.
Rosa and the Green Lady curled up before the fire and the lady began,
Long ago, when the kingdom was new, the Golden King wandered throughout his land and he came upon a Golden Gryphon trapped in a net. Though the cords were thin, the net was a faerie net, and the mighty beast could not free himself. The king asked the gryphon why he was trapped in the net, and the gryphon answered, though he was surprised to hear a mortal speak in the animal tongue. “A faery trapped me in his net for stealing a single ram from his flock, though its white fur shone like the sun.” “If I free you, will you serve me?” asked the king. The gryphon said he would do so, and, when the king freed him from the net, the gryphon looked down upon him. “I will serve you by sparing your life, for you are mortal and not strong enough to bind me.” He spread his vast wings and flew into the sky, but the king grabbed him by his lion’s tail and thrust him to the ground. Then the two wrestled for three days and three nights, the gryphon with its pinions and sharp beak, the king with his bare hands. On the morning of the fourth day, the gryphon’s strength failed and the king pinned him to the ground. “Will you serve me?” the Golden King asked again. This time the Golden Gryphon gave the king one of his golden feathers and his name. And whenever the king held the feather aloft and called out the creature’s name, the gryphon would come and was bound to do whatever the king asked of him. And the feather and the gryphon’s name were treasures passed down to each heir of the golden throne, and the gryphon saved the kingdom in a great battle one day, but that is a different tale.
By the time the story was finished, Rosa felt dazed, a steady ache thumping behind her eyelids. The Green Lady felt her forehead.
“You are feverish,” she said with a worried expression and then drew a cup of clear water from the well. “Drink this. It will dispel the cloud you are under.”
Rosa drank the fresh water, and it cooled the heat of her cheeks. The Green Lady then put her to sleep, smoothing her golden hair away from her forehead and kissing her cheek.
“Call me again if the fever returns in the night, and I will give you another draught from my well,” she said.
Rosa nodded and quickly fell asleep, but her sleep was restless, full of twists and turns, and she finally awoke with the burning desire to go to the river and gaze at the purple and silver wood.
She rose, put on her shoes, and tiptoed to the door. Lifting the latch, she peered through the dark night and did not see the wolf. She left her cloak hanging on the peg, since it was a warm, summer night, and set off toward the river.
Rosa drifted through the starlit forest until she reached the riverbank. The dark waters flowed smoothly and gently, and across the river lay the silver grass and the trees that whispered secrets unfathomable. The delicate branches cast intricate shadows in the moonlight, and the rustling leaves beckoned Rosa to come into their shade, where they would drape her in their darkness. Her soul strained at the river’s edge, drinking in the sight of them.
The moon shone across the river water and cast a path made by moonlight. In the path she saw stepping stones, shining and white, leading across water. Her heart leapt. She could cross the river!
Rosa nudged the first glowing white stone with her foot to make sure she was not dreaming. It felt solid enough. She leapt nimbly from stone to stone, her heart fluttering with joy—the path must have been made just for her so that she could find it at this exact moment in the moonlight.
Later, she wondered if it was because of her exultation, or perhaps a trick played on her by the treacherous stones, but, when she reached half-way across the rive
r, her foot slipped, and with a cry, she tumbled into the dark waters.
While the river had seemed gentle when she had sat on the bank, it was now an angry, tumultuous maelstrom. The river entirely submerged her, its churning waters dragging her down in their merciless current. In her panic she screamed. The waters slammed into her chest and lungs, choking her, paralyzing her. Icy fear gripped her heart.
Suddenly she felt something yanking her upwards, dragging her up onto the river bank.
It was her wolf! He had saved her, even though she had tricked him. Panting and trembling, she threw her arms around him, sobbing apologies against his wet dark coat.
The wolf let her clutch him and burrow her face into his fur, and he licked her face to dry her tears, so that she laughed and burst into tears again. He took her back to her godmother’s house, where the Green Lady stood by the door with the light of the fire behind her.
The next morning, the Green Lady did not bring up Rosa’s nighttime escapade, but only laid out the breakfast table in a somber silence. Rosa knew that her godmother was waiting for her to speak, and, all the while, the silence was growing more and more uncomfortable. At last she could stand it no longer and asked directly, “Godmother, did you send the Silver Wolf to rescue me?”
The Green Lady laid down her egg basket on the table with a deep sigh. “Yes. When I saw that you were gone, I realized you had seen something that you were not meant to see, and that you had been called to it. So I asked the Silver Wolf to bring you back.”
“If you had not sent him, I would be drowned. I am sorry for sneaking away. I knew I was going somewhere I should not. But the woods…” here she paused. “I could not forget them… Please forgive me.”
“My Rosa,” the Green Lady reached across the table to grasp her hand, “you do not need to say more. And there is nothing that I can say that your near escape from death does not say for me. There are some things for which you are ill-prepared. You were not meant to glimpse the other side of the river, for it is one of the overlapping margins between the faerie and mortal realms and holds a strong enchantment for mortals. It would have been dangerous to many stronger than you. Only…” and here the Green Lady smiled sadly, “I wish you could have spoken to me about your longing. I would have been able to help you.”