FAIRY TALE FLASH - The Kiss by Carol J. Douglas

As the snow falls outside, you will

claim your bride under the mistletoe...

Baldur had almost given up hope. A single white berry remained on the mistletoe branch hanging above the doorway in the castle. His mother, the goddess Frigg, had promised him that on the occasion of his 21st birthday, he would claim his future bride with a kiss under the mistletoe. He had never doubted his mother, but now as the festivities were winding down, he feared that her promise would not come to pass. The tale was told often enough. Her tears had saved his life when the enemy shot an arrow made of mistletoe into his heart. But when Frigg had wept over him and her tears fell upon the arrow, they became white berries and touched his heart bringing it leaping back to life.

“My son lives,” cried Frigg kissing Baldur, “I vow to bless the mistletoe and promise a kiss to all who stand beneath it. True love will be found. But with each kiss a berry will be plucked from the branch until it is bare and any magic will cease.”

“I promise you Baldur, that when you celebrate your 21st birthday as the snow falls outside, you will claim your bride under the mistletoe.”

The party began with many comely young maidens in attendance. Much ale was drunk and many a lady warmed herself by the fire before stepping a little farther until she was just under the mistletoe. But each time Baldur saw one step beneath the mistletoe, another young man approached her more quickly and stole a kiss plucking the berry. They walked off together laughing in delight.

Staring glumly at the lone berry on the branch, Baldur noticed a shadow coming closer. His heart leapt, until he became aware that an elderly woman was walking slowly toward the mistletoe. She reached her destination and stood, leaning heavily on her cane.

“Alas,” she cried, “will no one come and kiss this withered cheek? I do not seek romance, only comfort for I have lost my beloved son and am deeply grieved.”

The men in attendance either looked away or pretended not to hear. But Baldur was moved by compassion. He recalled how his own mother had told him of her great sorrow when she had believed he was dead.

“Old woman,” he said striding to her side, “I offer you comfort in the name of my own mother.”   And with that he bent down and kissed her wrinkled cheek.

Suddenly, a beautiful maiden was looking into his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and said, “I was told by a goddess that I would find my husband when he could see beyond youth and beauty and offer compassion to one who is grieving.”

With that she kissed Baldur fully on the lips. He was overjoyed and knew that he had found his beloved wife as he plucked the last berry from the mistletoe branch.

Carol J. Douglas writes from her home in Dublin, Ohio. She enjoys writing in many genres. Most of her published works are in Romance, Nonfiction and Children's poetry and stories. She has been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Woman's World Magazine, and Guardian Angel Kids ezine as well as other publications. Carol has always enjoyed Mythology and Classic Ancient Tales.  

Cover: Amanda Bergloff

Cover Model: Emelia Douglas

DOUBLE FAIRY TALE FLASH - I (Don't) Remember by Caitlin Berve AND Frankincense by Ellie Goss

I remember water: dripping, flowing, moving. I don’t remember the cold wetness on my bare feet.

I remember brightness, blind moments, and reflections. I don’t remember the color of your eyes bordered by their mask.

I remember leaves soft with decay: russet, gold, bronze. I don’t remember running.

I remember the taste of sweat pooling in the corners of my mouth. I don’t remember my scent.

I remember wild laughter, bubbling from our chests. I don’t remember leaving with your name lost on my lips.

I remember dark fur or hair. I don’t remember where I left my changeling skin.

Owner of Ignited Ink Writing, Caitlin Berve is a freelance editor, fantasy writer, and creative writing instructor. She is dedicated to helping others transform their writing so it lingers with readers because writing that lingers gets remembered and recommended. She is vice president of the Boulder Writers Alliance and an active member of CIPA, Writers’ Idea Factory, and 30th Street Fiction writers’ critique group. With a MFA in Creative Writing and Poetics and bachelors in Biochemistry, she is constantly searching for the next story she can’t put down.

“Franky, where are you? Here kitty-kitty, oh come on Franky, I have to get to school. Here kitty-kitty,” implored Veronica.

The cat Frankincense watched the scene from his hiding spot. His large green eyes, if spotted, would give away his hiding spot. But if his senses were right, he wanted to be able to see what was coming, what was about to happen. While the usually sleek black fur on his back stood a little more upright than usual and his ears lay flat against his head, it took all of his control to prevent the low growl from being emitted from where it sat in his throat. It wouldn’t be long now.  

As the mist emerged from under the locked door to the apartment Franky changed his mind about staying where he was to watch. Instead, he slunk back further into the recess of the air vent located over his owner’s bed in the open plan studio.  

He heard the screams, and the manicured nails of the young girl rip through the floorboard timber, followed with the type of silence that exists in an inhabited apartment.

The hum of a refrigerator, the low buzz of electrical movement through television and radio. All the while his nose filled with the smell of frankincense, the burnt incense from the previous night’s seance.

Elisha A Tasmanian writer, nestled between the Tarkine Forest and Cradle Mountain National Park. She has worn many hats; home builder, youth worker, hotel manager and more, but now with a little more time and chill she is ready to return to those pursuits that whizzed passed earlier in her journey!

Check out her website: https://eligoss76.wixsite.com/elishagoss

Follow her on Facebook: @1BunyipsBath

THESE TALES SPONSORED BY

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Edgar Allan Poe and the Jewel of Peru HERE

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Fairy Tale Flash for Spring - Beloved

All the assembled Elementals 

held their breath and waited...

Air waited impatiently, stamping her feet on the ground.

Fire wondered aloud why they were always kept waiting.

Earth said it had always been this way.

Winter moved off on the horizon and disappeared.

All was still.

A curtain of mist fell across the landscape, and the assembled Elementals all held their breath.

Then, the curtain parted, and she stepped from the Beyond in a delicate shimmering cloak that glittered with all the power of starlight and dreaming. Droplets of water most pure intertwined to form the sheer silver fabric that took four maidens to hold up

It was time for the flowers and the land to be awakened, and only her touch could do it.

All bowed before her when she walked by, and she nodded in their direction.

Where she passed, gentle rain called the flowers forth.

Air, Fire, and Earth all sighed. They knew they were in the presence of pure endless beauty, and their beloved one had returned.

The wait had been worth it, and the world bloomed into its Ethereal Spring.

Amanda Bergloff writes modern fairy tales, folktales, and speculative fiction. Her work has appeared in various anthologies, including Frozen Fairy Tales, After the Happily Ever After, and Uncommon Pet Tales.

Follow her on Twitter @AmandaBergloff

Check out her Amazon Author page HERE

HAPPY SPRING to all! Thanks for reading my story, and please leave a comment below. I'd love to hear from you! -Amanda