Fic: The Mermaid's Wish (1/1)
Jan. 3rd, 2008 07:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soc_puppetFandom: xxxHolic/The Little Mermaid (closer to the Andersen version than the Disney one, but still different)
Summary: Between the two of them, H.C. Andersen and Disney only managed to get one thing really wrong.
Fic: The Mermaid's Wish
The witch's abode lay beyond the king's lands, couched in treacherous territory populated by strange and awful creatures and bordered by whirlpools and fast-moving currents. These gave the child only a moment's pause, so much did she want her wish to be granted.
The trip took a good three hours for all the maneuvering around obstacles it required. At one point the child had to stop and rest in a forest of polyps, the animal-plants leaning chokingly close to her and the calls of unknown beasts sounding from near-by. She stayed only to catch her wind and then was off again to find the witch.
She found the outskirts of the witch's land at last: a clearing in the craggy rocks with a cave tucked in a cliff seam, hardly recognizable past the overgrown gardens. This she made her way through only to discover that it narrowed and turned upwards. Soon she was making her way through a round stone tunnel, reaching for the end. Finally the lip of the tube was in sight, sheltered by a small wooden roof and a device with a rope and a bucket. With a final lurch, she grasped the lip of stone and heaved herself upwards, breaking the surface of the water and blinking in the light.
A tall woman with long dark hair stood not far from the stone tunnel's exit, wearing elaborate clothing and a blank expression. Not far behind her was a boy about the child's age, a strange craft of wire and glass balanced on his face; a black lump of something was settled in his arms. The child focused her attention on the woman. "You are the Sea Witch?"
The woman - the witch - nodded. "I am," she answered. Behind her, the boy behind her rolled his eyes.
The child wet her lips before speaking, tasting fresh water rather than salt there. "It is said that you can grant wishes." Here her words halted, hesitant and hopeful both.
The witch nodded again. "This is so. However, for every wish there is a price which must be paid, and often it is more than they would pay." Her gaze was even and measuring.
The child only had a moment of hesitation, but that was soon gone; she had come so far and through so much that, now her wish was just within reach, it would be a waste to give it up. "I want to become human," she admitted.
The witch's gaze turned interested, and the boy's openly shocked. "I see," she answered. "I can grant you this wish, but there is a price."
"Only tell me what it is," the child told her earnestly.
Seeming satisfied, the witch sent the boy to fetch something; he returned shortly with a glass vial of clear liquid, glowing faintly in his hands. The witch held it out for the child. "Drink this on your return home, and then make your way to the shore; you will be human by the time the moon reaches its peak."
The child looked longingly at the vial. "And what must I give in exchange?" She thought wistfully of her garden back home, with its beautiful statue and sun-like plants, and of the shells her grandmother had hung on her fins when she first visited the surface world.
The witch pressed the vial into her hand. "The price is your voice. After taking this potion, you are to retire from speaking. Should you utter even one word, you will return to the form you have now and never again will you be able to become human."
The child's hand closed around the bottle, her throat suddenly dry. "All right," she replied, once she had mustered the will to speak. She clutched it to her chest and, swallowing, dove back down into the depths.
As she left, she could just make out the boy asking, "Will she be able to do it?"
The witch's answer, however, was rendered nothing more than a foreign mumble by the water closing overhead.
—fin—
See, now, in my version, the mermaid ends up talking for some reason (which I imagine is probably important), and then the prince follows her to the sea. But in my version, mermaids also have souls, so.
Also, this totally counts as yesterday, because it's before my usual waking hours. Drive-by post, will reply to comments later, etc.
The original Andersen version can be found at the Gutenburg Project web site.
Summary: Between the two of them, H.C. Andersen and Disney only managed to get one thing really wrong.
Fic: The Mermaid's Wish
The witch's abode lay beyond the king's lands, couched in treacherous territory populated by strange and awful creatures and bordered by whirlpools and fast-moving currents. These gave the child only a moment's pause, so much did she want her wish to be granted.
The trip took a good three hours for all the maneuvering around obstacles it required. At one point the child had to stop and rest in a forest of polyps, the animal-plants leaning chokingly close to her and the calls of unknown beasts sounding from near-by. She stayed only to catch her wind and then was off again to find the witch.
She found the outskirts of the witch's land at last: a clearing in the craggy rocks with a cave tucked in a cliff seam, hardly recognizable past the overgrown gardens. This she made her way through only to discover that it narrowed and turned upwards. Soon she was making her way through a round stone tunnel, reaching for the end. Finally the lip of the tube was in sight, sheltered by a small wooden roof and a device with a rope and a bucket. With a final lurch, she grasped the lip of stone and heaved herself upwards, breaking the surface of the water and blinking in the light.
A tall woman with long dark hair stood not far from the stone tunnel's exit, wearing elaborate clothing and a blank expression. Not far behind her was a boy about the child's age, a strange craft of wire and glass balanced on his face; a black lump of something was settled in his arms. The child focused her attention on the woman. "You are the Sea Witch?"
The woman - the witch - nodded. "I am," she answered. Behind her, the boy behind her rolled his eyes.
The child wet her lips before speaking, tasting fresh water rather than salt there. "It is said that you can grant wishes." Here her words halted, hesitant and hopeful both.
The witch nodded again. "This is so. However, for every wish there is a price which must be paid, and often it is more than they would pay." Her gaze was even and measuring.
The child only had a moment of hesitation, but that was soon gone; she had come so far and through so much that, now her wish was just within reach, it would be a waste to give it up. "I want to become human," she admitted.
The witch's gaze turned interested, and the boy's openly shocked. "I see," she answered. "I can grant you this wish, but there is a price."
"Only tell me what it is," the child told her earnestly.
Seeming satisfied, the witch sent the boy to fetch something; he returned shortly with a glass vial of clear liquid, glowing faintly in his hands. The witch held it out for the child. "Drink this on your return home, and then make your way to the shore; you will be human by the time the moon reaches its peak."
The child looked longingly at the vial. "And what must I give in exchange?" She thought wistfully of her garden back home, with its beautiful statue and sun-like plants, and of the shells her grandmother had hung on her fins when she first visited the surface world.
The witch pressed the vial into her hand. "The price is your voice. After taking this potion, you are to retire from speaking. Should you utter even one word, you will return to the form you have now and never again will you be able to become human."
The child's hand closed around the bottle, her throat suddenly dry. "All right," she replied, once she had mustered the will to speak. She clutched it to her chest and, swallowing, dove back down into the depths.
As she left, she could just make out the boy asking, "Will she be able to do it?"
The witch's answer, however, was rendered nothing more than a foreign mumble by the water closing overhead.
—fin—
See, now, in my version, the mermaid ends up talking for some reason (which I imagine is probably important), and then the prince follows her to the sea. But in my version, mermaids also have souls, so.
Also, this totally counts as yesterday, because it's before my usual waking hours. Drive-by post, will reply to comments later, etc.
The original Andersen version can be found at the Gutenburg Project web site.
