The Princess and the Swan
by Margaret Loescher
A birthday story for Iris, 14th May, 2020
Love from Mama
Once upon a time there was a princess. She was a young girl and she lived in a magnificent castle. She had no brothers or sisters and she played by herself. Her mother and father were always very busy with the affairs of court and ruling the country for they were the queen and the king. When the princess had been very little the servants had looked after her. They had dressed her and fed her and played with her and had taken her on walks through the grounds of the castle, a wonderous land where it was always spring and the gardens full of rambling roses, beds of iris and lilac bushes heavy with scented blooms
Now that she was a little older and a contemplative girl, the princess spent most of her time by herself. She was allowed to wander at will through the castle grounds, which were, indeed, idyllic, but she was never, not ever, allowed beyond the castle walls.
“Father, mother,” pleaded the princess, “I want to see the world! What is it like? Are their children like me? What do they do all day? Why can I not see the world outside the castle gate?”
The king spoke. “Our dearest one and only daughter, our treasure, our princess, we wish to always keep you safe and near. The world outside the castle gate is not for you. You may have anything you ask for but not that.”
Kings and queens have a way with making rules and the princess had no choice but to follow the rules so reluctantly she had to continue to play by herself and imagine the big world outside the castle gate.
A river ran through the castle grounds and, as it was always spring, its banks were green with reeds and alive with electric blue dragon flies, bees and butterflies. One day, while playing by the river she saw a swan with glorious white feathers. She marvelled at how the long neck dived down into the water to feed from the bottom and then, reappeared, the water droplets running off the neck, down on the back and back into the river.
“How clever you are!” exclaimed the princess, “And how beautiful! Are you fast, too? How far can you swim?”
“I can swim a long way.” Said the swan.
“Do you ever swim such a long way that you leave the castle grounds and go into the world outside?”
“Indeed, I do.” Said the swan.
“Tell me, please,” said the princess, “what is it like out there?”
“Have you never been?”
“No,” said the princess, sadly hanging her head, “I am not allowed. I must stay safe and near for I am a one and only daughter, a treasure, and a princess, you see.”
“Well,” said the swan, swimming closer, “then I shall tell you.” And the swan generously painted with words the most enticing picture of changing seasons, of games and raucous laughter, of argument and bargaining, of selling and buying and bicycles and balls, of mountains and oceans, and school gardens and friendship. As he spoke the princess’s eyes widened in wonder.
“Oh!” She cried, “How I long to see it all for myself!”
The swan raised himself out of the water, opened his giant wings and shook them and then settled back down and left his wings in a perfect white arch across his back. The princess had an idea.
“Can you not carry me with you on your journey along the river and out into the world? As long as I stay on your back, wrapped in your glorious wings, it will be as if I had never left the castle grounds. I will see the world but I will not really be breaking my father’s rule, will I?”
The swan knew that he should not break the rules of the king but the little princess looked so sad and weary with longing and he felt guilty that he had made it worse by telling such an enticing story that he felt compelled to honour her wish.
He moved over to the bank and let the princess climb carefully on to his back and settle down into his glorious white feathers. Her weight felt easy on him and a comfort. They went along the river, winding through the beautiful castle grounds, chatting all the way, with the bushes and trees heavy with blossom hanging over the water, majestic reflections, the dragonflies darting above and around, the fish disappearing darts as they passed, the ducks quacking in greeting, the swallows, dipping down, rising high above, and the sky always blue. Then the river passed under the little bridge on top of which was the castle gate. The swan lowered his head and great neck and the sailed effortlessly underneath and out into the world.
Oh, the things she saw! Children playing, running and laughing in groups! The wind blowing leaves that had fallen from the trees, for out there is was autumn. People holding hands and sharing food and throwing crumbs out to the swan who stopped to collect them. Water falling from the sky, driven by a wind, cold against her cheeks and then the sun again and in between a rainbow.
When the swan and the princess arrived back inside the castle grounds the princess was speechless, thrilled by the things she had seen. Silently she smiled, wide and clear, nodded in thanks to the swan, and went home to her magnificent bed.
And so a wonderous friendship began. Each day the swan waited for the princess. He swam near the bank and she climbed on to his back, sat down amongst his glorious feathers, disguised from view, and they floated down the river to see what the world had to offer that day.
Together they saw the seasons change, the people love and argue, sometimes with words, sometimes with fists. They saw festivals and celebrations and listened to the sounds of chatter and music. How complicated the world was! And beautiful! And exciting! And sometimes sad. How she longed to be part of it all.
But the swan was careful never to come close enough to the bank so that the princess could hop off. And the princess was careful never to ask this of the swan. Her word was good, as was his. And for the short, sweet years of her youth, this was how it was: the world outside the castle grounds was only ever the world seen from between the glorious feathers of the swan.
But swans age faster than princesses and by the time the princess was nearing her eighth birthday the swan was old. His swimming slowed, his head bowed lower and he tired easily.
“Take me further!” whispered the princess as they floated down stream.
“I cannot.” The swan sighed. “I am tired.”
Their journeys outside the castle grounds grew shorter and the princess grew restless.
Then one day as she approached the bank of the river and called to the swan, he swam closer but did not come to the bank.
“Today, I cannot take you with me.”
“Why ever not? I am a princess and I am almost eight and you will do as I ask!”
“I am sorry, but I cannot. Today I will forever join the river, I must become the reeds, I will melt into the songs of the children along the bank. This is a journey I take alone.”
“That is silly!” said the princess, now quite outraged. “How can you possibly join the river? Become the reeds? Melt into laughter? Leaving me all alone! I want to be part of the world, too!”
“You are angry today, my little one, but tomorrow you will understand.” And with that the swan plucked two perfectly white, glorious feathers from his breast, swam over to the bank and handed them to the princess, who wiped her eyes dry and took the feathers.
“Thank you.” She said, for princesses, however upset, are always polite.
Then the swan swam away. The princess sadly took the feathers to her magnificent room where she had all manner of treasures and toys and entertainments. She sat on her bed and felt very alone. Then she stroked the feathers and at once she felt like she was swimming in the river, growing tall up towards the sun, like the reeds, and her throat filled with the lightest of laughter. She tucked the feathers under her pillow.
The next day she went down to the river but the swan was not there. Nor the day after, nor the day after that. The princess missed her friend and felt sure she would never see the outside world again. Then, on the morning of her eighth birthday she awoke with a start. The queen and the king, her mother and father were standing at the end of her magnificent bed, with all the servants laden with gifts. But in front of them all was a small boy who held on a pillow a key.
The king spoke. “Our dearest one and only daughter, our treasure, our princess, we wish to always keep you safe and near. But last night a swan visited me in my dreams. A swan with glorious white feathers and he told me I must give you the key to the gate of the castle. I am king and I do as I want, but the swan spoke with such reverence I had to obey him. Here, my darling, is the key to the castle gate. From now on you may come and go as you please.”
The princess leapt out of bed, took the big key in her hand and embraced her mother and father lovingly. And from that day forth the princess came to know the world outside the castle walls as a place of good friendship, challenges and the changing of seasons, and always felt, as she adventured through it, that she was held in the glorious white feathers of a loving swan.
~ The End ~
Comentarios