The Peasant Prophet and The Evil Queen

War Paint Once upon a time, there was an evil queen who ruled a small corner of the deep forest within a small but very strong and proud kingdom. Though the main rulers of the land were far more evil than this queen, because most did not understand her, and the hierarchy in the forest had different standards of and for authority, her reputation marked her as an unknown evil. This is far scarier to most outside the forest.

One day, as the queen was gathering herbs at the edge of the forest, she was spotted by a peasant farmer who found her quite attractive. The feeling was mutual. So they both decided to put their chores aside for awhile, and take a walk. Along the way, as things got a bit heated, the peasant farmer, not wishing to harm the queen told her, “My dear, you are among the most beautiful women I have ever met. I do believe I am beginning to have some feelings for you, but alas, you come from the forest, and I the mainland. I will be happy to visit you often, but if I find a normal woman from the kingdom who is suitable for marriage, I will leave you for her. It’s nothing personal, just letting you know so that you will not be disappointed.”

The queen smiled graciously, and said, “Fine.” You see, in her mind, this peasant farmer was dreaming fairytales if he thought that she, a queen, would catch feelings for him without knowing what his deal was. Now knowing what his deal was, in her eyes he was no longer even a peasant farmer, but a giant, glistening, um, rooster for her to ride on to relieve some tension.

So she rode that cock like a queen. She was happy. He was happy. They parted ways smiling.

The end?

Oh would that it were so.

They kept in touch. They met again. It was nice, friendly, and fun. Then the peasant started wanting to do things for the queen that did not seem appropriate for someone who had already prophesied how he was going to dump her when someone, anyone more state approved came along.

He wanted to know everything about her, and offered to bring her yearly tribute. The queen began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. Did he think that he could buy her, and this would make her see him as less expendable even though he made it very clear that he saw her as worth less than any other peasant woman who would give him some attention?

This was not so important as long as he was a good rooster. What he thought meant as much to her in that context as what a mushroom is thinking before being sauteed. He could think whatever he wanted as long as he was pleasant and there were no obligations.

It seemed though, that there would be obligations with this peasant. It seemed that he was trying to become a priority to her without her being a priority to him. He was planning to buy her heart, talk his way into it by being charming, and then break it.

So she broke it off.

The peasant was quite upset by this. He simply did not understand why she would not willingly volunteer to have her heart broken. He accused her of being unfair and evil.

“Poor dumb peasant,” she sighed as she raised her wand, “I leave you with a blessing. You will find your suitable peasant woman, and you will marry her and make a family with her.”

With a swirl of her cape, she then floated back into the deep part of the forest, vowing never to play with the peasants again.

This is the end.

I got this breakup for my birthday and I am officially too old for this shit.

I will vet partners based, at the very minimum, on ability to balance benevolence and rebellion.

A proper Santa should drive herdbeasts not be one.

IronWynch

My pronouns are whatever you're comfortable with as long as you speak to me with respect. I'm an Afruikan and Iswa refugee living in Canaan. That's African American expat in Israel in Normalian. I build websites, make art, and assist people in exercising their spirituality. I'm also the king of an ile, Baalat Teva, a group of African spirituality adherents here. Feel free to contact me if you are in need of my services or just want to chat.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

  • You’ve read the article, now get the t-shirt! :-D