The White Hawk, a fairy tale

I have yet another creative writing assignment for Humanities. This one is a fairy tale from - yep, you guessed it - our fairy tale unit. We studied authors such as Hans Christian Andersen and the Brother's Grimm. It was a fun unit, to say the least, and I really enjoyed reading the un-Disney-fied, original stories like Cinderella and The Little Mermaid. Well anyway, my fairy tale was fun to write, yet it was a bit more difficult than I expected to finish. The romance seems quick and fake, but it was the best I could do in such a short story. Plus, most fairy tale romances are things such as "love at first sight" and have no foundation whatsoever, so I figure I'm covered in that department. Also, don't know why I can't ever end a story happily. Maybe, I'm just finally realizing that not real life almost always doesn't have that perfect happily ever after and that my stories don't either. Well, whatever the reason, I love my ending and I hope you do too. Enjoy!

The White Hawk

In a time and place history has long forgotten, there once stood a small cottage in the midst of a dense forest. To the outside observer the meager home looked quaint – in that humble sort of way: shutters clung from rusty screws, log walls were worn by time and use, a sparse garden lay tidy and well-groomed and dirt paths could be found leading out into the thicket. Within the tiny house lived a small family of four. They were a happy people, despite the many shortcomings of their lives, especially the young daughter. She was the happiest of them all, always smiling, never sad. The peasant girl knew as long as she had her family by her side, supporting and loving her, she would never need anything more in life.

Despite what the humble family might think, they were not the only ones who lived within the forest. An evil, miserable enchantress, exiled from her home country for practicing witchcraft, resided nearby and always kept an envious eye on the family, particularly the peasant girl. The enchantress witnessed the young girl’s unshakable happiness even in times of extreme difficulty and, over time, grew resentful. How could this poor, beggarly girl have more to be happy about than her, an all powerful enchantress? The thought was enough to drive the evil woman mad, and so, when it became too much for her to take, she put a curse on the young peasant girl.

“I condemned you to a lifetime of wings and misery!” the melancholy enchantress cried with icy hate. “Only when you find true happiness while in hawk form can you break my spell. But if you so happen to lose your true happiness, the curse will take hold of you again. So, search well, my pet, for true happiness is hard to find and harder yet to keep.”

With one last flourish of her hand, the enchantress finished the spell and the peasant girl was transformed into a beautiful white hawk with silver tipped feathers. The evil enchantress stood with a smirk on her face while she watched the she-hawk fly away in the setting sun, satisfied that the bird girl would never find genuine happiness and would be miserable for the rest of her short life, just like her.

The she-hawk flew away frightened and confused and headed to the only place she knew she could find comfort – home. But when she flew through an open window and into the kitchen where her family was gathered, she did not find the warm, open arms she was expecting. No, what she got was chaos. The family did not understand who this silver bird was, nor why it had flown into their home. They were startled by its presence and, like anyone else would do in their situation, they made great efforts to remove it, even to the point of hitting it with a broom. The she-hawk quickly realized that her family did not recognize her and never would. And so, with the sting of rejection sharper than she ever expected, the she-hawk flew away, never to return.

Meanwhile, in a kingdom not far from the little cottage, a king went out hunting. This king was not the finest of rulers; he was cruel, merciless and corrupt, not to mention a renowned hunter. His thirst for blood could not be quenched, and he yearned for that one great kill that would separate him from all others. His chance came that fateful day when he felt a drop of rain fall on his cheek as he walked under a tall tree. He looked up and swiftly realized that it wasn’t rain he had felt, but a tear drop from a crying . . . hawk? It took the king a second to confirm that the hawk was, in fact, weeping. In the next moment his eyes finally registered the unmatched beauty of the bird with its angelic white feathers tipped with a striking silver tint. Instantly, the king wanted – no, needed – to shoot and kill this bird. It would be the greatest prize of all, a trophy unrivaled in beauty.

Swiftly, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and strung it on his hunting bow, but he was too slow, or rather too fast. His sudden movement had startled the sad bird and sent her flying away with surprising speed. The she-hawk was already too far away for the king to hit with accuracy, but he tried anyway, hitting the bird in the wing. She went down like a rock, crashing into a slew of branches and finally landing with a thump right at the feet of the king’s heir.

The prince was startled at first by this unexpected gift, but quickly recovered when he heard the voice of his malicious step-father calling for someone to bring him the bird. Following his true nature, the handsome prince had compassion on the poor, beautiful creature and hid it from the king.

Over the next few weeks the prince kept the white hawk concealed while he treated the injured wing and helped it heal. Pretty soon the prince began to talk to the bird, telling her his doubts about becoming king, his fears that his brothers would grow up to be like his corrupt step-father, and his wish to find a woman he could love. It quickly became clear then, that the she-hawk was the prince’s only confidant, only friend. He could tell the hawk anything and the strange thing was the prince actually thought that the hawk understood him. She would nod her head in agreement when he vented about his step-father’s mistreatment or would nip tenderly with her beak at the prince’s strong fingers when he was feeling down. And her eyes. The she-hawks eyes had a certain human quality to them that spoke volumes. At first all the prince saw in those eyes was an acute sadness, but over time he began to see a sparkle of happiness to them.

Before long, the wounded wing was healed and the silver tipped hawk was able to fly again. But the prince didn’t want her to leave, nor, it seemed, did the hawk. Their friendship continued to grow and grow, until the prince couldn’t imagine his life without the bird and the sorrow was all but gone from the hawk’s eyes.
On one fateful day, the prince was feeling particularly verbose and ended up expressing his true feelings to the white hawk.

“I’m so happy I’ve found you, my hawk,” declared the prince with the utmost sincerity as he stroked the feathers of the she-hawk just the way she liked it. “You have no idea how miserable my life was before you. I had no one to talk to, no one to confide in. Now that I have you, my life feels less chaotic, more manageable. You always know how best to comfort me, even without words, and you are the best listener I know. Life would not be the same without you my hawk. I think . . . I think I love you. It’s silly, I know, to love an animal, but it’s true. I do love you.”

The she-hawk smiled – well, as much as a bird can smile – and in a flurry of bright lights the hawk was transformed back into her original form, a smiling peasant girl. The prince was shocked, to say the least, but the cheerful girl quickly explained her story and put him at ease. One question still had yet to be answered before the girl could feel the extent of her true happiness.

“Do you still love me, now that I’m not a bird?” she asked shyly, hesitantly.

“Of course!” the prince cried. “More so, in fact! Do you love me?”

“Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes!” she declared joyfully.

“Then please, will you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?”

Her smiled faltered for the first time since her transformation. “I can’t,” she said with pain obvious in her voice. “I’m just a meager peasant girl with no drop of royal blood in me. How could I marry you, a prince? Your step-father would never allow it.”

“We’ll elope! I don’t want to be king anyway, you know that. Let’s elope and leave this all behind. Please. All I want is to be with you.”

“But who will inherit the thrown if you denounce it? Your brothers? They aren’t much better than your malicious step-father and in some ways worse. You cannot deny it. The kingdom’s only hope for prosperity is you. Are you willing to subject your people to a lifetime of tyrannical rulers just so we can be together?”

His face faltered, with the understanding of what she said, but his conviction was still the same. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft. “You are the most important thing to me. I can never be happy without you by my side. It’s just not possible.”

“Happiness isn’t always the most important thing in life, my prince. Sometimes we have to sacrifice it for the good of others. I’m sorry,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t marry you. The kingdom needs you more than I do, and I couldn’t on good conscience marry you with so many relying on you to inherit. Please forgive me. I’ll always love you. Never doubt that.”

Before the prince could reply, the beautiful peasant girl had turned back into her hawk form, never to change again.

“Please,” the prince begged one last time. “You can change your mind. Elope with me and I promise you eternal happiness for the rest of your life. Just marry me.”
The glorious white hawk looked sadly at the handsome prince, once last time and slowly shook its head. Then she twisted quickly and flew away into the fading sunset. The prince watched her fly with heartbroken eyes until, with a flash of silver, she completely disappeared. As he turned to enter the castle, something shiny caught his eye. He bent to pick it up. It was a perfect white feather with a silver tip, a token to remember his true love by.