The Paper Heart

Chapter 7 - Mistletoe King

Stepping through the blood-drenched snow, its own hide splashed and smeared scarlet, the unicorn advanced. There was nothing Jill could do. Tears dropped from her eyes.

"Death has so many guises," she said. "But surely none so beautiful. If it must be thus, then bring it and be swift!"

The unicorn lowered its head and came running. Jill squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart thumped. She breathed hard. Let the end be quick and painless.

Then, to her amazement, she heard a faint purring noise and felt a weight press against her lap. 

Opening her eyes, she found the unicorn was lying before her, resting its head on the white holds of her fown. The animal's wyws were gentle now. They blinked contentedly and a pink tongue licked the tears that had fallen on to her hand.

The Jill of Hearts stroken the unicorn's head, cleansing it of blood, washing it with snow and combing her fingers through the fine, silken beard.

A movement stirred in the oak trees that towered around the glade. From the dense growths of mistletoe that clogged the high branches, a small shape dropped on to the encircling ridge.

"You've done it now," said the hearty but warning voice of the Mistletoe King as he looked down on the girl and the unicorn.

"What have I done?" she asked.

"Fettered him in new chains," the little man-shape said. "But those are stronger bonds than the last. He will never be free from. Even now they strangle and he shall die before the morning."

"No!" she cried. "Why?"

"You have stolen his heart and pierced it with your beauty. How can he lice without it? A unicorn can never surcice once a maiden has tamed him. Your tenderness has brought this upon him. It was unwise of you to venture hither to this wood. See what ruin your sefish folly has caused? As he is cursed, so too must you be. You cannot rob the world of so rare a miracle and expect no punishment."

"Am I to die also?"

The Mistletoe King rustled his glossy leaves and the pearly berries jiggled. "Not so quick and not so easy," he told her. "Hear me now. This then is your portion of the curse. No one who strays across your path shall tread another. A daughter of the Royal House of Hearts you are, and hearts you shall collect - as freely as children gather daisies. None whom you wish for shall escape, save one, and that heart shall be the only one you truly desire. It is a bitter cup you have put your lips to."

"I did not want it so!" she begged 

"Yet the first sip has already been taken. The curse is placed and I am its witness."

With that, the Mistletoe King jumped back, up into the tree, and rolled along the branches until he merged with another evergreen cloud.

The girl gazed up at the oak unhappily. Then she patted the unicorn's head and bowed her own over it, gathering her ragged cloak around them. She remained there until the first rays of the winter dawn touched the rim of the easten hills and the unicorn lay dead and withered on her blood-stained lap.

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Here dances Hearts' fair daughter, see what the curse has brought her. Who can resist her rosebud lips? The bitterest soul they slaughter.