Faerie Trinkets

My Child, My Fawn (A Little Brother and Little Sister retelling)

 "How is my child, how is my fawn?" Viveka murmured as she stepped over the dead body of her caretaker, the scissors in her hand still slick with the woman's blood.

She wandered out of the tiny room that had been her prison for the past month. Locked away by the man who had declared her the most beautiful girl in all the land.

"How is my child, how is my fawn?" she continued as she made her way through the dark corridors.

It was like her loved ones called to her, drawing her to where they were. The cold stone floor bit at her bare feet, a draft rushing up her thin nightdress and sending an ominous chill through her veins. But she persisted, as though in a trance

"How is my child, how is my fawn?"

She stumbled into the nursery, drawn by the plaintive cries of her daughter. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she found the child alive and well. Lifting her from the crib, she held her close to her chest.

"My child," she breathed.

The crying stopped. The room grew dark and cold. Glancing down at the infant in her arms, Viveka discovered only an empty blanket. Her heart cracked. She clutched it tightly and collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. Her vision blurred as a memory flashed through her mind.

Her daughter, still and unmoving in the crib. Face blue. Eyes lifeless.

And a familiar nursemaid standing by, a shadow of a smile on her lips.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Viveka rose to her feet. "My fawn," she whispered, hurrying back into the corridor. "How is my fawn?"

She roamed the halls in a daze, a soft bleating echoing in her ears. He was near. He had to be near. The sound grew louder and louder until she came to another room. A bedroom.

Her bedroom. The one she had shared with her husband.

"How is my fawn?" she muttered, certain he was there.

And he was. His warm, brown eyes stared right through her, still so human despite his cursed state. Still so sad, even in their lifelessness.

She hesitantly brushed her fingers against his stuffed body. He was gone. Her little brother was gone. She'd lost him. Again.

Another memory assaulted her, pulling her back to her childhood home. To the beatings and starvation at the hand of their stepmother. To the fear and desperation that led them to wander the forest alone.

And then the river.

"Don't drink! I'm cursed!" whispered the water.

"Little brother, no!" Viveka cried.

But too late. In place of her beloved brother was a tiny fawn, bleating and shivering at the river's edge.

As she mourned the loss of her human brother, she heard the familiar laughter of the wicked woman who'd brought them to this fate.

Viveka swallowed a sob. Crying would not bring them back. Magic would not bring them back. Love would not bring them back. Everything she had ever believed in would not bring them back.

She gripped the bloody scissors. There was only one way to fix this.

Again, her body moved of its own accord, and she floated through the halls like a ghost mourning her lost life.

"My child, my fawn," she mumbled.

A third room. This one unfamiliar to her. But the two women inside were not.

"You will be a beautiful bride, my love," cooed Viveka's stepmother as she combed through her daughter's dark hair.

"All our hard work paid off," her stepsister said with a sinister grin.

"My child, my fawn," Viveka said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The wicked women turned and scowled at the sight of her. "How did you get here?" hissed her stepmother.

Viveka took a step towards them. "My child, my fawn."

"I told Dietrich to send her to the gallows," her stepsister growled.

"Apparently he has some lingering affection for the little tart," her stepmother said. "I should've turned her into a fawn like her brother."

"I should've drowned her along with her daughter," her stepsister scoffed.

At the admittance of their crimes, something burst within Viveka. "My child!" she cried, raising the bloody scissors above her head.

Her stepsister screamed and hid behind her mother. "Help! Someone, help!"

Viveka's stepmother lifted her hands, but before she could use her power to block the attack, Viveka buried the scissors into the vile woman's throat. "My fawn!" she spat as the woman let out a guttural cry and collapsed to the floor.

"You're mad!" her stepsister exclaimed, dashing towards the door.

But she wasn't quick enough. Grabbing the girl's long hair, Viveka threw her down. "My child, my fawn," she said through gritted teeth as she straddled her jealous sister. "You took away all that I love. And now I shall take away all that you love."

With that, she stabbed the girl's chest, ignoring her useless pleas for mercy.

***

When Dietrich finally reached the screams of his bride, he realized it was too late. The scene was horrific: his bride and her mother lying dead in their own blood, their bodies broken and mutilated.

And there, in the corner, his first bride. His true love. His mad love.

She was rocking back and forth, her knees pulled to her chest as she mumbled over and over the same words she'd sobbed when he'd locked her away:

"How is my child, how is my fawn?"

Kneeling before her, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she didn't react. Her eyes were distant and crazed. How had he not seen it before? What sort of girl believed that a wild fawn was her brother?

He let out a sad sigh. The same sort of girl who would drown her own child and murder two complete strangers.

"Come along, my love," he said softly, easing her onto her feet. "Let's get you to your room before someone sees you here."