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31_days2011-10-02 03:50 pm
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-10-02 03:50 pm
[Oct 2] [The Storyteller] Gifts
Title: Gifts
Day/Theme: 2. Stars are the pearls of the poor
Series: Jim Henson's The Storyteller
Character/Pairing: Storyteller
Rating: PG
It was a cold clear night and the Storyteller was perched in a window instead of his usual spot by the fire. The sky was blue behind the trees, fading to a deep, velvet behind the stars, and an early frost was already gleaming in the grass. The Storyteller kept his eyes on the gleaming silver overhead though, stars highlighting his lined face.
"A gift from a shepherd," he said. Warm by the fire, his Dog looked up with a puzzled sound.
"They're just stars," he said. "Can't give them to anybody."
"There was a shepherd who managed it," the Storyteller said. "A shepherd in love with the willful daughter of a blacksmith. She was a beauty, bright eyes and dark hair and a voice as sweet as birdsong. She would sing as she baked and over the fields, the shepherd would smell the bread and hear the song, and long to have her for his wife.
"He would visit in the evening, bringing flowers from the fields, or fish from the streams, and sometimes they would sing together. He told her of the cottage he was building by the lake and that when it was finished, he would come ask her to marry him. She always laughed and told him she would answer when she saw it.
"But one autumn day when all the world was red and yellow, a rich man was passing by and stopped for the blacksmith to shoe his fine black horse and while he waited, he heard the daughter singing in the kitchen. He had a big manor house with servants aplenty, but his home was not a merry one, and he thought a pretty, singing wife might be the very thing he was without.
"So he gave the girl a necklace of pearls, the finest thing she had ever owned, and rode away, promising to be back tomorrow. She wore it and preened until she heard the shepherd coming home. Then she hid it away under her pillow.
"The shepherd had also brought her a gift. A tiny orphan lamb to be her pet and she fed it and laughed and tied a ribbon from her hair around its neck. then the shepherd told her, 'I am building a roof on the house by the lake and when it is done, if it pleases you, I will ask you to marry me and it will be yours.'
"And the daughter smiled at him, and wished him luck, but she was still thinking of the necklace under pillow and what the rich man might ask tomorrow.
"The next day, the rich man returned with a gown of blue silk and had her wear it for him and sing. He left and she put the dress away. The shepherd came too, with another gift, a shawl of softest, whitest lambs wool. She sang for him and he ate some bread, and asked her who the man on the fine black horse had been. She told him that it had been a customer of her father's and he went on his way.
"First thing the next morning, the rich man was back, this time with a veil as fine as mist for her dark hair. He told her when he returned tomorrow, he would take her across the sea to his great manor house and make her his wife. All day she imagined it, the wife of a wealthy man from far away and she would be lady of his grand house and wear silks and pearls and want for nothing.
"She put the veil away when the shepherd came again, but this time he did not come in. He gave her a ring he had carved from white wood, something he said, to remember him by. He would have to work hard and long to have his house ready before winter, he said, and he would not be able to visit as he had, but if she would wear it and think of him, when he returned, he would bring her his mother's old ring and they could be married.
"Her heart was touched by this, and she took the ring and put it on, and he told her goodbye until his work was finished. And she thought that it might be good to be a shepherd's wife, to have a house of gray stone by the water and the soft lambs and the sweet flowers, and a strong, young husband to sing to.
"But the next day, when the rich man came, she was dressed in her necklace, her silk dress, her white shawl, her veil, her carved ring, and had her pet lamp on a cord. She would see his fine house, she told herself, and decide then. He loaded her up in a carriage lined with gold and furs and they began down the road to the sea.
"Three days it took to reach the sea where the rich man's boat was waiting for them. She was bored of riding and singing, but all the sailors saluted him, and the girl felt very grand on his arm as he led her aboard. Her lamb was not so impressed however, and pulled from her grip, leaping the ramp, back to shore.
"Oh!" the girl cried. She would've jumped after to catch her pet, but the rich man told the crew to move on. She begged them to stop, saying she only needed a moment to run and bring her lamb back, but the man refused. She would have silken cats and dogs with jeweled collars, he promised, and tame gazelles and clever monkeys and bright birds from the other side of the earth. She would have no need of a dirty little farm animal and no wife of his was going to run and chase after anything.
"Then, he turned his back on her to order the crew, and the blacksmith's daughter, proud, beautiful, and as willful as a wild ram, turned her back on him and leapt over the side as easily as if it had been the rail fence at home.
She lost her veil in the water, but climbed ashore and ran after the fleeing lamb. She almost had it until a dog barked and sent it running even faster. When she finally caught it, the rich man's ship was far out to sea. He hadn't waited.
"The lamb was still pulling in the direction of home, so she tossed her wet hair back and let it lead her. It took her through the town where a boy grabbed her necklace and broke it, scattering pearls all over the street. The people there scrabbled and fought over them and the girl ran after her lamb to get away from them all. She had no other jewels but her carved ring, but didn't dare lose that too.
"The lamb led her into the woods where the branches and brambles tore her blue silk dress to tatters. When night fell, the wind cut through the thin rags and only her soft woolen shawl kept her from freezing to the bone. Winter was coming, hard and fast on the heels of the red autumn. Her shepherd would be hard at work on his roof to make it warm and dry in his little stone house, and she clutched his three gifts tight to keep off the cold.
"Three days by carriage is many more days on foot and off the road and she was lost and hungry before long. She would have traded every pearl necklace in the world for a bite of bread or some good fried fish. Her feet ached from the walking and from the cold frost and she shivered in her rags, even in sunlight. Still the lamb lead her on until it romped over a hill where there were more sheep.
"Tending them, with his little stone house behind him was her shepherd. He stared at her, with her dress in rags and her hair a black tangle, and she ran to him. He took her inside, though the roof wasn't finished yet, and let her sit by his fire. He gave her his dinner and his old boots to wear and she told him everything; about the rich man, and his useless presents, and the long carriage ride and the long walk back, and how even if the shepherd no longer wanted her for his wife, she had to tell him that his gifts had saved her.
"The shepherd was quiet then, and she wept, thinking she had lost him. He reached for hand and she thought he meant to take back the ring he had made her, but he took her arm and lead her out to a pool by the lake. 'I don't have pearls to give you he said, but I can dress you in diamonds.' And when she looked into the pool, she saw the stars reflected all over her ragged dress and wild hair, clear and bright as diamonds in the dark water.
"He showed her his mother's old ring, a thin braid of copper, polished bright as gold. She wept again, this time for joy, and told him she would marry him as soon as she could brush her hair, whether the house was finished or not. He put the ring on her finger and she kissed him."
"And?" the Dog asked.
"They were married the next day," said the Storyteller. "She tended the sheep while he built the roof and by summer, she had someone new to sing to. They named the child Star and every night it was clear enough, they took her out to the pool to let the diamonds shine around her."
The Dog was silent at that and the Storyteller was finally cold enough to take his seat by the fire. He rubbed his hands and held them out to warm them. The Dog noticed for the first time a small wooden ring on his little finger.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, and the Storyteller smiled.
"It was a gift," he said.
Day/Theme: 2. Stars are the pearls of the poor
Series: Jim Henson's The Storyteller
Character/Pairing: Storyteller
Rating: PG
It was a cold clear night and the Storyteller was perched in a window instead of his usual spot by the fire. The sky was blue behind the trees, fading to a deep, velvet behind the stars, and an early frost was already gleaming in the grass. The Storyteller kept his eyes on the gleaming silver overhead though, stars highlighting his lined face.
"A gift from a shepherd," he said. Warm by the fire, his Dog looked up with a puzzled sound.
"They're just stars," he said. "Can't give them to anybody."
"There was a shepherd who managed it," the Storyteller said. "A shepherd in love with the willful daughter of a blacksmith. She was a beauty, bright eyes and dark hair and a voice as sweet as birdsong. She would sing as she baked and over the fields, the shepherd would smell the bread and hear the song, and long to have her for his wife.
"He would visit in the evening, bringing flowers from the fields, or fish from the streams, and sometimes they would sing together. He told her of the cottage he was building by the lake and that when it was finished, he would come ask her to marry him. She always laughed and told him she would answer when she saw it.
"But one autumn day when all the world was red and yellow, a rich man was passing by and stopped for the blacksmith to shoe his fine black horse and while he waited, he heard the daughter singing in the kitchen. He had a big manor house with servants aplenty, but his home was not a merry one, and he thought a pretty, singing wife might be the very thing he was without.
"So he gave the girl a necklace of pearls, the finest thing she had ever owned, and rode away, promising to be back tomorrow. She wore it and preened until she heard the shepherd coming home. Then she hid it away under her pillow.
"The shepherd had also brought her a gift. A tiny orphan lamb to be her pet and she fed it and laughed and tied a ribbon from her hair around its neck. then the shepherd told her, 'I am building a roof on the house by the lake and when it is done, if it pleases you, I will ask you to marry me and it will be yours.'
"And the daughter smiled at him, and wished him luck, but she was still thinking of the necklace under pillow and what the rich man might ask tomorrow.
"The next day, the rich man returned with a gown of blue silk and had her wear it for him and sing. He left and she put the dress away. The shepherd came too, with another gift, a shawl of softest, whitest lambs wool. She sang for him and he ate some bread, and asked her who the man on the fine black horse had been. She told him that it had been a customer of her father's and he went on his way.
"First thing the next morning, the rich man was back, this time with a veil as fine as mist for her dark hair. He told her when he returned tomorrow, he would take her across the sea to his great manor house and make her his wife. All day she imagined it, the wife of a wealthy man from far away and she would be lady of his grand house and wear silks and pearls and want for nothing.
"She put the veil away when the shepherd came again, but this time he did not come in. He gave her a ring he had carved from white wood, something he said, to remember him by. He would have to work hard and long to have his house ready before winter, he said, and he would not be able to visit as he had, but if she would wear it and think of him, when he returned, he would bring her his mother's old ring and they could be married.
"Her heart was touched by this, and she took the ring and put it on, and he told her goodbye until his work was finished. And she thought that it might be good to be a shepherd's wife, to have a house of gray stone by the water and the soft lambs and the sweet flowers, and a strong, young husband to sing to.
"But the next day, when the rich man came, she was dressed in her necklace, her silk dress, her white shawl, her veil, her carved ring, and had her pet lamp on a cord. She would see his fine house, she told herself, and decide then. He loaded her up in a carriage lined with gold and furs and they began down the road to the sea.
"Three days it took to reach the sea where the rich man's boat was waiting for them. She was bored of riding and singing, but all the sailors saluted him, and the girl felt very grand on his arm as he led her aboard. Her lamb was not so impressed however, and pulled from her grip, leaping the ramp, back to shore.
"Oh!" the girl cried. She would've jumped after to catch her pet, but the rich man told the crew to move on. She begged them to stop, saying she only needed a moment to run and bring her lamb back, but the man refused. She would have silken cats and dogs with jeweled collars, he promised, and tame gazelles and clever monkeys and bright birds from the other side of the earth. She would have no need of a dirty little farm animal and no wife of his was going to run and chase after anything.
"Then, he turned his back on her to order the crew, and the blacksmith's daughter, proud, beautiful, and as willful as a wild ram, turned her back on him and leapt over the side as easily as if it had been the rail fence at home.
She lost her veil in the water, but climbed ashore and ran after the fleeing lamb. She almost had it until a dog barked and sent it running even faster. When she finally caught it, the rich man's ship was far out to sea. He hadn't waited.
"The lamb was still pulling in the direction of home, so she tossed her wet hair back and let it lead her. It took her through the town where a boy grabbed her necklace and broke it, scattering pearls all over the street. The people there scrabbled and fought over them and the girl ran after her lamb to get away from them all. She had no other jewels but her carved ring, but didn't dare lose that too.
"The lamb led her into the woods where the branches and brambles tore her blue silk dress to tatters. When night fell, the wind cut through the thin rags and only her soft woolen shawl kept her from freezing to the bone. Winter was coming, hard and fast on the heels of the red autumn. Her shepherd would be hard at work on his roof to make it warm and dry in his little stone house, and she clutched his three gifts tight to keep off the cold.
"Three days by carriage is many more days on foot and off the road and she was lost and hungry before long. She would have traded every pearl necklace in the world for a bite of bread or some good fried fish. Her feet ached from the walking and from the cold frost and she shivered in her rags, even in sunlight. Still the lamb lead her on until it romped over a hill where there were more sheep.
"Tending them, with his little stone house behind him was her shepherd. He stared at her, with her dress in rags and her hair a black tangle, and she ran to him. He took her inside, though the roof wasn't finished yet, and let her sit by his fire. He gave her his dinner and his old boots to wear and she told him everything; about the rich man, and his useless presents, and the long carriage ride and the long walk back, and how even if the shepherd no longer wanted her for his wife, she had to tell him that his gifts had saved her.
"The shepherd was quiet then, and she wept, thinking she had lost him. He reached for hand and she thought he meant to take back the ring he had made her, but he took her arm and lead her out to a pool by the lake. 'I don't have pearls to give you he said, but I can dress you in diamonds.' And when she looked into the pool, she saw the stars reflected all over her ragged dress and wild hair, clear and bright as diamonds in the dark water.
"He showed her his mother's old ring, a thin braid of copper, polished bright as gold. She wept again, this time for joy, and told him she would marry him as soon as she could brush her hair, whether the house was finished or not. He put the ring on her finger and she kissed him."
"And?" the Dog asked.
"They were married the next day," said the Storyteller. "She tended the sheep while he built the roof and by summer, she had someone new to sing to. They named the child Star and every night it was clear enough, they took her out to the pool to let the diamonds shine around her."
The Dog was silent at that and the Storyteller was finally cold enough to take his seat by the fire. He rubbed his hands and held them out to warm them. The Dog noticed for the first time a small wooden ring on his little finger.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, and the Storyteller smiled.
"It was a gift," he said.