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How should I go about this...what I am about to write? To put it simply, this is a retelling of "Sleeping Beauty", which has got to be my favorite Grimm story next to Snow White. The real versions of the Grimm's fairy tales are very grimacing and almost dark. So, I think I will barrow that feel from the original tales. Now, I am advising whoever reads this story, take caution, because it does have refences to the Lolita Complex, ok? Right _;
Once apon a time..
In mid winter, 1463, the edge of what is now Austria, a small farmer, his wife, and his little daughter, along with six other travelers were moving into King Matthias Conrvinus' territory. Although there was sparatic groups of saxon travelers, they were never allowed into Hungary itself. But that's why the saxons broke off in small groups. The farmer was a pudgy, short man. His clothes were tattered and dirty and his wife was different...She had blue eyes, fair skin, and dark red hair. Her daughter was the spitting image of her...but she was not yet six.
Unbeknownst to the Hungarians, there were aslo spies in small villages and the mose well known part of Budapest. The Ottoman Turks who just recently, put the puppet Radu the Handsome on the Wallachian throne. Therefore, they gained easy access threw Wallachia to Hungary. They were planning a genocide of the Hungarian people, to intice King Matthias. Their attack would take place into the village where the saxons were headed. There some would meet their fate along with six other Turks.
The farmer settled in a small house along with six other saxons. They met their destination without no fail. It was a small, damp house, with a small fire place. Four married couples without no children besides the farmer and his wife, all keeping each other warm in the damp winter night. Everyone, the farmer holding his small daughter, the couples huddled around the small den fire in the fireplace. The roof spranged a couple of leaks of water from the snow decending on the straw roof, no one complained. However, a small hush fell over threw the dimly lit house as the soft smell of the damp wood chard in the fire. The farmer's wife had not yet returned. The little daughter carefully placed her small hands on her father's arms. In her little mind, she didn't knew much about the silence. The farmer expressed deep worry for his wife.
Since mid afternoon, she had vanished without a trace. And his mind was not at ease since there were a number of strange men wandering threw the village. "Maybe we should look for her..." The farmer finally spoke. The eldest man in the small house turned from him from across. The firey light reflected his eyes filled with sympathy. "No, she will return. We don't know where to look either." He pointed out. There were soft murmurs of agreement. The farmer sat there, with the small daughter in his lap. The evening was getting heaver with fatigue as they stated near the fire. The farmer comptimplated about putting his daughter to sleep.
The elder man sighed as he sat back down. The farmer stared at the fire as his mind drifted off into another mindless gaze as the night grew darker and darker. His daughter remaned perfectly still in his arms. Ther farmer's worry grew more intense where he was constantly looking outside the doorway expecting to see her face, rosy from the cold, smiling at him at the point of her return. He smiled painfully at the thought of her being further away from her daughter.
How she loved this little girl. Their daughter was perfect. Obiedent and always pleasent to be around. They never had to raise a hand nor a voice to punish her diosbeidance. It was too good to be true. But, yes, she sat there with her father gazing at the doorway.
"Daddy, mama will be back," she smiled up at him with her little round face with a comforting smile. "Mama loves you."
"She loves you too," He stroked her soft hair and pulled it back gently and neatly. He opened his mouth to say something to his daugther, but she sank back into his chest and fell asleep. Seems like a good idea too for him.
The fire grew dim slowly as the darkness grew stronger and the night sank into the cold winter air. The farmer tried to keep his eyes open but could not manage. He wanted to see her...running through the doorway...but..
Darkness fell opon the small community. Not a single fire was lit. Not a single horse was astray. Everyone in the small house was huddled up in a small house, expect the farmer and the little girl. The town slept...so innocently. It seemed too bitter before what has been layed before them. There, from the distant paths and thick forestry, the Turk soliders gathered silently. They came in two different formations that were proceeding in the the thicket. Armed with their best weapons, praise for Allah tucked deep within their armor. The forest was lit of what little moonlight and the vairous formations of what appeared to be torches. There was no Hungarian soliders lenguring about, so it was no worry for them. Their captain, however...was a very brute man, apoun a brown horse. His mind was set on revenge towards the Hungarian king that was holding another man of much more importance to the Turks.The force crept down the hills out of the thicket, into the small village, like the final plague that Moses had brought to free his people. Their forces finally arrived together as a group, They looked to their commander for that signal...
With a soft, deathly smile, he flicked his finger. There apoun this flick, the Turkish forces entered the small houses, slaughtering all they could. They made their way into merchants' houses, immeditally destroying any form of weaponry and the mercahants and their families. The small village awoke to the emsence chaos and the echoes of screaming. The villagers scrambled out of their houses, followed by Turks on horse back. While it seemed many of the villagers awoke and were now trying to escape, none of them seemingly wre managing to escape from the slaughter. The farmer blinked to the distant screaming outside.
His eyes fultered in a half daze of sleep and confusion. When he realized what was happening, he sprang up from his position with his daugther in his arms.
"Wake up, everyone!" His voice was shaken from fear. The small group muttered then the muttering grew into panic voices after realizing the sitiuation around them.
"What's going on?!" The man from the corner asked in the dark.
"Their attacking us! Their attacking us!" The woman bursted into tears in front of the farmer.
"We have to escape! NOW!" Shouted the farmer, darting out the doorway with his daughter clinging the masses of dirty clothing. The farmer was well ahead of the other four couples as he made it toward the small path, but the houses were burned. His fears were finally excalating. There was no way out from the masses of forces, coming towards the village from the hills. The dawn was long from due from now and his wife was gone from here. Oh, how glad he was she wasn't here.
From the distance, he could hear the beating of mighty hoves...
"NO! Don't hurt my daughter!" His arms grew tighter around the small, slient child. Above him was the commander of the Turkish forces. An errire calmness surrounded the two of them as if the whole conflict paused around them. His musty brown eyes looked down on him. Then a smile appeared on his face."Oh, your wife mentioned you..." His voice trailed off into a deadly gazed as his eyes met the little girl's blue eyes. "Such a pity." He threw his club against the farmers head, dropping the little girl.
"Run, my dearest!" He said on the ground. His daughter took off in a small patter of running, and disapeared among the chaos. He turned up to look at the commander. From there the commander beated him, bludged him...untill the mass of his remaining worries were drone out...
He died worrying about his greatest pride...his daughter and wife.
Meanwhile, the little girl positioned herself under an empty crate and watched the last scramble of villagers that were excaping the Turks. Her little hands placed them on her knees. She waited for her father paitently. "Mommy will come for me," she muttered under the crate. A woman fell before her and she hid herself deeper under the crate. After the woman fell, she coughed blood before she took her last breath and faded away. A breif silence fell over...Something was coming. She cringed and whimpered. More of them were grouping... coming to take her away from her mother. How she wanted her mother. Her vision blured as tears gathered in her blue eyes silently. She burried her round face in her small dress and placed her hands over her head "Mommy, find me! Papa, where are you?" She coughed from the smoke gathering.She stayed untill her mother and father would come.
There were more forces gathering to the village. But not Turks. Matthias finally came to his people's aid. Armed with bitter hatred and his fellow nobles and a small army, he trudged onward to aid the last of the citizens. Along with him, boyars and and knights who swore legance to Mattihas also came to aid him. They waited his command paitently awaited his command. Next to Matthias, a tall man, very pale and with curly unkempt black hair looked down with his tired green eyes. Matthias' curly blonde hair tangled in the wind and he brushed his face."Now we may proceed gentlemen. Take any Turks or Saxons for improsionment," He causually said. The time grew more important and he turned to the tall black haired man. "For this, Vlad, I give you any aproval for any means necessary for disposle..." He trailed off as he headed downward, calmly. Vlad was the last to decend. He causually took his right hand and swept it threw his short black hair. He charged forward, passing threw the small village.
Meanwhile, thirty minutes within the charge, the little girl was now stricken with fear as the seige went about the village. She held her breath as a group of horse feet approached her, but an omnipresent force on horseback struck them down quickly. The echoes and sounds of carange echoed threw the now growing silent village. She fluttered her little eyes and gazed before her. There layed before her the blood mixed with the Turks and the villagers. It suddenly grew silent and only distant talking could be heard in the opening of dawn.
Matthias lowered himself from his horse to look around for any Saxons that had wondered their way threw Hungray. He didn't much care for them and it only made matters worse they actracted more forgein immigrants for him that caused too much trouble. He walked quietly threw the village and into the chared homes that once housed these town folk. There seem to be little or no sign of movement or any form of noise. All there before him layed dead people that once lived quietly amongst the town. Now their bodies captured their last minutes of terror and the blood of carange. His eyes turned slowly around into each house as he scanned it quietly like a hawk for a mouse. But no one came forward...or perhaps they were too terrified. The smell of blood and smoke slowly was getting to him and the cold air bothered him. He swiftly turned around and saw Vlad. "Well, now what? Apparently no one here is alive," He threw is hand out in the open in anger. "Your not pretty useful then," Matthias spat. "Your the one who can smell fresh blood." He noted to him. "And there is none out here," Vlad finally said. Matthias shoke his head and muttered as he walked away. Vlad however, was now intested in something else. He slowly walked over to a small crate that laid against a mud house. His eyes focused on a white texture that was out of place from the brick wall. He walked slowly up to it sliently. He paused before it. Vlad jerked off the crate violently and threw it aside. There he found the little girl with her blue eyes gazing up into his own.
He drew his sword and gripped the ending of it so bitterly. But the little girl still looked at him. Her look was almost haunting... she never bugded nor blinked. Vlad tried to ignore it. Her forehead was freshly cut with an odd scar in a shape of a rose. His sword shook with his anger and temptation. He placed it back into his holster.
How could he kill something he desired?
Her innocence. Her fresh blood tempted his smell. But she was so young and niave. But his view was far from pity...He wanted her. And how
he loved her little body. Slowly, he lowered himself to her level, as if contimplating what to do now since he had failed to kill a Saxon due
to his own desires of young flesh. He contimplated on what to do now. Vlad said nothing as he picked up the small child and stood up. What was
he doing? Him, the famous warlord who showed no mercy was rendered weak by a small little girl. He placed her against his chest in a reassuring
way as he inhaled her sweet sense. The little girl said nothing nor glanced up at him but grasped his clothing in tight little bundles. Vlad
inhaled sharply then walked away from the scene where he found her. Oh, he would never hear the end of this one, expecially since he now took
in a small child...
"What are you doing?" Matthias' face turned white when he saw Vlad remove his outter black cape and wrapped it around the child.
"I wont kill someone this young," He simply said. Yes, it was hypocritical, expecially for him...but he couldn't kill her.
"This is ludircous!" Mattthias shouted at him while he was holding the little girl. "What are you going to do with her?!"
"What do you think?" He asked simply. "I'm taking her with me."
"We already have six Saxons and six Turks," He waved a finger at Vlad as he remained an errire calm. "She is the one we were looking for."
Vlad walked away from Matthias without saying a word. Matthias wheeled around and then glared at him as he mounted his horse with the small child still clinging in his arms.
"To loose your parents at a young age is horrible," He stated simply to Matthias. "I know that better than anyone and I can't see someone so young taken away and imprisoned. Regardless of my sudden sympathy."
Matthias mounted his horse bitterly and didn't look at both Vlad and the child as he rode off with the boyars and the knights. As they truded up the hill with the sunlight dawning across the ruin village. He finally left as well, still carrying her deep in his arms with comfort. Vlad knew he would deeply regret his descision to battle his cravings...but more importantly. His wife, Ilona.
