Author's Note: Yes, I did have this up here before, but it has been rewritten several times since then. This is my latest version. Please tell me what you think!

Daughter of the Faeries

Little Anne and the Rose

A story, ma soeur? Is that what you want? A tale of Love and Friendship, of Sorrow and Pain? Of all that is Strange and Wonderful? Yes, I know such a tale. It is the story of Little Anne and the Rose.

Anne lived in a tiny cottage on the very edge of the kingdom. The cottage, though small, was very cozy. Not comfortable, ma soeur, (for it was cold and icy in winter and as hot as an oven in summer) but cozy. When Anne was born the cottage was always full of laughter and joy. Anne’s parents, grandparents, and older brothers and sisters all lived there, crammed merrily together in the tiny cottage.

Anne was the youngest in her family and was also the quietest. She spent most of her time in the garden tending the flowers and fruit trees and becoming friends with the nymphs and spirits who inhabited them. They taught her many things, and soon she had acquired a vast amount of knowledge.

But over the years things changed at the cottage. Scarlet fever came to the town, and Anne’s grandparents, parents, and brothers and sisters all died. Anne was given the choice of either leaving the cottage forever to live in another kingdom with relatives she had never met, in a place she had never visited, or staying in the cottage. Understandably, she chose to stay in the cottage. And so, ma soeur, Anne was left all alone.

As time went on, she spent more and more time in her garden with her nymph and spirit friends. Nymphs and spirits occupy all of nature, from trees and flowers to rivers and rocks. They are magical creatures, but their magic mainly pertains to flowers or whatever it is they inhabit. Nymphs and spirits usually do not show themselves to very many creatures. Anne just happened to be one of the few that ever became their friend.

There was one nymph in particular, the White Rose Nymph, who was a close friend of Anne’s. She was playful and sweet, very like Anne herself. They spent many hours in the garden together and always enjoyed themselves greatly.

The White Rose Nymph was worried about Anne because Anne’s only source of food and income was her garden and in the winter the snow prevented most of the fruits and flowers from growing. She also knew that though Anne was always busy and appeared happy, she missed having people around to talk to and was very lonely, even more so than you, ma soeur.

On one bright summer day, Anne was in her garden tending to her flowers and playing with the nymphs. A boy, who looked just a little older than Anne, came up to Anne’s door, the longing for adventure evident in his eyes.

“Come around to the garden, my little friend.” She called to him. The boy was clearly affronted at being called little, especially since he was at least a head taller than the girl who addressed him.

“My name,” he said proudly, “is John, and I am not little.” Anne’s laughter rang through the garden like little tinkling bells. John turned red and the face and seemed ready to leave, but Anne stopped him.

“I believe we are all little, in the big scheme of things.” She told him. “If you ever look up into the night sky you will see many, many stars that seem no bigger than a speck of dust, but in reality, many of the stars are much bigger than our planet. Compared to those stars, we are tiny.” John looked at the petite girl with wonder. It struck him that she was acting very smart for her age. He began to grow suspicious.

“You are very young,” he mused, though he was not even a year older than her, “how can you know such things?”

“Why,” Anne said smiling, “The nymphs and spirits tell me, of course.” The nymphs and spirits, which John had not noticed before, all laughed and chattered at his amazement.

“You are very different, LITTLE girl. What is your name?” John asked her.

“Anne.” She replied.

“Well,” John continued, “It is nice to meet you Little Anne.”

“And it is very nice to meet you too, Little John.” Anne said smiling.

The two became fast friends and Little John was soon visiting her every day. He never seemed to notice how cold his little friend was in the winter, and how hot in the summer, or even that her garden was her only way to get food. Little John, ma soeur, was completely oblivious to all of this.

Years elapsed and Little Anne still stayed in her cottage with her nymphs and spirits. The more time that Little Anne spent with Little John, the more she grew to love him. He was always very kind to her, and he helped to fill her lonely hours with joy. He was always prepared to entertain her with new story and sometimes he even had a loaf of bread for her. Yes, ma soeur, those were good times.

Time went on and the friends grew older. Little John came to the cottage less and less. He never gave Little Anne a reason for his absence and she never asked for one, not that she didn’t notice. Every day that he didn’t come she felt alone and unwanted. On these days, it was all that her spirit friends could do to keep her happy.

When Little John didn’t come for a whole month, Little Anne became very disheartened. The White Rose Nymph was even more worried about her than usual.

“Don’t be sad without your little friend.” She begged, “I remember before he came, you played in the garden with me and forgot that you were all alone.” This didn’t comfort Little Anne much, ma soeur. Without Little John there to distract her and cheer her up, she began to notice all of the bad things about her cottage, such as the bitter cold.

A year passed in which Little John visited Little Anne only a few times. Anne busied herself with her garden, attempting to forget him, but it seemed that he would only show up just as she had managed to put him out of her thoughts.

Winter came again and it snowed heavily. Anne’s garden was covered in a blanket of white, and all of the nymphs had closed their flowers for the winter, except the White Rose Nymph who had convinced Little Anne to put her in a flower pot inside.

With the garden covered in snow and unable to produce food, Little Anne had nothing to eat. The little amount of money she had was only able to buy a small amount of food, but it was not enough.

In a desperate attempt to keep her friend happy, the White Rose Nymph suggested a trip to town. There was a festival going on, and since there was nothing else to do, Little Anne decided to go.

Now the White Rose Nymph, ma soeur, having convinced her friend to go to the festival, stayed in her flower pot thinking of what was going to happen to Little Anne. A bird, no bigger than one of her own white roses, flew inside and fell onto the floor. The bird had a broken wing, and the nymph, who had healing powers, mended it. But the arrival of the wounded bird had disturbed her. A hurt animal was the sign of death.

The festival was gigantic. The whole town had worked together to decorate the main square with balloons and streamers. Music played in every corner of every house, creating a very cheerful atmosphere. There were unicorn rides, fortune tellers, jugglers, magicians of every kind, and many more wonderful things. Little Anne even saw one person with a genie in a magic lamp. People all around were laughing and enjoying themselves. It wasn’t often that things this big happened.

Little Anne, however, couldn’t enjoy herself. Everyone was eating candy and stuffing themselves with the delicious foods that venders were selling. Little Anne hadn’t eaten for quite a while now and had no money to buy anything the townspeople had to offer.

After walking around for a bit, Little Anne stopped near a big stage where people were starting to gather. Trumpets began blowing and the crowd started cheering. She saw the king and queen step upon the stage followed by their three children, all in line from youngest to oldest. Little Anne looked at them all with interest; she had never seen the royal family before.

The first and youngest daughter was as pale as the moon. She had long, blonde hair that floated behind her and piercing light blue eyes. The second child, a son, was very handsome. He had curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. Then Little Anne looked at the third and oldest child—another son. He wasn’t as handsome as his siblings. He had ragged black hair, dancing green eyes, and a huge grin on his face. He reminded her of Little John. She blinked a few times and squinted. Her eyesight was getting very blurry. However, she could still see that it was definitely Little John.

She felt her stomach turn summersaults inside of her and her knees felt weak. She started making her way out of the crowd, but never made it. When she was not 10 feet from the edge of the crowd her knees buckled beneath her and Little Anne collapsed on the dirt of the village square.

Little John didn’t realize just how much he missed Little Anne until he saw her that day. His father, the king, had found out about his daily trips into the village and immediately put an end to it. Still, Little John managed to get to the cottage every once and a while.

It had never occurred to him what would happen if Little Anne found out that he was a prince. All that being a prince meant to him was being forced to stay inside and learn manners when he could be outside playing and enjoying the freedom of being able to do whatever he wanted. Why should it matter to other people if it didn’t matter to him?

He had also never thought about how poor Little Anne was. He enjoyed playing with her and then going home for a big supper. He never thought about what she did after he left. Why should he? But when she collapsed in the square it all came rushing at him and he was frightened. He was not only frightened at the thought of losing her forever, but frightened of the feeling of guilt that rushed upon him, telling him that he was to blame for Little Anne’s condition.

Little John jumped off the stage and ran through the crowd towards Little Anne. He was at her side in a matter of seconds and cradled her in his arms, but something inside of him told him that she was dying.

Now the king and queen were alarmed when they saw their son jump off the platform, and thought that when he went to the peasant girl it was out only out of pity. And when he ordered that she be brought to the palace they agreed, thinking of how sweet and kindhearted their son was to help a dying girl who he had never met.

So Little Anne was brought to the palace where she was looked at by the best healers in the country. They all said exactly the same thing—Little Anne did not have very long.

Little Anne was very calm about all this. She knew, it seems, that she was ill long before she even met Little John. Little John, on the other hand, was no where near being as calm as his friend.

“What do you want, Little Anne?” he would constantly ask her, “Could I get you anything? Is there anything that you have always wanted? I will get it for you!” Her answer was always the same—no. Then, when Little John asked her for what must have been the thousandth time her answer changed.

“There is one thing.” She confessed, and Little John, who loved her very much, told her that he would get her anything. “I would like you to go to my garden and pick me a flower. I would like very much to have one of my flowers with me now.”

So Little John hurried off to the garden he had played in so often. When he arrived he found that all of the nymphs had closed their flowers against the snow. He went into the house, unsure of what to do next. There he found the White Rose Nymph.

“Little Anne…” he told her, his voice trailing off. The nymph guessed what was happening and let him pick one of her flowers. Then she flew up to the petals and sat atop one.

“I am coming with you.” She declared, and then they were off.

When they arrived at the palace, Little Anne was sleeping. Little John placed the flower on her bed sheets and the tiny nymph climbed out of the shelter of her petals, waking Little Anne.

Little Anne picked up the flower and held it in her small hands. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered. She brought the rose up to her face to smell it, sighing peacefully. As she did so the White Rose Nymph placed a hand over her friends’ heart. The air around them immediately shone bright red. Little John was too shocked to do anything, ma soeur, and so he just watched in amazement.

Little Anne and the White Rose Nymph both rose a few feet into the air, still surrounded by the glowing red light. Suddenly, the light was extinguished and Little Anne and the White Rose Nymph landed gently on the bed. The nymph had healed Little Anne, just like she had healed the wounded bird. However, nymphs are not use to healing humans, and the White Rose Nymph had used all of her power and magic. She fell limply back onto her flower. The flower, normally snow white in color, was stained blood red.

The nymph, ma soeur, had sacrificed her own life to save her friend’s. This act of kindness and selflessness proves how great their friendship was.

The plant which the rose had come from instantly turned the same blood red as the rose on Little Anne’s bed. Little Anne herself was completely healed. She grieved at the loss of her friend for a long time, and knew she would never forget her. Little John was so grateful to the nymph that he grieved just as much as his friend and insisted that a blood red rose should be the country’s new emblem.

Little John, who later became King John, and Little Anne, who became Queen Anne, lived in harmony for the rest of their days. They always remembered the one to whom they owed their happiness, and if you go to their kingdom you will still see the great festival held annually in honor of the White Rose Nymph.