NARRATOR: Once upon a time, there was a very lonely woman. Many years before, when she was wed and happy, all fairies would listen to her song and sway and dance, forgetting, if only for a few moments, to be treacherous and greedy. When her song grew sadder and sadder, and slower and slower, and then grew silent altogether, none of the fairies noticed, so consumed were they by the sparkling jewels and tempting mortal thrones. The woman was barren, unable to have children—her husband had died, and all the men in her village had gone away to war many years ago. She was alone.

(As NARRATOR speaks, MERRIDY should stand CENTER STAGE, with a spotlight on her, if possible, sighing sadly. THREE FAIRIES jump up and dance and laugh when they’re mentioned, and then fall back to the ground.)

MERRIDY: Oh, to have a husband to smile upon each morning again. To have a child call me Mama—to hear anyone but the willows call me my name, Merridy, anyone but the echo in the caves where I collect my mushrooms. Merridy!

FROM OFFSTAGE: (as an echo) Merridy! Merridy!

(MERRIDY crosses STAGE LEFT, sighing sadly)

NARRATOR: The woman’s cries reached the farthest fairy ear, but all feigned deafness—they had their lords and princesses to attend to, their riches to collect and horde and fight over. All but one. Yes, Lecea, infamous for her terrible tricks and conniving, grew a heart at the sounds of Merridy’s sorrowful cries!

(LECEA should enter at ‘All but one,’ and stand CENTER STAGE, looking regal.)

LECEA: (falls to her knees, gasping, clutching her chest) I must know this poor woman’s pain, her fate, how I may soothe her soul.

NARRATOR: Lecea watched Merridy for many days and many nights, paying the closest attention to how she washed dishes after eating mushroom soup, to how many times she tossed and turned, alone in her two-person bed. She counted Merridy’s blinks, collected her sighs, and bottled her tears. And finally, she knew—

(As NARRATOR speaks, LECEA acts as if she’s peering over a windowsill at MERRIDY pantomiming washing a pot, occasionally sighing sadly.)

LECEA: (has revelation) A fairy child, to call her own!

NARRATOR: Lecea came to Merridy as the sun rose. Merridy sighed her morning sigh as she set about a new, lonely day.

(MERRIDY stands CENTER STAGE, sighing, as LECEA crosses over to her, smiling and holding a bundle. MERRIDY falls to her knees, bowing.)

LECEA: I come bearing a gift to stem your loneliness, to bring life back into your once-rosy cheeks, fair Merridy, and to make you sing again!

(LECEA gracefully pulls MERRIDY to her feet.)

NARRATOR: For Lecea had heard Merridy’s beautiful voice years before, and having tasted it, could not wait to savor it in her ears again. Fairies were invisible to mortal eyes, unless they chose to reveal themselves, as Lecea was doing now. Three young, impish fairies were hiding in the trees surrounding Merridy’s cottage, eager to dance to the woman’s happier song.

(THREE FAIRIES peek onstage from the wings, or from behind set walls, giggling and gasping.)

MERRIDY: Great fairy, how do you know my name? You serve royals and riches, not poor girls, alone in the mountains with none to hear but their own echoing voices.

LECEA: (takes MERRIDY’S hand) Indeed, that is how I learned your name—those sad echoes that reverberated off every hilltop to my salt-encrusted castle. You broke through my sea-drowned skull, sweet Merridy, and made me feel again.

MERRIDY: I’m so sorry! (gets down on her knees and bows at LECEA’S feet again) Forgive me, I did not know!

LECEA: (laughs, and motions for MERRIDY to rise again) Do not apologize, you saved me from the corruption that chokes my kin—I will bring them to hear your happy songs, and we will dance and feast.

MERRIDY: (turns away) I’m afraid I don’t sing anymore, great fairy. All the old widows beg me sing a song, but the notes will not find me.

LECEA: My gift! Of course, my gift! I almost forgot, for though you’ve helped me regain my heart and the true nature of my name, fairies will always be flighty and frivolous. Here, a fairy babe, for you to love and hold and call your own! (hands MERRIDY a bundle) (MERRIDY beams)

MERRIDY: My own?

LECEA: All your own. What will you call him?

MERRIDY: Aurum, for he glows in his rich silk blankets like a nearly-set sun, as all fairies do. But his glow is finest, I’d swear by it.

LECEA: I expect to hear echoes of lullabies drift down from the mountain and lull me to sleep in my great castle, young Merridy. And when these songs turn to happy hums of a content woman, and Aurum slowly grows older, I will whisk you both to my great sea castle where your voices will fill every echoing hall and stairway with warmth, love, youth, and joy.

MERRIDY: But great fairy, how will my mortal skin survive? Time passes quickly in ancient fairy halls.

LECEA: I will make you a fairy! All I must do is kiss you on the forehead and don you in fairy silk, and your song will live forever.

MERRIDY: How lovely this all sounds. It’s like a dream.

LECEA: (hands MERRIDY pitcher of water) Here, to wash Aurum’s face, fairy water. You must wash him every night, so his face glows when he returns to his rightful fairy home. But never let it touch your own skin—fairy water was not created for mortal flesh. If you defy me and let it touch you, you will be able to see all of my fairy kin, and the things they do unfit for mortal eyes. I will not try to restrain my wrath if you disobey, though you are weak.

MERRIDY: I will wear the toughest gloves, great fairy. But how will I replenish the water, when it runs out?

LECEA: Dear Merridy! Fairy water never runs out!

NARRATOR: For many years, Merridy lived happily with her son, who grew as fairy children grow, naught but once a decade. Every night, she bathed his face in the fairy water, careful not to let it touch her skin, and Aurum never lost the sparkles that coated his face as a babe. She sang almost constantly—beside her son’s bed, in the forest, in the caves where she collected her food. Fairies heard her lovely tunes and danced around her cottage, unseen by Merridy, playing harmless tricks, as fairies are wont to do.

(As NARRATOR speaks, MERRIDY bathes AURUM in fairy water, wearing gloves, and singing a melody. THREE FAIRIES are unmoving, lying on the ground. Spotlight CENTER STAGE, where MERRIDY is, so it doesn’t call attention to the fairies. Have one of the fairies carry the baby bundle off, and another lead AURUM on.)

Then, one night, when Aurum was sleeping, a middle-aged Merridy inspected her aging skin. She had long forgotten why she wore the gloves when she washed Aurum—all she knew was that the fairy water made his skin beautiful, and she longed for that beauty. (shakes his head) Such a simple thing.

(MERRIDY walks CENTER STAGE and pantomimes gazing in a mirror, touching her face despairingly.)

MERRIDY: Oh, to be young again, when my face glowed fresh and radiant, when my cheeks held blossoms in them and my lips were red. Now, my laughter is etched into my face, even when I frown, and my skin is sickly pale… (spots pitcher of fairy water) Perhaps… (dips her hand in fairy water, and looks at how sparkly it is when she pulls it out) Oh, how beautiful! Now… (splashes it on her face, and screams) My eyes!

NARRATOR: Then, all around, the invisible dancing fairies near her cottage appeared to her, seemingly out of the ground! Though they had played near here before, Merridy never saw their impish folly. Now, with her eyes touched by fairy water, she watched, terrified and awed, as they danced around, doing mischievous things. When they realized Merridy could see them, they spun her around until she fell down and whispered ugly things in her ears. (building in intensity, as the scene does the same) They took still-sleeping Aurum from his bed and held his arms, grinning and leering as they spun him around and around and around and around—

(As NARRATOR speaks, the entire stage lights up, and THREE FAIRIES jump up from where they’re lying. They dance around MERRIDY, twirling her around by her arms and whispering in her ears with impish grins on their faces. Then, as MERRIDY gets over being dizzy, they pull a sleeping AURUM from his bed and spin him around by his arms as well, leering at MERRIDY as they spin. They should spin faster and faster and add ribbons to the spinning, and glitter, as the NARRATOR grows more intense with his speech. When LECEA speaks, the entire scene should freeze, the lights should go out, and the spotlight should appear on LECEA.)

LECEA: STOP!

THREE FAIRIES: Lecea! (they scatter)

LECEA: (sneering) I heard your scream, Merridy. I came quickly, though I wasn’t concerned for your welfare. No, I thought you’d dropped off a cliff or had been eaten by wolves, as happens every day to foolish mortals. Instead, I find my son, about to be cursed—

MERRIDY: (horrified) Cursed!

LECEA: (with all her terrible power) And you! You, just as stupid as mortals before you, able to see fairies! You defied my express wishes, which I graciously outlined to protect you, because you wished to return to your youth, you selfish woman?

MERRIDY: No, it was a mistake, I had no idea—

LECEA: (continues as question) That fairy water is too pure for human skin, as I warned you years and years ago? You’ve forfeited your gift through your stupidity, Merridy.

MERRIDY: No! Aurum needs me!

LECEA: He needs no one. He is a fairy. You needed him, and now I am taking him away. (grabs still-sleeping, but standing, Aurum’s hand) (turns to go, but pauses) And to think, you gave up being a fairy, gave up immortality, to look younger. (laughs without humor)

MERRIDY: I don’t care about being a fairy! Eternity is only worth living alongside my son!

LECEA: (confused) You’d give up beauty, immortality, unimaginable riches, just to be with your fairy son as a withering old maid?

MERRIDY: (nods fervently)

LECEA: You, a mortal? This is unheard of. I must reconsider your punishment…

MERRIDY: And I will stand here, till I am ancient with age and rooted to the ground beneath my feet, to prove to you my son is so much more to me than power, riches, or even life.

NARRATOR: When Lecea had finally made her judgment, had awoken from her pensive stupor, almost fifty years had passed. Merridy was on her deathbed, an old, withered woman, and Aurum was a young man.

(As NARRATOR speaks, THREE FAIRIES should dance around the dark stage. The spotlight should be on LECEA as she considers. Two of the THREE FAIRIES should shield Merridy from view as the other fairy hands MERRIDY a gray wig and cane. She bends over and acts old. Then, the stage clears of THREE FAIRIES and the lights come on for the whole stage.)

LECEA: I have thought long and hard, and have decided your sacrifice—a whole mortal life, spent waiting for Judgment Day just to be with your fairy son—is enough to condone the kindness I’m about to bestow, despite the crime you committed many years ago. Lean forward, sweet Merridy. (LECEA kisses MERRIDY’S forehead, and a now-awake AURUM, smiling, puts a colorful robe on her.) Now all we need, Merridy, is your will. You must want it.

AURUM: Quickly, Mama. This is all you’ve lived for, these few moments. Accept so that we can truly live our new lives, both of us fairies, forever!

MERRIDY: (to LECEA) I have lived fully, these long years, staring at my beautiful, sleeping son (takes AURUM’S hand), and waiting for a deserved punishment that never came. You are merciful, great fairy, and kind, but I’m afraid I must decline. I have grown weary, and my bones ache—I believe, now, I will sleep. (tenderly reaches for AURUM) Come, my son. Help me inside.

AURUM: But what of fairy halls? Of eternity? Of singing and laughing far beyond forever…is that future lost for us, Mama?

MERRIDY: For me, Sweet Aurum, not you. Only your glowing face was meant to last forever. I am but a mortal, with one life to live, and I have lived it. All I ever wanted out of life was a child, and I have loved you enough for seven lifetimes. Wear my everlasting song proudly on your own precious lips throughout ages to come, and live happily, for me.

(MERRIDY and AURUM cross slowly to the other side of the stage as they speak and finally EXIT. LECEA stares sadly on. The stage goes black, spotlight on NARRATOR CENTER STAGE.)

NARRATOR: And though no songs ever echoed through sweet Merridy’s lips in the great sea castle halls, songs are still sung today, in the salt-encrusted gloom, tasting of her mortal sacrifice that the oldest fairies still proclaim was the greatest one of all.