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Rated: 13+ · Other · Children's · #2006006
Something simple.
         One day, a long time ago, a young prince sat on the sill of his window and watched the stars move silently across the sky as he reflected upon his unfair, and quite frankly unhappy life. The young prince did not like this predicament he was in, he did not want to be a prince. He did not want to rule over a kingdom. If only he were the youngest of his father’s two sons.

         “One day, my boy, you will rule this land. Each and every being will know your name and bow at your feet, and you in return will give them the best life you can provide. You will marry a beautiful princess with the voice of a fairy, and your brother will be your right hand man, to sit by you and thoroughly criticise your decisions for the best.”

         Only, the young prince did not want this. He did not want to rule over this land. He did not want to be heir to the throne. But his brother, younger by only a year, wanted the throne. He wanted to be king, he wanted to marry a beautiful princess and give his people a brilliant life.

         What the young prince wanted was none of this. He wanted to live in a small house on a hill that sat next to a stream, where he could live with a beautiful young servant girl who he had had the pleasure of seeing every day over the past months. The young maiden had stolen his heart, and he hers, too. He wanted to have a small house with her, one that overlooked meadows of long grass and flowers, with a golden haired hound that would run amongst the fragrant colours.

         Could he do that? Could he really run away with a servant girl to a house upon a hill? Perhaps he would build it, and live in a cottage as he worked. He would take the riches he had saved over the years to get supplies. It would provide them for a lifetime and more. So the prince decided that this is exactly what he would do.

         The young prince used the next week or so to collect all that he needed, horses and food and the riches he needed. He told his beloved maiden to meet him at the gates at midnight, and they would elope to the beautiful country that sat only days to the east. She agreed with much enthusiasm, it made the young prince grin.

         So they set off to a cottage, a whole three days and three nights to the east, where the young prince found a temporary house on the outskirts of the cottage. They settled in the small home, where the young maiden and the young prince lived happily day and night. The young prince took eight hours a day for six months to build his dream home on a perfect little hill only an hour from the cottage that sat right next to a running, clear stream and overlooked map of meadows, beds of flowers beginning to bloom.

         “This is the perfect time to move my maiden in,” the young prince laughed, looking at his accomplished and completed home. It stood tall and wide, rose bushes planted on each side of the porch stairs. He had even put a pair of rocking chairs next to each other, ones he made himself, on the porch.

         Returning to the old, boring and somewhat empty temporary home, he found his young maiden in the kitchen cooking a lovely smelling stew, wearing a long blue dress she sewed herself. A stained white apron was tied around her bodice, their initials sewn into the fabric inside a wonky heart. The young prince kissed her cheek and turned her around, taking the delicate hands of his young maiden with a smile.

         “Young maiden, how I love you so. Become my mistress and I will show you only love and a beautiful life. We shall live in a house that sits on a hill next to a stream, where we can sit on a porch and watch the flowers blossom in the spring and buy a golden hound to raise. We can birth young children, both boys and girls alike. And we will raise them to be kind and happy, if only you say yes.”

         The young maiden let her happy tears fall down her cheeks, wrapping the young prince in a hug with an agreement that made his heart soar. The next morning they went to the cottage church, asking to be wedded immediately. As the two became one, the young prince had their portrait painted on a fine canvas to send to his father and brother, a letter written of pure happiness to be sent along with it.

         As the young prince and his fine mistress walked back to their house, on the side of the road was conveniently a box of small golden haired hounds. The young mistress asked to have the smallest, the one that the seller said was sure to die. But the young prince wanted only happiness for his mistress, buying the smallest of them. She would care for the young golden haired hound and raise it to be a healthy adult.

         The young mistress loved their home, and the young prince loved his mistress. He loved watching her fly around the house with the grace of a dancer. He loved to see her singing in the mornings and knitting on the porch at night. The young prince grew vegetables and fruit trees, and bought chickens and goats.

         The young prince and his young mistress lived a happy life together on their small home on a hill that sat next to a stream. They had three young boys and two young girls, and managed to make money with the extra milk and eggs they had. The family often visited the king, who accepted his brother’s decision of living on a house on a hill. And the king often visited his brother in his house on a hill for holidays.

         The young prince and his young mistress passed away together in a peaceful sleep, in their bedroom that overlooked the map of meadows of colourful flowers and vibrant green grass. Their house stood for centuries and was rebuilt many times, their tale told with each generation of the young prince’s bloodline.

         As a father sat on a wooden rocking chair by a fireplace, retelling the story for the hundredth time to his two sons and daughter, he looked out the window of the small house, to happily see his large three acre garden, knowing that once, a long time ago, a young prince and his young mistress ran merrily across that very ground.
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