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Eloquent image provided by Mistress--Phoenix( mistress--phoenix.deviantart.c…)

The Bride With The Ten Rings
Retold by M. Hadley

Once upon a time, on the outskirts of a quaint little town surrounded by a thick wood, lived a beautiful maiden with skin as dark and velvety as chocolate and long silvery hair so lustrous that it glowed without need for light to shine on it. Her modest homestead at the border of the town was by no means an indication of her social standing with its people; on the contrary, she was considered the very heart of the settlement, playing the role of dutiful daughter, big sister, doting aunt and guardian for those without. Whenever the townspeople needed it, she was always there with a helpful hand and no complaint.

However, while she had crossed the threshold of marrying age, she was without a husband. Of course, her romantic pursuers were legion, many arriving from kingdoms both far and near. But alas, although she meant no harm, she did not find them to be worthy of her…or rather, she did not think herself to be worthy of such attention. In fact, she was quite comfortable in her life of simplicity and solitude, which was poor in material possessions but rich in spirit and mental comforts.

One day, however, things began to change for the marvelous lass. An old crone wandered into her town and entered her hut just as the maiden was finishing her sewing for the day. After asking for and receiving a cup of warm milk, the crone told the girl, “Ah yes…you are quite splendid. You will make the perfect bride for my boy!”

“Bride, Granny?” the maiden was puzzled.

The crone cackled, slapping her knee in amusement. “Don’t you worry your pretty head, my child! You will meet him soon! He has been smitten with you for quite a while!”

And before the lass could ask what she meant, the old crone had vanished in a twinkling.

A fortnight passed before disaster, like Zeus’s fiery thunderbolt, struck. A pack of terrifying trolls descended on the town, conquering it swiftly. The young maiden, like the rest of the townspeople, was enslaved and made to serve her new masters night and day. But as luck would have it, at the stroke of midnight on the third day, she was able to slip into the woods beyond her town and escape. However, her flight did not go unnoticed, and in the blink of an eye, a contingent of troll guards doggedly pursued her.

Unfortunately, the silver-tressed lass was not able to watch where her path was taking her. She accidently ran into a tree and swooned from the blow.

When she awoken, she found herself in a gilded grand hall, at the head of a bountiful banquet table. Opposite her was a very handsome lad, dressed in wondrous splendor, who cradled his chin in his fingers while watching her longingly.

“Hello, my dear.” He cooed. “Apologies for meeting in such a manner.”

“Who are you?” the maiden asked, looking down at her clothes. Gone was her simple country garb. Instead, a bizarre but splendid silver breastplate and short silver loincloth was their replacements. Her feet were bare as well.

He arose from his seat and bowed. “Before I can make the proper introduction, you must understand one thing…you are very familiar with me. Intimately.”

The young woman shook her head slowly. “No, my lord…you have never crossed my path in this lifetime.”

The regally-clad man walked around the table and stood over the woman. “I’ve always been in your life, my lady. You greet me every day. You walk with me, you talk with me, you assist me…”

The lass shook her head again. “No, this cannot be…for I only help the people in the town I have lived in all of my life.”
“Lo!” the man smiled. “When you help the people…you help me…you help the land!”

“I beg you pardon?” the maiden could not believe her ears.

“I am our land and its people…” the man kneeled before her on one knee. “Mother Nature was the old crone that visited you, and she is from where I was born.”

“You…are the physical manifestation…the spirit of the land?” the maiden was astonished.

The youth nodded solemnly. “And I want you to become my bride…if you will be willing to have me as your groom.”

The young woman was struck speechless for spell, causing the man to continue to fill the void with another explanation. “The armor you now wear is your wedding dress. Again, apologies…as I did not mean to take liberty with your…form.”

“Yes.” The maiden spoke at last. “You can be my groom!”

“Alas!” the man cried. “You have made me quite the happy god! Now for the final part of the ceremony…the wedding rings.”

“Rings?” the maiden was confused.

“Yes, rings.” The youth replied, holding up his right palm. A small pillow manifested out of thin air, with a set of ten diamond rings resting on it. Although bewildered by the strange twist on the custom, the maiden offered her left hand. But the man firmly rejected it.

“Your feet. These ten rings are for your toes.” He told her. Surprised but elated about her new pending status, the maiden offered both feet, realizing quickly why they were left bare in the first place.

“I, the Spirit of The Land, take you to be my wife…to have and to cherish, to empower and protect until your soul grows weary.” He recited as he gently placed a glistening diamond ring on each toe.

“And I take you as my husband…to be your devoted bride and protector of your body – the land and its people – until my immortal soul grows exhausted.” She whispered as the last ring slid into place on her pinky toe.

“Then…by the will of Mother Nature, we are husband and wife.” The man smiled and pulled the maiden into a long kiss.

“So…why are the rings tingling?” the maiden asked after they had pulled away.

“The enchantments are hard at work, my beloved.” The man grinned. “You will not need for shoes, as your feet, as well as your body, will not get cold or hurt. You will find that your strength and speed is that of many men, and your senses will be more attuned than any animal. You will tire less, as your vigor will be inexhaustible. Also, your already sharp mind will now have knowledge of a great many warrior arts.”

“All of this…in service to my husband?” the Bride asked.

“No…we serve each other.” He replied. “The enchantments link to me in service of you. Just by walking, your feet will always touch me, the land. Just by protecting the people, you protect me.”

The Bride smiled, giving her otherworldly husband one last kiss. “I think I should make haste to the village then.”

“This is not goodbye, my bride.” The man waved his hand, generating a brilliant flash of light. “For I am always there.”

When the Bride awoke once again, she found herself returned to the woods surrounding her town and the ground littered with the dead bodies of her troll pursuers. Now clad in her strange “wedding dress” and wedding toe rings, and armed with an adorned but deadly sword, the Bride raced to her home with strange new speed that outstripped her land’s fastest animals.

When she arrived, she quickly laid waste to the horde, who was no match for her now deadly fighting skills. After freeing her beloved village, the Bride with the Ten Rings, as she became famously known as, soon left and traveled the land battling the forces of evil. Although she never aged after her wedding day, after many moons of fighting evil she grew tired and wanted to move on to another plane of existence with her husband.

Her husband reluctantly granted her wish, though he added a wrinkle – a “piece” of the Bride would be always reincarnated to fight to protect the land and its people – her husband. Thus, from that day forth, from the mysterious mists of time, a bride with ten wedding rings on her toes always appeared to vanquish the evil of the land.

THE END

Description
Eloquent image provided by Mistress--Phoenix( mistress--phoenix.deviantart.c…)

The Bride With The Ten Rings
Retold by M. Hadley

Once upon a time, on the outskirts of a quaint little town surrounded by a thick wood, lived a beautiful maiden with skin as dark and velvety as chocolate and long silvery hair so lustrous that it glowed without need for light to shine on it. Her modest homestead at the border of the town was by no means an indication of her social standing with its people; on the contrary, she was considered the very heart of the settlement, playing the role of dutiful daughter, big sister, doting aunt and guardian for those without. Whenever the townspeople needed it, she was always there with a helpful hand and no complaint.

However, while she had crossed the threshold of marrying age, she was without a husband. Of course, her romantic pursuers were legion, many arriving from kingdoms both far and near. But alas, although she meant no harm, she did not find them to be worthy of her…or rather, she did not think herself to be worthy of such attention. In fact, she was quite comfortable in her life of simplicity and solitude, which was poor in material possessions but rich in spirit and mental comforts.

One day, however, things began to change for the marvelous lass. An old crone wandered into her town and entered her hut just as the maiden was finishing her sewing for the day. After asking for and receiving a cup of warm milk, the crone told the girl, “Ah yes…you are quite splendid. You will make the perfect bride for my boy!”

“Bride, Granny?” the maiden was puzzled.

The crone cackled, slapping her knee in amusement. “Don’t you worry your pretty head, my child! You will meet him soon! He has been smitten with you for quite a while!”

And before the lass could ask what she meant, the old crone had vanished in a twinkling.

A fortnight passed before disaster, like Zeus’s fiery thunderbolt, struck. A pack of terrifying trolls descended on the town, conquering it swiftly. The young maiden, like the rest of the townspeople, was enslaved and made to serve her new masters night and day. But as luck would have it, at the stroke of midnight on the third day, she was able to slip into the woods beyond her town and escape. However, her flight did not go unnoticed, and in the blink of an eye, a contingent of troll guards doggedly pursued her.

Unfortunately, the silver-tressed lass was not able to watch where her path was taking her. She accidently ran into a tree and swooned from the blow.

When she awoken, she found herself in a gilded grand hall, at the head of a bountiful banquet table. Opposite her was a very handsome lad, dressed in wondrous splendor, who cradled his chin in his fingers while watching her longingly.

“Hello, my dear.” He cooed. “Apologies for meeting in such a manner.”

“Who are you?” the maiden asked, looking down at her clothes. Gone was her simple country garb. Instead, a bizarre but splendid silver breastplate and short silver loincloth was their replacements. Her feet were bare as well.

He arose from his seat and bowed. “Before I can make the proper introduction, you must understand one thing…you are very familiar with me. Intimately.”

The young woman shook her head slowly. “No, my lord…you have never crossed my path in this lifetime.”

The regally-clad man walked around the table and stood over the woman. “I’ve always been in your life, my lady. You greet me every day. You walk with me, you talk with me, you assist me…”

The lass shook her head again. “No, this cannot be…for I only help the people in the town I have lived in all of my life.”
“Lo!” the man smiled. “When you help the people…you help me…you help the land!”

“I beg you pardon?” the maiden could not believe her ears.

“I am our land and its people…” the man kneeled before her on one knee. “Mother Nature was the old crone that visited you, and she is from where I was born.”

“You…are the physical manifestation…the spirit of the land?” the maiden was astonished.

The youth nodded solemnly. “And I want you to become my bride…if you will be willing to have me as your groom.”

The young woman was struck speechless for spell, causing the man to continue to fill the void with another explanation. “The armor you now wear is your wedding dress. Again, apologies…as I did not mean to take liberty with your…form.”

“Yes.” The maiden spoke at last. “You can be my groom!”

“Alas!” the man cried. “You have made me quite the happy god! Now for the final part of the ceremony…the wedding rings.”

“Rings?” the maiden was confused.

“Yes, rings.” The youth replied, holding up his right palm. A small pillow manifested out of thin air, with a set of ten diamond rings resting on it. Although bewildered by the strange twist on the custom, the maiden offered her left hand. But the man firmly rejected it.

“Your feet. These ten rings are for your toes.” He told her. Surprised but elated about her new pending status, the maiden offered both feet, realizing quickly why they were left bare in the first place.

“I, the Spirit of The Land, take you to be my wife…to have and to cherish, to empower and protect until your soul grows weary.” He recited as he gently placed a glistening diamond ring on each toe.

“And I take you as my husband…to be your devoted bride and protector of your body – the land and its people – until my immortal soul grows exhausted.” She whispered as the last ring slid into place on her pinky toe.

“Then…by the will of Mother Nature, we are husband and wife.” The man smiled and pulled the maiden into a long kiss.

“So…why are the rings tingling?” the maiden asked after they had pulled away.

“The enchantments are hard at work, my beloved.” The man grinned. “You will not need for shoes, as your feet, as well as your body, will not get cold or hurt. You will find that your strength and speed is that of many men, and your senses will be more attuned than any animal. You will tire less, as your vigor will be inexhaustible. Also, your already sharp mind will now have knowledge of a great many warrior arts.”

“All of this…in service to my husband?” the Bride asked.

“No…we serve each other.” He replied. “The enchantments link to me in service of you. Just by walking, your feet will always touch me, the land. Just by protecting the people, you protect me.”

The Bride smiled, giving her otherworldly husband one last kiss. “I think I should make haste to the village then.”

“This is not goodbye, my bride.” The man waved his hand, generating a brilliant flash of light. “For I am always there.”

When the Bride awoke once again, she found herself returned to the woods surrounding her town and the ground littered with the dead bodies of her troll pursuers. Now clad in her strange “wedding dress” and wedding toe rings, and armed with an adorned but deadly sword, the Bride raced to her home with strange new speed that outstripped her land’s fastest animals.

When she arrived, she quickly laid waste to the horde, who was no match for her now deadly fighting skills. After freeing her beloved village, the Bride with the Ten Rings, as she became famously known as, soon left and traveled the land battling the forces of evil. Although she never aged after her wedding day, after many moons of fighting evil she grew tired and wanted to move on to another plane of existence with her husband.

Her husband reluctantly granted her wish, though he added a wrinkle – a “piece” of the Bride would be always reincarnated to fight to protect the land and its people – her husband. Thus, from that day forth, from the mysterious mists of time, a bride with ten wedding rings on her toes always appeared to vanquish the evil of the land.

THE END