Transgendered Fairy Tales
by Kaleigh Way

A long time ago, there was a queen who gave birth to a son so ugly and misshapen that people doubted the baby was even human. But Raelyn, a fairy who attended all royal births, promised that he would have plenty of brains. Then she gave him a gift that would allow him to bestow on the person he loved best the same degree of intelligence as himself.

This was something of a comfort to the poor queen, who was greatly disappointed at having brought such a hideous creature into the world. But indeed, the fairy was right: no sooner had the child begun to speak that his sayings were found to be quite pithy, and everything he did was so clever that everyone was charmed.

When the boy was born, he had a little tuft of hair on the front of his head, so everyone called him Riquet With The Tuft. "Riquet" was his family name.

About seven years later, the queen of a nearby kingdom gave birth to twins. The first twin, Morgandy, was more beautiful than the dawn, and the queen was so overjoyed, and her excitement was so extreme, that the midwives became alarmed. Partly to calm the queen, and partly because it was true, Raelyn declared that this little princess would have no sense at all, and would in fact be as stupid as she was beautiful. The queen was deeply mortified, and a moment later her chagrin became greater still, for the second child, a boy named Druce, proved to be extremely ugly.

"Do not be distressed, milady," said the fairy. "Your son will shine in another way. He shall have so much good sense that his looks will scarcely be noticed."

"I hope you're right!" said the queen. "But is there any way that you could grant my daughter, who is so beautiful — could you give her even a smidgen of brains? Nothing out of the ordinary — just plain common sense?"

"In the matter of brains I can't help her, your highness," said the fairy, "but as far as beauty is concerned, I can do a great deal. Because I'd do anything to please you, I will grant her the power of making beautiful any person who greatly pleases her."

The queen didn't see exactly how this gift was supposed to please her, but she kept silent.

As the twins grew, their perfections increased. Morgandy's beauty and Druce's wit were talked about everywhere.

It was also true that their defects increased as they got older. Each day the boy was uglier than the day before, and each day the girl grew duller. When people spoke to her, she either said nothing or said something idiotic. At the same time, she was so awkward that she couldn't set four vases on the mantel without breaking at least one, or drink a glass of water without spilling half of it on her clothes.

And though the girl was young and — truly — breathtakingly beautiful, she was almost always outshone by her brother. At first, everyone would gather round Princess Morgandy to see and admire her, but very soon they were all attracted by the graceful and easy conversation of her brother. The princess was often left quite alone, even in a room full of people.

She wasn't so stupid as to not be aware of this, and she often wished she could give up all her beauty for half of her brother's cleverness. Her mother the queen, who was usually kind and tactful, could not refrain from occasionally scolding Morgandy for her foolishness. The poor girl was already embarrassed by her defect, and her mother's remarks made her want to die.

One day the princess took to the woods to cry over her troubles, when she saw an ugly little man walking toward her. His appearance was very disagreeable, but his clothes were magnificient. He was the young prince Riquet With the Tuft. He'd fallen in love with her portrait, which was found everywhere, and he'd left his father's kingdom so he could have the pleasure of seeing and talking to her.

Delighted to meet her alone, he greeted her respectfully, and spoke to her politely. But when he paid her compliments, he noticed that she became quite sad.

"Princess," he said, "I can't understand how anyone as lovely as you could ever be sad. I can say I've seen many fair ladies, but none of them could begin to compare with you."

"It's kind of you to say so..." she began, but then had no idea how to go on.

"Beauty is such a great advantage in life," he continued, "that everything else can be forgotten. A person with beauty can have nothing to grieve about."

The princess sighed. "I would rather be as plain as you and have a little sense, then to be as beautiful as I am and incredibly stupid."

"Nothing shows good sense more," he told her, "than feeling we don't have it. You could say then, that the more we feel we lack good sense, the more of it we really have."

"I don't know about that," she replied. "And I'm not even sure what you just said. But one thing I do know is that I am very, very stupid, and this is the reason for the misery that is almost killing me."

"It that's all that's bothering you, I can easily put an end to your suffering."

"How could you do that?" the princess retorted. To tell the truth, she had almost forgotten what they were talking about.

"I have the power," said Riquet With the Tuft, "to give as much good sense as I possess to the person I love best. You are that person, and you can decide if you would like to receive it. The only condition is that you consent to marry me."

The princess was dumbfounded, so she remained silent.

"I can see that this perplexes you," said Riquet, "and I'm not surprised. But I will give you a year to make up your mind."

The princess didn't need a year to make her mind up; she could have told him yes right then and there, but she didn't have the sense to think of it. And so, a year went by, and she ached with the feeling that the day would never come. But at last it did, and she accepted Riquet's offer. They agreed to be married a year from that very day, and the moment she gave her word, she felt a complete change come over her. She found herself able to say all that she wished with the greatest ease, and to say it in an elegant, finished, and natural manner. She at once engaged Riquet in a brilliant and lengthy conversation, holding her own so well that Riquet was afraid he had given her a larger share of brains than he'd kept for himself.

When she returned to the palace, there was utter amazement at her sudden and extraordinary change. Everyone was used to hearing her silly, nonsensical remarks, and now she expressed herself with wit and sensibility.

The court was overjoyed. The only person who was not too pleased was her brother Druce, because now he wasn't "the clever one" anymore. Morgandy had beauty and brains, and he seemed like a ugly little monster in comparison.

The king himself began to take the princess' advice, and several times held his councils in her chambers.

The news of the change spread quickly, and princes from neighboring kingdoms made great efforts to woo her. All of them asked her hand in marriage. But she found that none of them were really very bright, so she listened to all without promising herself to any.

One day, Prince Anwel arrived. He was so powerful, so rich, so witty, and so handsome, that she couldn't help being attracted to him. Her father noticed this, and told her she could decide for herself who she'd like to marry. While this might seem like a simple choice, the more brains a person has, the harder it is to make up one's mind, especially where the heart is concerned. So, after thanking her father, she asked for a little time to think it over. In order to ponder quietly what she had to do, she went for a walk in the woods — the very same place, as it happened, where she'd met Riquet With The Tuft.

While she walked, deep in thought, she felt a thudding in the ground, as though many people were running nearby. Then she heard voices. "Bring me that boiler," said one, and another voice said, "Put more wood on that fire!"

There, in a clearing, was a large open-air kitchen full of cooks and helpers, and all the attendants and staff that a great banquet requires. A gang of spit-turners stood in a row, with their cook's hats jauntily to one side and their basters in hand, keeping time as they worked by singing a melodious song.

The princess was astonished by the spectacle, and asked for whom the work was being done.

"For Prince Riquet With the Tuft, ma'am," the head cook told her. "His wedding is today."

At this the princess was more surprised than ever. In a flash she remembered that it was a year to the very day since she promised to marry Prince Riquet With the Tuft, and was taken aback by the recollection. The reason she'd forgotten was that when she made the promise she was still without sense, and when Riquet gave her intelligence, all memory of her former foolishness was blotted out.

She hadn't gone another ten steps, when Riquet With the Tuft himself appeared before her, dressed as nicely as any prince on his wedding day.

"As you see, Princess Morgandy," he said, "I keep my word to the minute. I see that you do as well, and that you've come to make me the happiest of men."

"I'll be frank with you," she replied. "I haven't quite decided who I'm going to marry, and I'm afraid that I can't give you the answer you're looking for."

"Princess, I'm speechless," said Riquet With the Tuft.

"I'm sure you are," said the princess, "and undoubtedly, if I had to deal with a fool or a man without any sense, I'd feel quite awkward. He would insist that a princess must keep her word, and that since I'd promised to marry him, I had to marry him. However, since I'm speaking to a man of the world, a person with great good sense, I'm sure you'll listen to reason. You must see that it was difficult to decide to marry you when I hadn't any sense at all. Now that I have all the intelligence you've given me, I'm much harder to please — I mean, I'm much more discerning — and that makes my decision all the harder. Now, you can hardly expect me to live up to a promise I made when I was foolish. If you really wanted to marry me, you did wrong to take away my stupidity, and make me see more clearly than I did."

Riquet With the Tuft replied, "If — as you just said — a man without sense would be right in blaming you for breaking your word, why do you expect me to act differently? Especially now, when my future happiness is at stake? Is it right to suppose that intelligent people should be treated worse than fools? Do you honestly believe that? You, who are so obviously intelligent, and wished so strongly to be so?

"Be that as it may," he went on. "Let's get down to facts. With the exception of my ugliness, is that anything about me that displeases you? Are you unsatisfied with my breeding, my brains, my disposition, or my manners?"

"Not at all," she said. "In fact, I quite like all of those things in you."

"In that case," Riquet With the Tuft told her, "the solution is simple, since you have the power to make me the handsomest of men."

"What do you mean?" asked the princess.

"It will happen if you wish it to be so," he explained. "Let me tell you something you apparently don't know. I was able to grant you intelligence because the fairy Raelyn gave me that power at my birth. She was also present when you were born, and she gave you the power of making beautiful any person who pleases you."

"Is that so?" said the princess. "I'm quite surprised to hear it, but we can see in a moment whether it's so. I wish with my whole heart that you have, without any reserve, all the beauty that I possess and am able to give you."

No sooner had the princess uttered the words, that a great change came over Riquet With the Tuft.

Among his many imperfections, Riquet had a club foot, a humped back, and a large, craggy head that sat crookedly on his shoulders. These features softened and shrank until his limbs were symmetrical and firm, his back was straight and strong, and a fine head stood tall upon his shoulders. And so it was with every part of him: they softened, curved or straightened, drew in or filled out.

Certainly, the princess could have been more exact in her wish, or less generous in her giving. For part of the beauty the princess possessed, and part of the beauty she wished on Riquet, was feminine beauty. Did the princess wish this in her heart? Did she imply it in her words? Was there an innocent mistake? There was no knowing, and there is no telling.

In any case, what's done is done, and there was no undoing. Riquet With the Tuft was now a lovely girl, a princess in all rights, appearances, and effects — and if she was not quite the twin of the princess who stood before him, she could have passed for a bewitching dark-haired cousin.

"What have you done, my lady?" he cried, looking down at himself. His large, mannish clothes now fit him badly, and he struggled to keep his — or her — dignity and decency. At last, with many a blush, Riquet With the Tuft left an oversized pair of pants and boots in the field, and, wrapping her more than ample cloak around her, followed the princess as best she could.

The first order of business was dressing the new princess. The ladies-in-waiting saw to that, and the lovely maiden was soon fitted out in one of the best dresses in the castle. Riquet With the Tuft couldn't help but admit that a great improvement had been made. Before today, a mirror was something he instinctively ignored. Now, she found them a positive joy. She turned and twisted and gazed and marvelled. She studied and admired herself from every possible angle, until the ladies-in-waiting grew tired of waiting, and led her downstairs to the great hall, where she was received with great warmth and even greater interest.

Princess Morgandy, with perhaps a bit more haste than necessary, informed her father that she'd set her heart on Prince Anwel. Clearly, she reasoned, Riquet With the Tuft could no longer have any claim upon her.

Riquet herself realized this, as she descended the stair with every eye upon her. She wanted to marry; she thought the question was settled, but now it all was thrown into the air, with no telling where it would land.

There were many princes on hand who'd come to woo the Princess Morgandy, but by now they'd seen how things were. When another lovely princess — Riquet herself — appeared, they adjusted their aim.

Riquet was pleased by their attention, but one face had caught her eye — the ugly face of Prince Druce. Riquet, though beautiful now, felt a bond of sympathy with the young man, and as soon as possible, she struck up a conversation.

She should have been surprised, I suppose, by how pleasant and easy it was to talk with him. It was just as the fairy had said: Druce's good sense was so abundant, that after a while Riquet forgot the prince's ugliness, and wanted to talk with no one else. On Druce's part, he'd been eclipsed so long by his sister's beauty and brilliance, that the attentions of this lovely girl were like water in the desert to him.

Just as Morgandy had forgotten Riquet when he gave her good sense, so Riquet forgot Morgandy when she gave him beauty. In fact, when Prince Anwel was introduced as "Morgandy's future husband," Riquet sincerely wished the pair well, and thought them quite lucky in the match.

Druce and Riquet became the greatest of friends, and soon they passed from conversations to kisses. For the first time in his life, Druce had a sweetheart. Not many days passed before he asked for her hand and was gladly accepted. If he was happy before, now he was in heaven.

Morgandy and Riquet each gave birth to three children. All of them were handsome and clever, but no more than you'd expect, and the fairy Raelyn saw no need to make adjustments.

© 2007 by Kaleigh Way