not a needle but a drink
LJ idol week 22: the straw that stirs the drink (partnered with the lovely & very talented cemetaria)
Before Briar Rose was torn up by the roots, she attended every party, dancing with the other princesses and lighting up the hall. You know the sort: the girl that makes the rest of us invisible. You turn pale with fear at the thought that you might remain unseen forever, so you buy push-up bras and anti-aging creams and enough shades of lipstick to paint an entire greenhouse into spring. You shiver when you see women who make birds fall silent, or women who look otherworldly when they're standing in the middle of the grocery store. You know this fear, but you would never admit it.
We have stories in common with these women who haunt us. And like our own stories, fairy tales intersect too: Cinderella stole Snow White's lovers, Thumbelina used to laugh unkindly at Ariel's emerald tail, Beauty cut off Rapunzel's hair while she was sleeping. They watched each other out of the corner of their eyes, each wondering who would be remembered as the fairest of them all. Briar usually won and so the other princesses started to plot.
They befriended witches who had never been beautiful and held enough bitterness in their breasts to stir a potent storm in anyone who crossed them. The princesses wanted Briar to suffer. They had laughed when Briar said the word "rape", told her she shouldn't have drunk quite so much or maybe next time she shouldn't dress like that. Briar kept waking up in unfamiliar beds, remembering only that there had been a drink. Maybe It had tasted a little funny, but the old motorcycle dyke she had been talking to at closing time had such good stories that the taste of the drink was the last thing on her mind.
Briar glowed like the dawn her father had wanted to name her after - Aurora - but her mother had insisted on Briar. She was a prickly little child, forever tearing the pages out of books and chasing her father's horses. She grew up though, blossomed so that one could resist watching her as her skin lit the clubs. Briar didn't notice their eyes on her anymore - she was used to it. So she never saw the knot of beautiful women glaring, chanting, waiting like lions in tight leather skirts.
The hands that mixed the drink were a mystery as they stirred the straw, disturbing the ice cubes that resembled skulls if you saw them in the right light. Jealousy illuminated the drink, an emotion powerful enough to suck the beauty from anyone's bones. The other women, with their hunter's eyes, were eager as they watched Briar expose her pretty neck and close her eyes with the pleasure of a well-mixed cocktail.
The next morning, Briar didn't wake. Her skin had turned cold but still glittered, and her beauty had flown out through her mouth, infecting others. Now a sleeping beast instead of a beauty, her skin sparked green and gold, reminiscent of the drink she could not remember. There were too many men, and because she was so beautiful they all wanted to possess her. So they took her, in strips and scraps, one tearing a dainty braid from her head as a souvenir. They left her filthy, but still she glowed.
The other princesses paid the witches to slip Jealousy into Briar's drink, and they paid the princes to rip open Briar's heart with their teeth. The princesses never thought about what might happen to them after parties; they just wanted to be the prettiest. By the time someone thought to write their stories, it had been long enough that the true sequence of events had been forgotten.
This is how all fairy tale princesses became beautiful; they stole their beauty and blamed it on the witches.
♥ pacing while praying ♥ you are beautiful ♥ digging for buried crap ♥ we should all be narcissists ♥ ˌɪnkənˈsiːvəbl̩ ♥ juicy memories ♥ relax. breathe. bupkis. ♥ a gypsy heart ♥ a month of rain ♥ up is the new down ♥ your words, her silences ♥ ground rules for a hairless housemate ♥ the smell of particleboard in the morning ♥ from an aspiring spinster ♥ scarves & sweaters & shawls ♥ on emotional idiocy ♥ fairytale-maker ♥ betrayal by choice ♥ how to age gracefully ♥ San Francisco's smile ♥