The Peasant (Fairy Tale)
Title: The Peasant (Fairy Tale)
Author: twilight_rush
Fandom: NeverShoutNever; Hey Monday; All Time Low
Summary: He's going to prove to Jack and the whole kingdom he's not just some peasant boy and that he will marry Cassadee.
Pairing: Christofer Drew/Cassadee Pope/Jack Barakat
Rated: PG-13
Warning: DEATH
Disclaimer: I am the great pretender. If you're the above people RUN AWAY.
A long time ago, back when kingdoms still existed, there once lived a king who had three daughters. All two were married away, but the youngest, Cassadee, was not. So the king put out a notice to all available suitors who wanted to marry her to come to the castle.
Of course, Cassadee wasn’t happy about it. She refused to just marry some greasy stranger, which was so far every man that had come their way. She would simply say, “No. Now go away, please.” All the men were either too old, too young, too creepy or just plain nasty! Her father became agitated and growled that if she did not pick one he would pick one for her.
She couldn’t, but she didn’t want her father to choose. There was one boy, though, one she met a while back in the townsquare. She smiled silly, elate filling her up. She had hoped he’d be here. But even if he was, what if her father just said no?
“Excuse me, sir! Sorry!” Christofer laughed as his guitar accidentally bumped a man in his groin. The man glared at him, threatening to strangle the boy.
“What in the world . . .?” a man scoffed as Christofer came to the end of the line. The other men all turned with laughing glares at him. Now he was fairly tall but these men were practically giants. He shifted and cleared his throat awkwardly. The only thing these men could see was a dirty young boy with uncombed hair and what was this? A guitar? Honestly, did he really think he was going to win over the princess’s heart and the king’s favor? Bah!
He did quite think that, since what they don’t know is he has won over the princess’s heart.
It was a modest day and he was out in the townsquare, playing a song for all the people who cared to listen. Among the gleeful crowd was her, a scarf covering her head and partially her face but he still recognized her. The shock had caused him to mess up a few notes, but he kept on. And she kept on smiling and clapping.
She came back every day after that. Every day he had a new song for her to dance to. She would pull him away for walks when he was done. All they ever did was talk and play until one day . . .
Now here Christofer was today. About to go before the king and prove to him he was a perfect match for his daughter. He was going to do it the right way, instead of running off with her and getting married in secrecy like he heard some people did in another place.
He was not, however, all that confident. All these men had a little something to offer, and all he had was his instrument. He’s been told he’s good at charming people with his songs, but still . . .
He was thirteen men away from finding out.
A fat vein was protruding from the king’s head and lifting his crown. Cassadee was growing frustrated too, but she was to say yes to only one boy and not until she saw him would she ---
She gasped loudly as the boy stood before them. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. The boy gave the king a quick bow and a lovesick glance to Cassadee before addressing the king again.
“You are?” the king demanded sourly, clearly not impressed.
“Christofer Ingle, sir!” he greeted cheerfully.
“And you think I should give you my daughter’s hand in marriage?”
“How else would you do it?” When the king glared at him he quickly said, “I mean, yes. I do.”
“You are a mere boy! A mere peasant! Not better than a serf, I say!”
“Father!” Cassadee voice echoed, standing up with a defiant look. “This is the boy I want to marry!”
“No!”
“But you said -“
The king ordered her to sit down and she did so without a word. He wiped the sweat off his pink face with a cloth from his pocket. He said to Christofer, “Surly, you are not the last one?”
“Last time I checked I was -“
The creak of the door opening was heard, and everyone looked as a figure appeared. Uneasiness came in Christofer as the stranger got closer. He walked with confidence toward them. Even Cassadee was seriously engrossed.
“And you?” the king said.
The man put on his best smile, bowed and answered, “Jack Barakat, Your Highness.”
The young peasant looked at the king and knew immediately he preferred this Barakat guy over him. He was clean and rather sharp-looking. He glanced over to Cassadee, and to his dismay, she appeared confined to his simple appearance, in awe. But when she looked at Christofer with a reassuring smile, he realized she was not falling for him, thank Heavens.
However, the king’s next words nearly broke him down. “So you think you can be a good husband to my daughter?”
“Yes, sir,” Jack said, smiling, and Christofer wished he had the guts to hit his head with his guitar till his brain was in his mouth. “I can give her all she needs and more.”
The king can’t simply pick him like that, Christofer thought. Even though the king had delight radiating off him that even Christofer could feel. He pointed a wrinkled finger and proclaimed, “You shall marry Cassadee.”
“NO!” The scream broke their eardrums, even causing the king to jump back in fright. The girl even dared to step down from her throne, stand by the peasant and take his hand in hers.
“I want to marry Christofer. I love him!” she spat.
“Bah!” the king yelled, standing up. “What kind of life can you have with him? Nothing! Which is why you should go with Jack.”
Cassadee’s face was a nasty red, like that of the Devil’s. Her body shook as she cried out, “I’ll run away! I’ll run away before I marry Jack!”
“I’ll have you locked in the tower and then send that boy off to the gallows!”
“Ack!”
Poor Christofer, having been silent, was nervous by the tensed, heavy silence that followed. He could hear his own heart thumping, hear Jack’s heavy breathing.
The king willed himself to calm down and sat back down. It was another moment before he spoke. “Very well. You can marry him - if he wins.”
They waited and watched for his continuation. He looked each person in the eye. “Whoever gets me the goblin’s golden eye first, can marry Cassadee.”
Again there was resentment. “Those horrid creatures? They’ll be killed!” she shouted, holding Christofer’s hand tighter.
“Then you’ll marry Jack. I’m giving you a chance - and you either accept it or not.”
Christofer looked to Jack, who was equally as uncomfortable and unsure of everything. But then the older man’s eyes caught his and he smirked something of coolness. Nonverbally saying he was better than Christofer and would get Cassadee.
“I accept the challenge,” Christofer said without another thought.
“So do I,” added Jack.
“Then you start tomorrow at sunrise.”
Christofer was there the next day. He had nothing but his ukulele strapped to his hip, a measly dagger, and a little satchel filled with some food. He felt inadequate next to Jack, who had a genuine sword.
They stood on a path, one going left and the other right, but both heading to the same destination: the murky swamps where the goblins reside.
“Do we understand the procedure?” the king bellowed from between them. “Whoever gets the golden eye first, and brings it to me, will marry Cassadee.”
At the mention of her name Christofer looked over at the girl, who was standing aloof, wanting to run over and kiss Christofer. She settled for smiling warmly at him and placing her hand over her heart.
They did not see the glare Jack bestowed upon the boy, the redness of his face as he bit the inside of his cheek.
The king ordered them off.
The murky waters made his pants cling tightly to his skin, numbing his bones. It looked almost nighttime with the trees hanging over. Christofer slapped another mosquito against his neck, urging himself to keep going, going faster, before Jack got there.
Assuming Jack hadn’t gotten there already.
As he got closer to where the creatures lived, the churning in his stomach intensified and his sweating broke out faster. Goblins were nasty little things. They might be funny to talk about in stories to children, but no wanted to meet one. And no one certainly wanted to venture into a land full of them. Though all the negativity bounced around in his head - he kept telling himself it was all for Cassadee, and to prove to the king and everyone else that he wasn’t just a simpleton, a weakling. He wanted to at least try.
Smoke curled up in the air, drifting about. He heard the sounds of wet and raspy laughter and drunken singing - all in a language he did not understand. He stood before a very large wooden door, hand up in midair. He took a deep breath and banged on it.
The language ceased.
He waited for someone to say who are you? but when no one did he feared he got the wrong place, or maybe they were setting up to rain arrows on him. Instead the door opened furiously and a wrinkled hand grabbed him and roughly pulled him in, where he was thrown to the ground and got pebbles in his mouth.
Green feet with yellow, falling off toenails appeared in his vision. Christofer scrambled onto his butt, nervously watching all around him.
They were scarier in person.
Skeleton-like faces stared out at Christofer. Some were sneering while others looked with curiosity.
One of them rasped out, “And what do you want?”
Christofer stood up, making the goblins come to the top of his stomach, but not making them any less threatening.
“I’ve come to take the golden eye,” he squeaked, sounding pathetic and little.
The crowd burst into laughter as the voice continued, chuckling. “Take my eye, eh? Isn’t that what the last fellow said? And what did we do? We roughed him up and threw him out!”
The owner of the voice appeared before Christofer, looking exactly the same as the others, but his right eye - pure gold - glowed brilliantly.
So Jack had gotten there first, but he hadn’t been able to take the eye. Christofer felt a tiny surge of hope course through him.
The goblin asked, “Why should I give you my eye?”
Christofer answered honestly. “So I can marry my love - the princess.”
“That’s what the last fellow said and we said no!”
“I need to it to prove to people I’m not just some peasant boy.”
“I could care less!” the goblin wheezed. “Could care less!”
Christofer’s cheeks heated and his hope was beginning to diminish as the goblins pointed at him and sneered. “Rough him up!” the goblin commanded, and a few goblins began to take out clubs, rocks, while others were simply to use their fists.
They began advancing, and Christofer touched his dagger, feeling only its worthlessness.
“N-no! Wait!” Christofer screeched. “I’ll give you something in return for your eye!”
The goblin told the others to stop. “What can you possibly give us?”
Christofer tried to think. The only thing worth of value on him was his little ukulele. “I’ll give you music!” Christofer exclaimed. “I’ll play you a song that’ll be stuck in your heads forever! You’ll sing and dance along till I say stop.”
“Music?” the goblin said in disbelief. “No music can make us feel.”
“But if I can, you’ll give me your eye?”
“If you’re so certain, then yes.” So Christofer unstrapped his ukulele from his hip, sat down, and began to play and sing. The song filled up the lonely cold swamp and the dark corners began to fill with light as Christofer went along. The atmosphere was less dreadful.
“What is this?” the goblins all cried. They began to sway, some tapping their feet against their well. The lead goblin began to seethe as all around him others started to hop around, holding hands and singing along. They were smiling brightly and laughing merrily.
“Stop it!” the goblin yelled, as he as well moved to the rhythm, his hands in the sky.
The goblins were all under Christofer’s charm as long as he sang and played. They danced all afternoon until finally the leader of the goblins begged him to have mercy and told him he would give him his eye. “So as long as you never come back!” he shouted.
Christofer stopped and the goblin took out his eye. It was brighter than pure gold and it made the area shimmer. Christofer graciously took it and placed it in his satchel. With a bow and a thank you, he left the goblin realm to return home.
This was proof he and Cassadee were meant to be! Now he was on his way back to the castle, where the king will have no choice but to let Cassadee marry him.
But his journey was sidetracked when Jack appeared from a clump of bushes and stood in his path.
“You have the eye?” questioned Jack, noticing the happy demeanor the boy carried.
“Yes,” Christofer answered. “And so you should be on your way, as Cassadee is rightfully mine.”
“You fool!” Jack yelled. “There’s no way the king will simply hand her over to a pathetic boy. You might as well give me the eye and save yourself from embarrassment.”
Christofer didn’t budge. He stood there and said, “No.”
When he tried to walk pass Jack the man tackled him to the ground and tried to grab the eye from the satchel. Christofer punched him in the eye and Jack hit him in the mouth.
“Cassadee is mine!” Jack shrilled, and in absolute fury he grabbed the dagger from Christofer’s hip and stabbed him in the heart. He held it there until Christofer stopped gurgling, stopped struggling, and finally died.
Jack wiped the sweat gathering on his eyelashes, and stood up. He took the satchel and made his way back to the king.
The king and the princess were still outside, waiting for either Jack or Christofer. When they saw Jack all bruised, they immediately knew he had won. Cassadee asked where Christofer was, to which the king answered with, “It does not matter! He is not here. Jack has the golden eye. The wedding is tomorrow!”
The golden eye lay on the dresser, in a crystal box, watching the princess and her husband sleep. Jack slept soundly, arm draped over Cassadee’s waist. Cassadee was sickened, her stomach swirling as Jack’s breath hit her neck. She stared hopelessly at the wall, when out of the corner of her eye she saw the eye glowing madly.
Carefully, she untwined from Jack and tip-toed to the eye. “What’s wrong?” she asked and, surprisingly, she got a reply.
“The man you sleep with is a lie,
on the ground he left the boy to die,
who got truly got the golden eye!”
“Jack killed Christofer?” gasped Cassadee, too loudly for Jack woke up. And when she confronted him about this, he laughed and said she was simply dreaming.
“I do not know what happened to him. You’re tired, come back to bed.”
And despite the nagging in her, Cassadee forgot about the eye and went back to sleep.
It said it again the next night. And the night after that. The third time Cassadee truly believed it.
She confronted Jack again. “Cassadee, you’re crazy!” he yelled. “I wouldn’t murder anyone!”
“Yes, you would!” Cassadee shouted, holding up the eye. “It tells the truth! You killed Christofer and when the king hears this you’ll be put to death!”
She ran to the door but he was faster. Jack grabbed Cassadee by the neck, causing her to drop the eye and it rolled under the bed. He slammed her to the ground and his hands tightened around her neck until he could almost hear her bone break and see that her face was now a deathly blue.
“Why can’t you just accept you belong with me!” he screamed, until Cassadee stopped kicking, until she stopped breathing.
He killed the princess.
He could go to the guillotine for it.
So he quickly thought up a scheme. He’ll make it seem like he killed herself. He’ll get a rope and tell everyone he found her hanging and as he tried to get her down the rope broke. She was already dead by that point.
No one will ever know.
And that’s how it was. The kingdom mourned her death, while sympathizing with her husband.
Jack lay in bed one night, when he saw a glow emitting from under the bed. He reached under and picked up the golden eye. He placed it on the side table and was ready to close his eyes when he heard,
<>“The peasant lays dead,
the princess slain.
Oh, how the king will boil,
when he finds out it was Jack Barakat!”
“Who’s there?” Jack blurted, sitting up. He saw no one and concluded he was dreaming. So he tried to go back to sleep.
“The peasant lays dead,
the princess slain.
Oh, how the king will boil,
when he finds out it was Jack Barakat!”
With a start, he sat up and realized it was the eye. He plucked it up and yelled at it to shut up. It only repeated itself. He found a hammer and tried to smash it. It only shone brighter, reciting the poem again. Red-faced, he threw the eye out the window, where it bounced and rolled to the feet of a knight on guard duty. He picked it, listened to its poem, and hurriedly ran to the king.
It was dinnertime and the king and Jack sat the dinner table. The king asked Jack, “It’s been a week since
Cassadee’s death. How are you holding up?”
Jack stopped drinking his wine long enough to say, “I miss her every day. I wish she was here was us.”
“Yes, yes. As do I,” the king sighed. “. . . What do you think ever happened to that peasant?”
“Well, my guess is he just wasn’t in love with Cassadee like he thought. He bailed out on the competition and probably went to another town so he wouldn’t have to face Cassadee.”
The king nodded and they continued their meal. After awhile the king asked, “As you may know a lot of crimes have been committed lately. And as a king it’s my duty to decide the punishment. But there’s one I’m troubled with. Jack, what’s the severest punishment you can think of for any person who has committed a hideous act?”
Jack stared at his empty wine glass and rubbed his drowsy eyes. “Severest? Hmm, well, the most terrible punishment I can think of is to be disemboweled!” He grinned drunkenly, before refilling his cup.
“Very well then!” announced the king as he shot up out of his chair. “If that’s the way you want to be punished - then so be it!”
So at his call two Knights came and locked up a blubbering Jack in the dungeon. The next day he was executed.
Every night after that, the king looked sadly at the golden eye which sat on a stand in the garden. It glowed and in it the king could see the princess, smiling as the peasant played her a song.
Author: twilight_rush
Fandom: NeverShoutNever; Hey Monday; All Time Low
Summary: He's going to prove to Jack and the whole kingdom he's not just some peasant boy and that he will marry Cassadee.
Pairing: Christofer Drew/Cassadee Pope/Jack Barakat
Rated: PG-13
Warning: DEATH
Disclaimer: I am the great pretender. If you're the above people RUN AWAY.
A long time ago, back when kingdoms still existed, there once lived a king who had three daughters. All two were married away, but the youngest, Cassadee, was not. So the king put out a notice to all available suitors who wanted to marry her to come to the castle.
Of course, Cassadee wasn’t happy about it. She refused to just marry some greasy stranger, which was so far every man that had come their way. She would simply say, “No. Now go away, please.” All the men were either too old, too young, too creepy or just plain nasty! Her father became agitated and growled that if she did not pick one he would pick one for her.
She couldn’t, but she didn’t want her father to choose. There was one boy, though, one she met a while back in the townsquare. She smiled silly, elate filling her up. She had hoped he’d be here. But even if he was, what if her father just said no?
“Excuse me, sir! Sorry!” Christofer laughed as his guitar accidentally bumped a man in his groin. The man glared at him, threatening to strangle the boy.
“What in the world . . .?” a man scoffed as Christofer came to the end of the line. The other men all turned with laughing glares at him. Now he was fairly tall but these men were practically giants. He shifted and cleared his throat awkwardly. The only thing these men could see was a dirty young boy with uncombed hair and what was this? A guitar? Honestly, did he really think he was going to win over the princess’s heart and the king’s favor? Bah!
He did quite think that, since what they don’t know is he has won over the princess’s heart.
It was a modest day and he was out in the townsquare, playing a song for all the people who cared to listen. Among the gleeful crowd was her, a scarf covering her head and partially her face but he still recognized her. The shock had caused him to mess up a few notes, but he kept on. And she kept on smiling and clapping.
She came back every day after that. Every day he had a new song for her to dance to. She would pull him away for walks when he was done. All they ever did was talk and play until one day . . .
Now here Christofer was today. About to go before the king and prove to him he was a perfect match for his daughter. He was going to do it the right way, instead of running off with her and getting married in secrecy like he heard some people did in another place.
He was not, however, all that confident. All these men had a little something to offer, and all he had was his instrument. He’s been told he’s good at charming people with his songs, but still . . .
He was thirteen men away from finding out.
A fat vein was protruding from the king’s head and lifting his crown. Cassadee was growing frustrated too, but she was to say yes to only one boy and not until she saw him would she ---
She gasped loudly as the boy stood before them. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. The boy gave the king a quick bow and a lovesick glance to Cassadee before addressing the king again.
“You are?” the king demanded sourly, clearly not impressed.
“Christofer Ingle, sir!” he greeted cheerfully.
“And you think I should give you my daughter’s hand in marriage?”
“How else would you do it?” When the king glared at him he quickly said, “I mean, yes. I do.”
“You are a mere boy! A mere peasant! Not better than a serf, I say!”
“Father!” Cassadee voice echoed, standing up with a defiant look. “This is the boy I want to marry!”
“No!”
“But you said -“
The king ordered her to sit down and she did so without a word. He wiped the sweat off his pink face with a cloth from his pocket. He said to Christofer, “Surly, you are not the last one?”
“Last time I checked I was -“
The creak of the door opening was heard, and everyone looked as a figure appeared. Uneasiness came in Christofer as the stranger got closer. He walked with confidence toward them. Even Cassadee was seriously engrossed.
“And you?” the king said.
The man put on his best smile, bowed and answered, “Jack Barakat, Your Highness.”
The young peasant looked at the king and knew immediately he preferred this Barakat guy over him. He was clean and rather sharp-looking. He glanced over to Cassadee, and to his dismay, she appeared confined to his simple appearance, in awe. But when she looked at Christofer with a reassuring smile, he realized she was not falling for him, thank Heavens.
However, the king’s next words nearly broke him down. “So you think you can be a good husband to my daughter?”
“Yes, sir,” Jack said, smiling, and Christofer wished he had the guts to hit his head with his guitar till his brain was in his mouth. “I can give her all she needs and more.”
The king can’t simply pick him like that, Christofer thought. Even though the king had delight radiating off him that even Christofer could feel. He pointed a wrinkled finger and proclaimed, “You shall marry Cassadee.”
“NO!” The scream broke their eardrums, even causing the king to jump back in fright. The girl even dared to step down from her throne, stand by the peasant and take his hand in hers.
“I want to marry Christofer. I love him!” she spat.
“Bah!” the king yelled, standing up. “What kind of life can you have with him? Nothing! Which is why you should go with Jack.”
Cassadee’s face was a nasty red, like that of the Devil’s. Her body shook as she cried out, “I’ll run away! I’ll run away before I marry Jack!”
“I’ll have you locked in the tower and then send that boy off to the gallows!”
“Ack!”
Poor Christofer, having been silent, was nervous by the tensed, heavy silence that followed. He could hear his own heart thumping, hear Jack’s heavy breathing.
The king willed himself to calm down and sat back down. It was another moment before he spoke. “Very well. You can marry him - if he wins.”
They waited and watched for his continuation. He looked each person in the eye. “Whoever gets me the goblin’s golden eye first, can marry Cassadee.”
Again there was resentment. “Those horrid creatures? They’ll be killed!” she shouted, holding Christofer’s hand tighter.
“Then you’ll marry Jack. I’m giving you a chance - and you either accept it or not.”
Christofer looked to Jack, who was equally as uncomfortable and unsure of everything. But then the older man’s eyes caught his and he smirked something of coolness. Nonverbally saying he was better than Christofer and would get Cassadee.
“I accept the challenge,” Christofer said without another thought.
“So do I,” added Jack.
“Then you start tomorrow at sunrise.”
Christofer was there the next day. He had nothing but his ukulele strapped to his hip, a measly dagger, and a little satchel filled with some food. He felt inadequate next to Jack, who had a genuine sword.
They stood on a path, one going left and the other right, but both heading to the same destination: the murky swamps where the goblins reside.
“Do we understand the procedure?” the king bellowed from between them. “Whoever gets the golden eye first, and brings it to me, will marry Cassadee.”
At the mention of her name Christofer looked over at the girl, who was standing aloof, wanting to run over and kiss Christofer. She settled for smiling warmly at him and placing her hand over her heart.
They did not see the glare Jack bestowed upon the boy, the redness of his face as he bit the inside of his cheek.
The king ordered them off.
The murky waters made his pants cling tightly to his skin, numbing his bones. It looked almost nighttime with the trees hanging over. Christofer slapped another mosquito against his neck, urging himself to keep going, going faster, before Jack got there.
Assuming Jack hadn’t gotten there already.
As he got closer to where the creatures lived, the churning in his stomach intensified and his sweating broke out faster. Goblins were nasty little things. They might be funny to talk about in stories to children, but no wanted to meet one. And no one certainly wanted to venture into a land full of them. Though all the negativity bounced around in his head - he kept telling himself it was all for Cassadee, and to prove to the king and everyone else that he wasn’t just a simpleton, a weakling. He wanted to at least try.
Smoke curled up in the air, drifting about. He heard the sounds of wet and raspy laughter and drunken singing - all in a language he did not understand. He stood before a very large wooden door, hand up in midair. He took a deep breath and banged on it.
The language ceased.
He waited for someone to say who are you? but when no one did he feared he got the wrong place, or maybe they were setting up to rain arrows on him. Instead the door opened furiously and a wrinkled hand grabbed him and roughly pulled him in, where he was thrown to the ground and got pebbles in his mouth.
Green feet with yellow, falling off toenails appeared in his vision. Christofer scrambled onto his butt, nervously watching all around him.
They were scarier in person.
Skeleton-like faces stared out at Christofer. Some were sneering while others looked with curiosity.
One of them rasped out, “And what do you want?”
Christofer stood up, making the goblins come to the top of his stomach, but not making them any less threatening.
“I’ve come to take the golden eye,” he squeaked, sounding pathetic and little.
The crowd burst into laughter as the voice continued, chuckling. “Take my eye, eh? Isn’t that what the last fellow said? And what did we do? We roughed him up and threw him out!”
The owner of the voice appeared before Christofer, looking exactly the same as the others, but his right eye - pure gold - glowed brilliantly.
So Jack had gotten there first, but he hadn’t been able to take the eye. Christofer felt a tiny surge of hope course through him.
The goblin asked, “Why should I give you my eye?”
Christofer answered honestly. “So I can marry my love - the princess.”
“That’s what the last fellow said and we said no!”
“I need to it to prove to people I’m not just some peasant boy.”
“I could care less!” the goblin wheezed. “Could care less!”
Christofer’s cheeks heated and his hope was beginning to diminish as the goblins pointed at him and sneered. “Rough him up!” the goblin commanded, and a few goblins began to take out clubs, rocks, while others were simply to use their fists.
They began advancing, and Christofer touched his dagger, feeling only its worthlessness.
“N-no! Wait!” Christofer screeched. “I’ll give you something in return for your eye!”
The goblin told the others to stop. “What can you possibly give us?”
Christofer tried to think. The only thing worth of value on him was his little ukulele. “I’ll give you music!” Christofer exclaimed. “I’ll play you a song that’ll be stuck in your heads forever! You’ll sing and dance along till I say stop.”
“Music?” the goblin said in disbelief. “No music can make us feel.”
“But if I can, you’ll give me your eye?”
“If you’re so certain, then yes.” So Christofer unstrapped his ukulele from his hip, sat down, and began to play and sing. The song filled up the lonely cold swamp and the dark corners began to fill with light as Christofer went along. The atmosphere was less dreadful.
“What is this?” the goblins all cried. They began to sway, some tapping their feet against their well. The lead goblin began to seethe as all around him others started to hop around, holding hands and singing along. They were smiling brightly and laughing merrily.
“Stop it!” the goblin yelled, as he as well moved to the rhythm, his hands in the sky.
The goblins were all under Christofer’s charm as long as he sang and played. They danced all afternoon until finally the leader of the goblins begged him to have mercy and told him he would give him his eye. “So as long as you never come back!” he shouted.
Christofer stopped and the goblin took out his eye. It was brighter than pure gold and it made the area shimmer. Christofer graciously took it and placed it in his satchel. With a bow and a thank you, he left the goblin realm to return home.
This was proof he and Cassadee were meant to be! Now he was on his way back to the castle, where the king will have no choice but to let Cassadee marry him.
But his journey was sidetracked when Jack appeared from a clump of bushes and stood in his path.
“You have the eye?” questioned Jack, noticing the happy demeanor the boy carried.
“Yes,” Christofer answered. “And so you should be on your way, as Cassadee is rightfully mine.”
“You fool!” Jack yelled. “There’s no way the king will simply hand her over to a pathetic boy. You might as well give me the eye and save yourself from embarrassment.”
Christofer didn’t budge. He stood there and said, “No.”
When he tried to walk pass Jack the man tackled him to the ground and tried to grab the eye from the satchel. Christofer punched him in the eye and Jack hit him in the mouth.
“Cassadee is mine!” Jack shrilled, and in absolute fury he grabbed the dagger from Christofer’s hip and stabbed him in the heart. He held it there until Christofer stopped gurgling, stopped struggling, and finally died.
Jack wiped the sweat gathering on his eyelashes, and stood up. He took the satchel and made his way back to the king.
The king and the princess were still outside, waiting for either Jack or Christofer. When they saw Jack all bruised, they immediately knew he had won. Cassadee asked where Christofer was, to which the king answered with, “It does not matter! He is not here. Jack has the golden eye. The wedding is tomorrow!”
The golden eye lay on the dresser, in a crystal box, watching the princess and her husband sleep. Jack slept soundly, arm draped over Cassadee’s waist. Cassadee was sickened, her stomach swirling as Jack’s breath hit her neck. She stared hopelessly at the wall, when out of the corner of her eye she saw the eye glowing madly.
Carefully, she untwined from Jack and tip-toed to the eye. “What’s wrong?” she asked and, surprisingly, she got a reply.
“The man you sleep with is a lie,
on the ground he left the boy to die,
who got truly got the golden eye!”
“Jack killed Christofer?” gasped Cassadee, too loudly for Jack woke up. And when she confronted him about this, he laughed and said she was simply dreaming.
“I do not know what happened to him. You’re tired, come back to bed.”
And despite the nagging in her, Cassadee forgot about the eye and went back to sleep.
It said it again the next night. And the night after that. The third time Cassadee truly believed it.
She confronted Jack again. “Cassadee, you’re crazy!” he yelled. “I wouldn’t murder anyone!”
“Yes, you would!” Cassadee shouted, holding up the eye. “It tells the truth! You killed Christofer and when the king hears this you’ll be put to death!”
She ran to the door but he was faster. Jack grabbed Cassadee by the neck, causing her to drop the eye and it rolled under the bed. He slammed her to the ground and his hands tightened around her neck until he could almost hear her bone break and see that her face was now a deathly blue.
“Why can’t you just accept you belong with me!” he screamed, until Cassadee stopped kicking, until she stopped breathing.
He killed the princess.
He could go to the guillotine for it.
So he quickly thought up a scheme. He’ll make it seem like he killed herself. He’ll get a rope and tell everyone he found her hanging and as he tried to get her down the rope broke. She was already dead by that point.
No one will ever know.
And that’s how it was. The kingdom mourned her death, while sympathizing with her husband.
Jack lay in bed one night, when he saw a glow emitting from under the bed. He reached under and picked up the golden eye. He placed it on the side table and was ready to close his eyes when he heard,
<>“The peasant lays dead,
the princess slain.
Oh, how the king will boil,
when he finds out it was Jack Barakat!”
“Who’s there?” Jack blurted, sitting up. He saw no one and concluded he was dreaming. So he tried to go back to sleep.
“The peasant lays dead,
the princess slain.
Oh, how the king will boil,
when he finds out it was Jack Barakat!”
With a start, he sat up and realized it was the eye. He plucked it up and yelled at it to shut up. It only repeated itself. He found a hammer and tried to smash it. It only shone brighter, reciting the poem again. Red-faced, he threw the eye out the window, where it bounced and rolled to the feet of a knight on guard duty. He picked it, listened to its poem, and hurriedly ran to the king.
It was dinnertime and the king and Jack sat the dinner table. The king asked Jack, “It’s been a week since
Cassadee’s death. How are you holding up?”
Jack stopped drinking his wine long enough to say, “I miss her every day. I wish she was here was us.”
“Yes, yes. As do I,” the king sighed. “. . . What do you think ever happened to that peasant?”
“Well, my guess is he just wasn’t in love with Cassadee like he thought. He bailed out on the competition and probably went to another town so he wouldn’t have to face Cassadee.”
The king nodded and they continued their meal. After awhile the king asked, “As you may know a lot of crimes have been committed lately. And as a king it’s my duty to decide the punishment. But there’s one I’m troubled with. Jack, what’s the severest punishment you can think of for any person who has committed a hideous act?”
Jack stared at his empty wine glass and rubbed his drowsy eyes. “Severest? Hmm, well, the most terrible punishment I can think of is to be disemboweled!” He grinned drunkenly, before refilling his cup.
“Very well then!” announced the king as he shot up out of his chair. “If that’s the way you want to be punished - then so be it!”
So at his call two Knights came and locked up a blubbering Jack in the dungeon. The next day he was executed.
Every night after that, the king looked sadly at the golden eye which sat on a stand in the garden. It glowed and in it the king could see the princess, smiling as the peasant played her a song.