There’s something very… modular about fairyÂ
tales. The individual building blocks are  firmly established and don’t tend to change -Â
it’s just the way they’re arranged that makes  a story unique. You got dashing princes,Â
beautiful princesses, questing knights,  benevolent kings and queens, evil magicÂ
people, good magic people, heroic peasants,  cruel step-parents, clever tricksters, talkingÂ
animals, dragons, trolls, the works. Spin a  few wheels and out pops a fairy tale. The FrogÂ
Prince? A [dashing prince] is [cursed] by an [evil  witch] to become a [friendly talking animal]Â
until he is saved by a [beautiful princess].  It’s pretty telling that most of theseÂ
stories don’t even bother to name any of the  characters - the role they fill matters a lotÂ
more than their actual individual character. But despite how basic these archetypes are,Â
the stories they slot into can still be really  interesting - and while most of us have a passingÂ
knowledge of the big names like Red Riding Hood,  Hansel and Gretel, and anything Disney everÂ
monetized, there’s a lot of really neat stuff  out there that doesn’t get the same kind ofÂ
press. So today let’s talk about a bite-sized  Norwegian fairy tale with dashing princes,Â
heroic peasants, and at least one dragon. Our story begins with a [benevolent king andÂ
queen] who are regrettably also pulling duty as a  [tragically childless couple]. The Queen is prettyÂ
bummed about that whole situation, and is out for  a walk sublimating her feelings about it when sheÂ
stumbles on a [mysterious old woman] who happens  to be a [witch]. The lady asks her what’s wrongÂ
and when the queen fills her in on the No Kids,  Cradle Empty situation, she gives her some crypticÂ
advice, telling the queen to take a two-handled  jug and put it upside down in the corner ofÂ
her garden overnight. The next morning, two  roses will have grown under it, one red and oneÂ
white - the queen should choose one rose to eat,  red if she wants a son, white for a daughter,Â
but under no circumstances should she eat both.  The queen heads home and takes her advice, notÂ
really expecting all that much, but the next day  she finds that, surprisingly, the witch was rightÂ
on the money and the roses have really grown! She agonizes for a bit over which one toÂ
eat, reasoning that a son might eventually  need to go off to war but a daughter willÂ
have to marry some foreign lord and either  way she’ll lose the kid someday. Jeez, way toÂ
be a downer about this Magical Baby situation.  Anyway, after a few minutes of dithering sheÂ
settles on the white one, but the rose turns  out to be super delicious and nutritious soÂ
she ignores the warning and eats the other  one too. Denying the explicit orders of a witchÂ
in a fairy tale? What could possibly go wrong? Nine months pass, and while the king is outÂ
warring, the queen gives birth to twins - one  healthy baby boy and one lindworm, aka a dragon.Â
Ah, those magical pre-ultrasound days where every  pregnancy was a surprise. Anyway, the lindwormÂ
skedaddles outta there real quick and the queen’s  like “Welp. Hope that was a hallucination.”Â
and just… doesn’t bring it up ever. Neato. So years pass and the [dashing prince] grows toÂ
be a very fine young man, and eventually he’s sent  off to find a suitably [beautiful princess] to beÂ
his bride. But when he tries to leave the kingdom,  the road is blocked by a massive lindworm thatÂ
tells him “A bride for me before a bride for you!” The prince heads back, thoroughly confused,Â
and the queen confesses that the lindworm is  actually right on the money - technically heÂ
was born first, making him the older brother,  so he kind of has to get married first.
So the king starts contacting far-off  kingdoms to ask for a bride for his son - thoughÂ
he doesn’t say which son - and when the requisite  [beautiful princess] arrives, a lavish weddingÂ
is held and she’s married off to the Lindworm,  who promptly eats her. The Lindworm still demandsÂ
a bride, since evidently devouring the bride  on the wedding night means the wedding doesn’tÂ
count, so the king writes to a different kingdom,  gets a second [beautiful princess] shippedÂ
over, and the exact same thing happens. Now never let it be said that these [benevolentÂ
royals] can’t learn from their mistakes. The  king’s not too eager to make an enemy of a thirdÂ
kingdom, so instead he goes to his royal shepherd  and tells him his beloved and convenientlyÂ
expendable daughter is going to marry the  lindworm whether she wants to or not. It’s alwaysÂ
so lovely to see a ruler who really goes the extra  mile to connect to his people like that.
Now the [heroic peasant girl] obviously  doesn’t want to get eaten, so she does whatÂ
any self-respecting protagonist would - she  goes for a walk in the spooky woods lamenting herÂ
doom until a [mysterious old woman] who happens  to be a [witch] pops out of the woodworkÂ
to ask her what’s wrong. The shepherdess  fills her in on the situation and the witchÂ
gives her some very specific instructions  on how she can survive her wedding night.
The wedding day arrives, lavish party, beautiful  bride, commendably scaly groom, etcetera etceteraÂ
- but that night, following the witch’s advice,  the shepherdess has the castle staff bringÂ
her a few things. She layers on ten dresses,  preps two basins of lye and milk, and getsÂ
ready for some fairy tale shenanigans. When the Lindworm tells her to ditch the dress,Â
she tells him to lose a skin. He’s a bit thrown by  this request, but agrees - but after he sheds theÂ
skin, surprise, she’s got another dress on! Guess  you’d better lose another skin if you want a pieceÂ
of this! They repeat the process several times,  and by the time the shepherdess is down to herÂ
last dress, the lindworm is in pretty rough  shape. This is when the plan enters phase two.Â
Following the witch’s instructions to the letter,  the shepherdess grabs a whip, which IÂ
guess the castle staff just assumed was  for totally kosher bedroom fun times, dipsÂ
it in the lye and whacks the lindworm with  it. Then she dumps the milk over him, and thenÂ
- possibly most surprisingly - she hugs him. The next day the staff are shocked to discoverÂ
that the shepherdess is not only alive, but  cuddling up to a very handsome [dashing prince].Â
With the lindworm officially freed from his cursed  existence by being quite literally whipped intoÂ
shape, the kingdom is overjoyed and the wedding is  held all over again, this time with feeling. TheÂ
prince and the shepherdess are happily married for  real this time and everyone lives happily everÂ
after except for those two princesses who got  totally murdered. Sorry ladies, but someone’sÂ
gotta pay the price for the rule of three! [Bring Me To Life - Evanescence]
I'd pay good money to hear Red sing the entirety of "Wake Me Up". The second voice is hilarious XD
Gotta say, story way ahead of it's time. Wedding night BDSM and a (possibly) trans dragon, spicy folklore right there.
Ah, that made me nostalgic for The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
Though also, does anyone else get strong metaphoric vibes from this one, especially the way she transformed him into a human?
I’ve been waiting weeks for this episode since Red tweeted about using Bring Me To Life and it did NOT disappoint.
Since he’s older, he gets to be king next too, lol. Theoretically though, should he not be a girl, cause white rose and such?
Maybe she has a vore fetish?
I love the stuff on fables and folktales I've always had a fascination with them
trans dragon trans dragon trans dragon trans dragon trans dragon trans dragon trans dragon
Why are people saying the dragon is trans? We only know that the red=boy white=girl applies to eating a single rose, there's no reason to say that eating both would result in twins of male and female children.