The Tale of the Knitting Prince
A Fairy-tale
by Jaden Sebastian Blackthorne
Chapter the First
Wherein the Caspavus Royal Family is introduced
and a young prince gains a new nickname
So you would like to hear a story, would you? And a fairy tale? With noble heroes, beautiful maidens, ferocious creatures, sorcery, and all those things? I might have just the tale for you. It is called "The Knitting Prince." Now, I can hear all of you saying “A prince who knits? What is so interesting about a knitting prince?” Well, you will just have to wait and see, won't you? Since this is a fairy tale, one must remember that nothing is what they seem, magic is around every corner, and even the most unexpected things, like a pair of knitting needles, can mark the beginning of a great and wondrous journey.
This tale began once upon a time, as all tales of this sort should begin, in a place beyond the sun and the moon and all the stars that shine in the sky. In that place beyond even your own imagination was a kingdom by the name of Caspavus. Now this kingdom, as are all kingdoms, was ruled by a good and kind king and queen. King Ealnor Mehelio Caspavus XXVIII and Queen Airabella were wise and just, and governed the people of Caspavus with fairness and equality, and were loved by all.
Also within the Caspavus Royal Family were three princes. The first and eldest was Prince Adolphus, who was respected as the strongest warrior in the land. No one could come against Prince Adolphus and not leave without at least a few new scars, and the times when he had lead the King's army to victory in battle were too many to number. He was also the first in line for the throne of Caspavus, and many had been heard to say that Adolphus might be just as great a king as King Ealnor himself, if not better.
Second in line was Prince Edric, who was prized for his formidable wit and intelligence. He served as his father's personal advisor, and there was rarely an argument that he did not win. He also aided his elder brother as the army tactician, whose strategies and brilliant tactics in the face of crisis had saved many, many lives, including that of his brother. Everyone always spoke of how wonderful the relationship between Adolphus and Edric was, with Adolphus fighting the fights and leading the army and Edric laying the plans and plotting the strategies. Yes, it seemed the relationship between the two princes was perfect.
However, there was a third prince as well.
The youngest amongst the three brothers was Prince Lucian, who was kind and sweet and noble and just. However, he unfortunately did not have any astounding features to set him apart from his brothers. When it came to combat and other physical things, Prince Lucian, who had always had a weak constitution, always fell short. As for his studies and classes, he was always only above average. In all respects, save for his kind and generous personality, Prince Lucian was painfully dull. Nevertheless, for as average a prince he was, Prince Lucian did excel at one thing.
He was very skilled at knitting. The beginning of this tale took place many years ago, before Adolphus was made the Commander of the Royal Army, before Edric was made King Ealnor's personal advisor, and when Lucian was still but a child.
Prince Lucian, ever since the day he was born, was always very close to his mother, Queen Airabella. Queen Airabella, in turn, taught her son many things. The names of flowers, how to catch butterflies, how to make up stories, but the most wonderful thing that Prince Lucian had ever seen his mother do was to take two wooden sticks and a length of spun wool and weave fabric out of them. His mother called this task “knitting,” and for Prince Lucian, who was always fascinated by how his mother's hands looked while she was creating many wonderful things out of these rather commonplace objects, was very eager to learn.
“Lucian,” his mother said one day after telling a grand story to the young prince involving wizards and dragons and fairies, “You have asked me constantly how to teach you to knit, have you not?” The Queen looked over to her basket of wools and sticks, and her young son, who was seated upon her lap, followed her gaze with much excitement.
“Yes, mother,” Prince Lucian, who was only scarcely out of the nursery at the time, desperately tried to hide his excitement, but with little success. “I ask you every time I can.” The young prince's face beamed as he recalled all the times he had watched his mother create dolls and clothes and blankets from what he thought were nothing more than twigs and sheep fur. He found the whole thing very magical, and wished so much that he could do it as well.
The queen smiled, kissed the top of her son's head, his golden hair smelling of the sun and grass and wildflowers, and picked him to set him on the floor.. As she crossed the room, Prince Lucian was trying as hard as he could to not jump up and down with glee as she pulled two wooden sticks and a ball of white spun wool from her basket. However, when she handed those items to the little prince with a smile, Lucian nearly knocked his mother to the ground as he embraced her. Queen Airabella simply laughed and held her boy close before getting up with him in tow and placing him upon her bed. When they were both seated, she reached for her own supplies and held them up to show the prince.
“Now, Lucian,” she began, holding up a ball of spun wool for the prince to see, “This is a ball of yarn. Yarn is made when the farmers cut the wool off their sheep. That wool is spun into string like this.” Prince Lucian looked at his own pure white ball of yarn, and wondered how this magical process where sheep's wool was turned into something like this took place. Next, Queen Airabella held up her own pair of wooden sticks. Prince Lucian imitated her as she went on with a smile. “These are called knitting needles, Lucian. They are used to weave the yarn into many things.” Lucian's excitement was growing by the minute, and he was very eager to see how the yarn and knitting needles came together to form clothing and dolls and such things.
“Mother,” Prince Lucian interrupted, barely masking the eager wonder upon his face, “How do you use these objects to make so many things? The queen laughed gently at her son's curiosity and over-excited willingness to learn.
“I will teach you that now, Lucian.” As soon as those words left her lips, Queen Airabella was once again assaulted by a hug from Lucian. The queen smiled down at her son and held the end of the yarn in her hands, making a knot with a loop in it. Prince Lucian mimicked her movements with some difficulty, but with some help from his mother, was able to finally do it. After they had both placed the loops on the yarn on their knitting needles, Queen Airabella began fluidly adding loops she called “stitches” onto her needle. After helping Lucian along with his work, the Queen and Lucian set their work aside and Queen Airabella continued her explanation. “What we had just done, Lucian, is called casting on.” Lucian looked a little confused, but the patient queen was only too happy to explain. “The stitches we put on our needles are the basework for all knitting.” Prince Lucian nodded to indicate that he understood, and the queen continued on. “Now, Lucian,” she said quietly as she leaned toward Lucian with a conspiratorial wink, “I shall teach you how to stitch.”
After that, Lucian was a very quick learner, and Queen Airabella patiently taught him all she knew. He learned how to perform the knit stitch, and noted that it looked like a V. He also learned the purl stitch, which looked like a bump, or pearl. He also realized, with glee, that the purl stitch was simply a knit stitch when viewed from the reverse, and vice-versa. Queen Airabella watched with pride as her son picked up every new bit of information with the seriousness of a student, and the glee of a child at play. The lesson went on till night, and Prince Lucian learned all that the queen could possibly teach him.
After that first lesson, Prince Lucian spent his afternoons in his mother's room after his classes had finished. Together, the queen and the prince made multitudes of knitted things. Hats, coats, mufflers, scarves, a whole army of dolls, the young prince's desire to knit was insatiable, and his mother thrilled at every new object that Prince Lucian created. Even his father, King Ealnor, was proud of the new talent for knitting that his young son displayed, and was only too eager to receive gifts of dolls and scarves and things from Prince Lucian when he had finished making them The only two who were not impressed by Prince Lucian and his talent for knitting were his elder brothers, Prince Adolphus and Prince Edric.
It was on a bright day in the midst of spring, and Prince Lucian was enjoying his time before fencing lessons by sitting in his mother's favorite flower garden, working on a new knitted dragon. The other princes, Adolphus and Edric happened to be passing through the courtyard on their way to the training grounds and the library, respectively, when they espied their younger brother knitting by himself on a stone bench amidst a large cluster of roses, daffodils, daisys and snapdragons. Adolphus and Edric exchanged glances, smirked and walked over to Lucian, sitting on either side of him on the stone bench.
“Well, well, well,” Adolphus wore a sarcastic smile as he looked down at his younger brother and the dragon in his hands. “If it isn't our dear brother, Prince Knittsalot. Look, Edric! He's knitting again today, isn't he?”
“Why yes he is, Adolphus,” Edric tried to hold back a condescending laugh as he snatched the knitted dragon from Lucian's hands, holding it just out of his reach. “Such a diligent boy, isn't he? Our dear Prince Knittsalot!”
“W-why are you teasing me, brothers...?” Lucian was already close to tears trying his hardest to reach as high as he could and grab his unfinished dragon out of Edric's hands. “I have not done anything to you, have I?” Prince Lucian sniffled a little and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, never stopping his efforts in trying to retrieve his prize.
“Hahah! Look at this, brother Edric!” Adolphus got up and took the dragon from Edric's hands, holding it even higher up in the air and watching with satisfaction as his younger brother tried to jump and leap up to take it back. “Is this so important to you, Prince Knittsalot?” Adolphus smiled scornfully at his little brother as he tossed the dragon to Edric.
“My, my, Adolphus,” Edric stood and caught the dragon and stood on the bench, teasing his brother by waving it in his face, only to pull it back into the air a moment later. “It appears that our young Prince Knittsalot is crying. Perhaps we should stop teasing him...?” It was then that Edric noticed Prince Lucian trying to climb onto the bench. Edric sneered and shoved him off with his foot. Lucian fell backward onto the ground, the grass and dirt staining his clothes. His tears were unrelenting now.
“Why...why are you c-calling me P-prince Knittsalot...?” The poor young princeling only managed to choke these words out between sobs, but his brothers' teasing did not end as his tears started. In fact, it seemed as if the tears streaming from poor young Lucian's eyes seemed to spur them on in their taunting of the poor young boy.
“Well, is that not obvious, Prince Knittsalot?” Adolphus laughed as he joined his brother atop the bench.
“It is because you knit,” Prince Edric smirked as he tossed the dragon to his elder brother
“You also do it a lot,” Prince Adolphus added with a devious grin as he caught the now quite rumpled knitted dragon in both hands.
“Hence...KNITTSALOT!” The brothers' chorused teasingly in unison. Just then, King Ealnor and Queen Airabella, having heard Prince Lucian's cries, had come to see what was the matter. Hearing their mother and father's voices, Prince Edric and Prince Adolphus, fearing a punishment, tossed the dragon into the mud and ran off.
Moments later, the King and Queen arrived at the gardens just in time to see Prince Lucian covered in mud and dirt and weeping uncontrollably over his now tattered and filthy dragon. King Ealnor helped him to his feet and picked the discarded dragon up, carrying them both to the stone bench where Prince Lucian's mother awaited him. He climbed onto her lap and sobbed openly against her chest as his father sat next to them both, the dragon still in his hands. The king asked him to explain what had happened, and Lucian told him everything about his brother's teasing and abuse, as well as the unwanted nickname they had so graciously bestowed upon him.
“Well,” his father began as a gentle smile crept over his mouth, “you certainly do knit a lot, my little prince.” The prince looked at his father and returned his smile, trying to dry his eyes. However, when Lucian looked at the ruined dragon in his father's hands, the tears sprung forth anew. His father tenderly stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head reassuringly. “My dear Lucian, there will always be more dragons.”
“Yes,” Queen Airabella agreed. “You can always create something over again, my son.” The gentle queen held her son close and closed her eyes, resting her chin on top of his head. “Do not fret over your brothers' teasing either, Lucian,” she remarked with a quiet little chuckle, “they just don't understand you, or how wonderful you are.”
“They are also probably just jealous of your talent,” his father added with a laugh, “my dear little Prince Knittsalot.” Strange, Prince Lucian thought to himself, how the nickname that had brought him to tears only moments ago sounded so wonderful coming from his father.
“Indeed,” his mother replied, smiling ever so tenderly. “You know you make your father and I so proud with everything you do, my darling Prince Knittsalot, so never stop doing what you enjoy.” His mother sighed a little and smiled gently, kissing his cheek. “Your father and I will always support you.” The little prince nodded and returned his parents' smile. Perhaps the nickname his brothers gave him was not so bad, after all. It suited him somehow.
Henceforth, after that day, the castle guards, cooks, servants, and even his parents took to calling little Lucian by his silly and wonderful nickname. That is how this fantastical story begins.
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