Once Upon A Time A Long Time Ago: Young Adult Fairytales Retold Collection

By Avril Sabine

Genre: Fairytales Retold Short Stories.
Word Count: 97,000
***This is a bundled edition of the following stories.***
Snow-White and Rose-Red
The Twelve Brothers
The Light Princess
Beauty And The Beast
Sleeping Beauty
Aschenputtel
The Golden Bird
The Frog Prince
The Death Of Koshchei The Deathless

People have been telling stories since the beginning of time. Fairytales, folklore, myths and legends are among some of the stories that have been told over and over through the centuries. The basic story remains the same, but each storyteller adds their own style, sometimes adding something unique to the tale.
These stories were written by an Australian author using Australian spelling.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cracked Acorn Productions
• Release date: Apr 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781923031050

Avril Sabine

Avril Sabine is an Australian author who lives on acreage in South East Queensland. She writes mostly young adult and children’s speculative fiction, but has been known to dabble in other genres. She has been writing since she was a young child and wanted to be an author the moment she realised someone wrote the books she loved to read.Visit Avril's website to learn more about her and her many books. www.avrilsabine.com

Book preview

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Once Upon A Time A Long Time Ago

Avril Sabine

Cracked Acorn Productions

Once Upon A Time A Long Time Ago

Young Adult Fairytales Retold Collection

Published by

Cracked Acorn Productions

PO Box 1365

Gympie, Queensland 4570

Australia

978-1-923031-05-0 (Ebook)

Genre: Fairytales Retold Short Story

Snow-White and Rose-Red 2014 © Avril Sabine

The Twelve Brothers 2014 © Avril Sabine

The Light Princess 2014 © Avril Sabine

Beauty And The Beast 2014 © Avril Sabine

Sleeping Beauty 2015 © Avril Sabine

Aschenputtel 2015 © Avril Sabine

The Golden Bird 2016 © Avril Sabine

The Frog Prince 2016 © Avril Sabine

The Death Of Koshchei The Deathless 2017 © Avril Sabine

Copyright 2023 © Avril Sabine

Cover design by Cracked Acorn Productions

All rights reserved

Contents

Once Upon A Time A Long Time Ago

Snow-White and Rose-Red Cover

Snow-White and Rose-Red Description

Snow-White and Rose-Red

The Twelve Brothers Cover

The Twelve Brothers Description

The Twelve Brothers

The Light Princess Cover

The Light Princess Description

Name Pronunciation

The Light Princess

Beauty And The Beast Cover

Beauty And The Beast Description

Beauty And The Beast

Sleeping Beauty Cover

Sleeping Beauty Description

Sleeping Beauty

Aschenputtel Cover

Aschenputtel Description

Aschenputtel

The Golden Bird Cover

The Golden Bird Description

The Golden Bird

The Frog Prince Cover

The Frog Prince Description

The Frog Prince

The Death Of Koshchei The Deathless Cover

The Death Of Koshchei The Deathless Description

The Death Of Koshchei The Deathless

Free Ebook

To The Reader

About The Author

Titles By Avril Sabine

Disclaimer

Once Upon A Time A Long Time Ago

This collection includes:

Snow-White and Rose-Red

The Twelve Brothers

The Light Princess

Beauty And The Beast

Sleeping Beauty

Aschenputtel

The Golden Bird

The Frog Prince

The Death Of Koshchei The Deathless

*

People have been telling stories since the beginning of time. Fairytales, folklore, myths and legends are among some of the stories that have been told over and over through the centuries. The basic story remains the same, but each storyteller adds their own style, sometimes adding something unique to the tale.

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Snow-White and Rose-Red Description

Snow-White and Rose-Red live with their widowed mother in a cottage in the middle of a forest. One winter’s night a bear knocks on their door wanting to come in and warm himself at their fire.

*

People have been telling stories since the beginning of time. Fairytales, folklore, myths and legends are among some of the stories that have been told over and over through the centuries. The basic story remains the same, but each storyteller adds their own style, sometimes adding something unique to the tale.

*

This story was written by an Australian author using Australian spelling.

Snow-White and Rose-Red

Snow brushed strands of her pale blond hair back from her face, bending down to pick up another piece of firewood. She added it to the bundle she carried on her back before turning to her younger sister. We should turn for home soon. Tonight will probably bring our first snow for this winter.

Rose groaned. But we haven’t gotten around to digging up all the potatoes from the vegetable patch. Like her sister, her long hair hung down her back in a single plait. She had a shawl draped around her head, hiding most of her red hair from view and also carried a bundle of firewood.

They’ll keep. We’ll dig them up when we need them. Snow again bent for more firewood, the bundle she carried growing heavier and more awkward.

They’re so much harder to dig up once it snows. And I haven’t finished spinning enough wool to knit a new pair of gloves. Rose held out a hand in front of her, the grey gloves worn through in places. They’re beyond darning.

Snow could feel every hole in her own gloves. You’re only annoyed because the weather will keep you inside and there’ll be no more exploring the forest until spring.

Rose grabbed a fallen branch. If only we had the money for warm clothes, then I’d spend all year exploring the forest. She dragged the branch behind her.

The wind picked up and Snow shivered, wishing she too had a shawl, even if it was threadbare like her sister’s. Maybe this year they’d be able to spin enough wool to not only knit new gloves for each of them, but also sell some at the market come spring. To sell enough to afford a length of cloth to make all of them new clothes. Picking up one last piece of firewood, Snow changed directions. Let’s go home. She couldn’t help sighing at the thought of all the work that still awaited them at home.

Rose reached for her sister’s hand. It’s all right, Snow. I don’t really mind winter. Don’t be so sad.

Snow smiled. I was thinking of everything we still have to do when we get home, that’s all.

Rose squeezed Snow’s hand. If you build up the fire and put the brass kettle on to boil, I’ll prepare the vegetables for the stew.

Thank you, Rose. This time it was Snow who squeezed her sister’s hand and Rose who smiled.

They walked home in silence, both shivering by the time they reached the cottage, dropping their firewood in the lean-to at the side of their home. Rose hurried inside, calling a greeting to their mother, Anna. Snow paused at the front door to look at the two rose bushes, one planted on either side of the door.

She reached out and ran a finger down a branch of the one on her left, careful to avoid the thorns. Her mother had planted it seventeen years ago on the day she’d been born, sending her husband to the shepherd’s wife for a cutting from one of her rose bushes. Anna had told her many times over the years that her white blond hair had reminded her of a snow-white rose. When her sister had arrived two years after her, with red hair, her mother had planted the second bush. Its flower was a dark red.

Snow-White, come inside and close the door. You’re letting the cold in, Anna called out.

With one last glance at the darkening sky, Snow hurried inside, closing the door behind her. I think it’ll snow tonight. She crossed the room to the fire. Stirring it up, she added more wood.

Near the fire a motherless lamb rested, while a white dove Snow had rescued the previous year, sat on a perch. There was a table with two chairs, the third wooden chair being used by Anna who sat not far from the fire, her spindle in one hand, a basket of wool on the floor beside her. At one end of the cottage was Anna’s bed, covered by the quilt she’d sewn before she’d left her own mother’s house. At the other end were two narrow beds, each with a quilt Anna had made while she’d been pregnant with her daughters. The quilts covered each bed, the sides brushing against the timber floor, the different coloured pieces long since faded. There was a chest at the foot of Anna’s bed with three more quilts, folded and stored with herbs, for her children who hadn’t lived.

Anna nodded. All the signs point to a hard winter ahead.

Rose sat at the table, dicing vegetables on its scarred wooden surface. As long as it’s not a long winter, I don’t care.

It will be what it needs to be, Rose-Red. Your complaining about it won’t make it any shorter, Anna said.

After checking there was enough water in the brass kettle, Snow hung it on the hook over the fire, her reflection showing in the shiny surface. She turned to Anna. Will you read to us tonight?

Rose pushed the vegetables into a wooden bowl, rising from the table. Please, Mother? You said you’d read us more from father’s book when the days grew shorter. They’ve been short for weeks. She tipped the vegetables into the kettle that was starting to bubble.

For a little while. We haven’t the candles to waste. Anna continued to spin wool.

I’ll get it. Snow hurried towards her mother’s end of the cottage, taking the large book off a shelf, and picking up the spectacles that sat beside it. She cradled the book against her chest as she returned to her mother’s side. The book was all that was left of the father she barely recalled.

After handing the book and spectacles to her mother, Snow bolted the front door and brought the chairs to the fire, while Rose gathered the wool and spindles. Putting aside her own spindle, Anna put on her spectacles and opened the book. She cleared her throat then began to read.

The rhythm of her mother’s voice blended with the rhythm of the spindle and Snow smiled slightly as she listened, her hands continuing to keep the spindle in motion. The wind picked up, causing the shutters to rattle lightly. The sound of the fire crackling and the stew bubbling gently were the only other sounds in the room other than her mother’s voice.

The smell of stew filled the room and Snow continued to put off serving the meal, knowing her mother would stop reading the moment she rose from her seat. A banging at the door, brought Anna’s voice to a halt and the three of them turned towards it.

Who would be crazy enough to be out in this weather? Rose asked.

Whatever poor traveller it is will be half frozen, Anna said. Go see who it is, Rose-Red. Snow-White, our dinner smells like it’s well past ready to be served. Put out a bowl for our visitor too.

Snow put aside her spindle and gathered wooden bowls from the shelf near the fire, setting them on the table while Rose walked towards the door. Taking the metal ladle from the shelf and a wooden spoon for each bowl, Snow put the spoons on the table and grabbing a folded cloth, headed for the fire.

A gust of wind tore through the cottage as Rose opened the door and screamed. Still clutching the ladle and folded cloth, her heart racing, Snow spun to face the door. Her breath stopped in her throat at the sight of the large black bear framed in the doorway, snow swirling around him and settling on the cottage floor.

Anna hurried towards the door as Rose backed away from it. Snow dashed across the room, her shoulder colliding with the far wall since she could not take her gaze from the bear. Calling for her sister, she dropped the ladle as she held out a hand for her.

I mean you no harm. I only want to warm myself at your fire, the bear said.

Rose stopped retreating, Snow remained frozen by her mother’s bed, her hand still outstretched and Anna took another step forward.

Oh you poor bear. Come in, come in. Warm yourself by our fire. Anna gestured towards the fire. The bear ambled inside and she closed the door again, throwing the bolt home. Come girls, no need to be afraid. He means us no harm. Dish out the meal, Snow-White.

Snow came hesitantly forward, picking up the ladle and dusting it off, keeping a wary eye on the bear. She took the kettle from the fire and filled the bowls with stew. Both her and her sister had brought home animals from the forest over the years. Hurt or sick animals in need of care, but never a bear. Never an animal with sharp white teeth that was large enough to eat them.

With trembling hands, she took the bowl of stew to the bear who had laid down in front of the fire. Here. There was a tremble in her voice as she placed the bowl in front of him.

I wish you no harm, Snow-White, the bear rumbled.

Snow took a step back, startled at hearing her name spoken in such a deep voice. I… I hope you enjoy the stew. She could think of nothing else to say. What did you talk about with a bear? The only other words that came to mind were, ‘please don’t eat me,’ and it was a thought she didn’t want to put into his mind if it wasn’t already there.

Thank you for sharing your meal with me. The bear lowered his head and began to lap up the stew.

Snow continued to back away until she collided with her chair that was not far from the fire. Turning, she grabbed the chair and retreated to the table where her sister and mother were already sitting. Adding more water to the kettle from the jug, sitting on a side table near the kitchen shelf, Snow returned it to the fire. She hung it at the side to keep it warm, before she sat at the table.

The meal was silent. Snow and Rose both sending frequent glances towards the bear and sharing equally frequent looks with each other. When the meal was ended, Snow gathered up the dishes and washed them in a bowl of water kept on the side table.

Rose-Red, grab a cloth and mop up the floor around the bear. The snow in his fur is melting and creating puddles, Anna ordered.

Rose sent Snow a pleading look and Snow dried her hands on her skirt. If you want to tip the dishwater outside, I’ll mop the floor. She tried to keep the fear from her voice, but wasn’t certain she had succeeded. Grabbing a worn cloth, she slowly crossed the room. Behind her she felt a gust of wind fill the cottage as her sister tossed out the water. The door closed again, shutting out the wind.

Snow knelt beside the bear, who had finished his meal and had his eyes closed. When she started to mop the floor, he raised his head to stare at her with his dark brown eyes. She fought against the urge to flee. Her hands stilled.

If you knock the snow from my fur I will dry quicker and leave less puddles on the floor.

Snow could only nod. It took an age before she could let go of the cloth and reach out to knock the dusting of snow from his fur. His coat was cold and coarse and after a few minutes, she grew less fearful when he remained still. When the job was done and the floor mopped, Snow spread the cloth out near the fire to dry.

Thank you, Snow-White.

She turned to face the bear, wracking her brain for something to say. Are you warmer now?

Yes, thank you.

Rose sidled closer. You’re very polite for a bear.

Have you met many bears, Rose-Red?

Rose came closer still. No, you’re the first, but I’ve heard stories and none of the bears in the stories were polite like you.

What were they like, Rose-Red?

Snow moved to her sister’s side, wanting to hush her. My sister tends to be a little strange at times.

No I’m not. Rose glared at her sister.

Snow grabbed her sister’s hand and squeezed it not so gently as she tried to think of a way to change the subject. What was her sister thinking? Every story either of them had heard about bears involved them eating people. Do you live around here?

In the direction of the setting sun, on the other side of the forest.

You’ve been all the way to the other side of the forest? Rose stared at him in awe, coming closer. What is it like?

Much the same as the other side of the forest in the direction of the rising sun, the bear said.

You’ve crossed the entire forest? Rose asked.

The bear dipped his head. In all directions.

What did you see? Rose asked.

At the same time, Snow asked, What were you looking for?

The bear turned his gaze on Snow and she could almost have sworn she saw sorrow in his dark eyes. When she thought he might speak to her, he turned to her sister instead.

Many things, Rose-Red. Many things.

Rose inched closer, sitting on the floor, tucking her legs under herself. What sort of things?

Snow sat beside her sister and listened as the bear spoke of icy streams with fat fish, open meadows and busy villages. Ports with ships lined up at docks, merchants calling out the exotic wares they had for sale. Castles surrounded by moats and walls, mountains that towered higher than any tree and dwarves who spent winters underground and summers stealing the treasures of others.

Both girls eventually started to nod off and their mother sent them to bed. Snow curled up under her quilt, her eyes half closed as she watched the bear lying in front of the fire. As if he felt her gaze upon him, he lifted his head and looked in her direction. For a moment he stared her way, before he again put his head on his paws and settled down for the night.

The next morning, the bear was the first to wake and the sound of his claws against the wooden floorboards dragged Snow from sleep. Seeing him waiting at the door, she rose from her bed and unbolted the door to let him out.

When the bear continued to stand there, looking at her, Snow tried to think of something to say to him. Thank you for all your stories last night.

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. Thank you for your hospitality. He bounded outside into the snow-covered forest.

Snow stared after him as he disappeared amongst the trees and she wondered where he planned to go next. Towards the sea? Or maybe the mountains.

Close the door, Snow-White. You’re letting the cold in, Anna called from her bed.

She slowly closed the door and crossed the room to stoke up the fire and shift the kettle into the middle to heat, her mind still full of the stories she’d heard last night. When Rose woke, she couldn’t stop talking about the places the bear had spoken of until eventually Anna told her to hold her tongue.

But they sound like such marvellous places. I really wish I could visit all of them. Rose took the bowl of reheated stew Snow handed her. I want to be able to travel like the bear.

Your life will be how it needs to be, Rose-Red. You complaining will not change it one bit, Anna said.

It will be how I make it, Rose stated.

Not until you’ve done your chores. Now hold your tongue and eat your meal. Anna dipped her spoon into her own bowl, after a warning look at her youngest daughter.

Once they’d finished their meal, fetched water from the well behind their home, done the morning dishes, brought in firewood and tidied the cottage, the girls bundled up to go outside and check traps. Rose continually complained about the cold and how she wished she could travel as far as the bear.

Snow eventually reached for her sister’s hand. If we had the money I’d buy us all warm clothes and you a little pony. Then you could travel miles and miles every day and see all the wonders you can imagine.

Rose grinned. I can imagine a lot of wonders. It would take me years and years to see them all. Would you come with me? I wouldn’t want to go on my own.

Then I’d buy two ponies and we’d never be separated and we’d see everything together.

Rose’s grin faded and she moved closer to her sister, slipping an arm around her waist. I wish… Her voice trailed off, her breath fogging the air in front of her.

By the time they’d finished checking the traps, bringing home only one hare, and gathering more firewood, the sky was darkening. They hurried inside, both going straight to the fire to warm themselves before they prepared dinner. Their mother was already seated by the fire spinning wool.

Once again they talked Anna into another story while their meal cooked. When the scent of the hare stew filled the cottage there came a knock at the door. Both girls looked at each other.

I’ll get it. Rose dashed for the door, flinging it open. You came back.

Snow looked across the room as the bear ambled inside. She tried to think of something to say. Something to tell him that she was glad he’d returned, but nothing sounded right when she tried the words out in her head.

Anna rose to her feet. You’re welcome to stay again, Bear. Make yourself comfortable by the fire.

Thank you, my good woman. The night is cold and more snow is coming. The bear crossed the room and settled himself in front of the fire. This time there was no snow on his fur to make puddles on the floor.

Snow served the meal, placing a bowl in front of the bear. When they’d all eaten, Rose knelt beside the bear, begging for more stories. When he began to speak, Snow joined her sister. As she listened she noticed burrs caught in his fur and started to pull them out, throwing them in the fire. By the time he’d finished his tales the burrs were all gone. Snow rose to her feet so she could retire to bed, like her sister was doing, when the bear spoke to her.

Thank you, Snow-White.

Not knowing what to say, she nodded and retreated to bed. Lying under her quilt she stared at the bear. Like the previous night he raised his head and watched her for a moment before he lowered it to his paws and closed his eyes.

The next few weeks passed in the same way. The bear would arrive at dinner, then after he’d eaten, tell his tales while Anna and her daughters spun wool, leaving early in the morning. Rose would endlessly talk about his tales all day while she worked with Snow then as the night came closer Rose would say over and over again that she hoped the bear would return.

When a snowstorm arrived late one afternoon, Rose worried the bear wouldn’t be able to reach them. Last night he promised he’d tell me about ships tonight. I really, really want to go on a ship. Think how far I could travel on a ship.

Poor Bear, I hope he does find his way here. It’ll be dreadfully cold outside tonight. Snow couldn’t stop sending frequent glances towards the door.

When they heard a knock on the door, both girls rushed towards it. Bear was on the doorstep, coated in snow, and didn’t speak until he was in front of the fire, a puddle forming around him.

I am sorry for the mess.

Snow fetched a cloth and shook the snow from his fur, mopping up the puddles around him. His fur remained damp and he shivered every now and then. Snow built up the fire after she’d removed the meal from it, hoping that would help warm him.

By the time their meal was over and the bear had told stories until the girls and their mother retired to bed, the bear was still shivering. Snow looked across the room at him lying as close as possible to the fire. The motherless lamb was now as far from him as it could get while still enjoying the warmth. Gathering up her quilt, Snow tiptoed across the room. The bear raised his head to look at her. She draped the quilt over him and curled up beside him, pressing her back against his slightly damp fur and tucking herself under the quilt.

Thank you, Snow-White.

Again she was lost for words and wished she could chatter as easily as her sister. Only my mother calls me Snow-White. Everyone else calls me Snow.

Then I thank you, Snow. Your kindness is appreciated.

You’re welcome, Bear. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of him breathing beside her. Eventually his shivers slowed and then stopped and his breathing deepened. Snow snuggled in closer to his warmth and fell asleep.

The bear rising in the morning woke Snow and she quietly rose to her feet and opened the door for him. Where do you go all day, Bear?

Hunting.

Game is growing scarce around here. Our traps have been empty the last two days. Where do you go hunting?

All through the woods. But it is not only food I hunt. I will see you tonight, Snow, and again I thank you for your kindness.

She watched the bear disappear into the woods and quickly shut the door before the cold air woke her family. Being as quiet as possible, she returned her quilt to her bed and built up the fire to heat the food in the kettle.

By the time the food had heated, Rose and Anna were awake and joined Snow at the table to break their fast. Rose chattered about the bear’s tales and complained over how boring it was in their part of the forest.

Snow finally interrupted her sister. How can you say it’s boring?

How can you say it isn’t?

Bear. Every night he entertains you with his stories. Every night he tells us about all the places that we’ll never get to visit except through his tales. Do you find that boring?

Rose shook her head. No, of course not. I just wish I could travel with him.

I know, but at least we have his tales. Snow gathered up the bowls from the table.

Would you come with me if I travelled to far lands? Rose asked.

Snow smiled at her sister. Where would you go? She half listened as Rose spoke of the places she’d visit while they tidied the cottage then brought in more firewood and water. Next they checked their traps and found them empty, collecting firewood on their way back to the cottage, their day passing much like the ones before it.

Once again that evening, the bear returned, but this time he brought with him a large trout and Snow threw her arms around his neck.

Thank you, Bear. We haven’t had fish in ages.

I will pack it in snow and we will have it for dinner tomorrow night, Anna said.

Rose tugged at the bear’s fur. Come and eat so you can tell us more stories.

The bear ambled over to the fire, eating the bowl of stew they gave him before he told stories while they spun wool. When they all grew tired and clambered into their beds, Snow snuggled under her quilt and looked at the bear, alone by the fire. The lamb had finally decided it was safer to sleep near Anna, climbing onto the foot of her bed.

The bear raised his head and looked at Snow. She met his gaze for several minutes before she smiled, gathered her quilt and crossed the room to lay down beside him, throwing the quilt over both of them.

The bear lowered his head. Good night, Snow.

Good night, Bear, she said softly.

They fell into a routine. Every night the bear would arrive with some game for the table. Fish, hare, birds and once even a haunch of venison. Then after the meal he would tell his tales until they retired to bed. Each night Snow joined him by the fire, covering both of them with her quilt. In the morning, while everyone else still slept Snow would let the bear out and watch as he disappeared into the forest. Some nights while she lay curled up beside him, the bear would talk softly to her so as not to wake the others. And every morning as Snow watched the bear leave, she would hope he’d return again that evening.

One morning when the weather was beginning to warm and the snow melt, she stood at the front door where the bear stood, looking silently at her.

Is something wrong, Bear?

All winter the dwarves have been stuck underground and unable to wander the forest stealing and taking what isn’t theirs to their caves. Now the snow is thawing I won’t be back of an evening. I shall miss you and your family.

Snow threw her arms around the bear, burying her face in his fur. When will we see you again?

I do not know, Snow.

Her arms remained wrapped around him. I’ll miss you.

I have to go, Snow. You need to let go.

It took her a moment before she could draw back from him, wiping at her damp cheeks with the backs of her hands. Will you return in the winter?

Maybe. He pressed his snout against her cheek before he turned away, his fur catching on the bolt.

Snow caught a glimpse of gold on the bear and she frowned, drying her eyes to see better. Before she could decide if it was a trick of the light or something else, he had disappeared