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Once upon a time there was a wise yet gruff king who had seven beautiful children. When a terrible evil threatened his land and people, King Nicholas went to fight, leaving his Queen and children behind. When the evil army grew closer to the castle, Queen Maria bundled the children with provisions and sent them through the secret tunnels that lead to the dark woods.
“You must protect them, Steven. When our flag yet again waves, you know it to be safe to return.” She then kissed her eldest on the forehead, tied a short sword to his waist, and pressed her insignia ring into his palm. He looked down to see how the jeweled dark bird on a snow-white field caught the light from the sconces. He nodded his head to acknowledge that he understood. As the door closed to the damp tunnel, he saw her draw her own sword to defend their passage with her life.
A day later when the seven of them emerged out of a tree trunk near the edge of the forest, Steven looked back with his father’s copper telescope. He saw the only home he and his siblings had ever known completely destroyed--nothing but piles of rubble next to charred bodies smoldering.
“Let me see, Stevie!” His next younger brother, Anthony, tried to snatch the piece from his hands, but Steven held it out of his reach.
“No, Anthony. It’s almost nightfall. We need to find a place to sleep and make a fire.” The thirteen-year-old prince collapsed the telescope and tried to hide his worry from his younger brothers and sister.
-
Five years had passed since that day, and the siblings had remained hidden in the dark woods, taking care of each other and ever hopeful that their family’s flag would rise again. Every morning, Steven would go alone to survey the land where the castle had stood. He had not told them of the devastation he had seen the first night.
The siblings had paired off, the older ones taking care of the younger, so that no one, other than Steven, was ever alone in the dangerous woods.
Anthony, now 17, had taken Bruce, 10, under his wing. They designed great traps for the game in the forest and kept the family in meat.
Philip, 16, looked after Clinton, who had just turned 8. They could always find the best berries, nuts, and mushrooms of the forest.
Natasha, 15, always kept the youngest never more than an arm’s length away from her, and although James was now 6, everybody still doted on him as if he were a baby. She had taught him how to move through the woods without making a sound as they fetched water from the brook.
But each of them had a special bond with the eldest brother who had been like a father ever since they had fled the castle. He had taken his mother’s command to protect them seriously-- fending off wolves and forgoing eating when food was scarce. He also wanted to protect them from the sadness that filled his heart; each night he would recount a happy tale their father had told and sang a soothing lullaby their mother had sung.
One morning as Steven was gathering wood for their fire, he heard Bruce’s shouts. Steven dropped the bundle from his arms and started running in the direction of the yelling.
“THAT IS OUR DOE. IT IS IN MY TRAP, YOU THEIF!”
Steven could see through to the clearing all of his siblings facing down a crouching man in a dark emerald green cloak. Steven unsheathed his short sword as he drew near, holding it behind him as he continued to run.
“And if you no longer preferred venison? Perhaps you would enjoy a diet more focused on tadpoles?” The cloaked man’s voice made Steven’s skin crawl, and before he could reach the clearing, he saw the man cast a golden powder. Each of the six children transformed into swans instantly, and the man began to laugh. Steven had finally reached the scene, but the sight up-close caused him to fall to his knees, his sword dropping to the forest floor.
“Well,” the man mocked, “aren’t you a gallant knight? But it appears as if you are too late. You know what they say about late knights—they are early mourning.” The man pitched his head back with a terrible cackle, but his face remained hidden by the hood of his cloak.
“Change them back!” Steven commanded.
“No.”
“Please, change them back,” he tried again, his voice more desperate and strained as he tried not to cry.
“I cannot. However you can-- if you are diligent enough, if you are quick enough, and most importantly if you are clever enough.”
“What must I do? I’ll do it; my siblings are more precious to me than my own life.”
“You must make them each a shirt of a fiber--
as bright as lightning,
as strong as ore
as soft as summer’s rain
whose roots will ever give you more.”
Steven shook his head as he tried to think of a material that fit that description but could not.
“I don’t…”
“Because I am kind, you have ten years to break the spell.”
“But I…”
“Because I am cruel, you must not speak or laugh during this time. If you fail to make the shirts in time or utter one syllable, have one little chuckle, it will all be for naught. They will simply disappear into nothingness, both their bodies and souls.” With that warning, the man snapped his fingers and disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke.
Steven sat back on his heels as his whole body then slumped in despair. He covered his mouth with his hand, afraid to let his sobs escape as fat tears ran down his face. The littlest swan, all gray fuzz with a black beak, waddled from under the wing of the most beautiful swan to Steven’s knee. His sorrowful cry broke the silence and was soon accompanied by the honks of his fellow swan siblings as they crowded around their older brother.
-
It had taken only a few days before Steve could easily see his siblings' personalities and mannerisms coming through the feathers and beaks. They followed him over mountains, through raging rivers, and always slept by his side. Throughout the days, Steven never uttered a sound. After three years had passed, Steven had ventured throughout the lands trying to find the fiber the cloaked man spoke of.
Steven worried more with each day he didn’t find the fiber as James seemed to have forgotten that he was once human, no longer recognizing or following his eldest brother. Now Clinton seemed to be slipping away more and more, just the same. One day, the two of them waddled off in the early morning before any of the others awoke. Steven started after the path their webbed feet had made when he came upon a large man in a scarlet cloak holding the two tiny swans in his arm.
“Halt, who goes there?” Then the man softly gasped when he saw Steven’s fair face, and his desire for the smaller man was apparent in his eyes although Steven did not see it as he was focused on his siblings. “I am King Thor of Asgard, why do you trespass on my land?”
Steven pointed to the two birds.
“It is a crime to kill game in my woods without my permission.”
Steven violently shook his head. He again pointed at the signets and then covered his heart with both of his hands, softening his face.
“You cannot speak?”
Steven nodded and again pointed to the birds and back to his chest. He clasped his hands together, silently begging for the other to understand. King Thor saw and recognized the royal insignia but thought better than to reveal his insight.
“I’m sorry, but I like these swans and have already decided these two must live in my castle with me….” Now all of the other swan siblings came from behind a rotting log, ready to attack to get the two youngest back. Steven drew his sword, prepared to fight.
“And you,” the king smiled amusedly, “must live in my castle with me as well.” Steven lowered his weapon in confusion, and finally looking into Thor’s eyes, felt an instant connection unlike any he had known before. “My court is in need of one such as you.” Thor put the small birds in Steven’s hands, grabbed him by the waist, and then effortlessly placed him on his horse. Before Steven realized what had happened, Thor was seated behind him and took the reins.
“For now, I will call you Little One,” Thor whispered into Steve’s ear as he held him tightly against his chest. Steven blushed at the intimate embrace, but relaxed into the warmth of the other man as the horse started galloping. Steven couldn’t see over Thor, but he heard his brothers and sister honking and knew they were following behind.
When they reached the castle, they were greeted by a thin pale man with dark features. The King dismounted and pulled the hood of his scarlet cloak back, revealing his long golden hair half tied in intricate braids.
“Brother Loki! How good it is to see you. I have found in my woods exactly what I have desired.” Thor patted the man on the back, and Loki stared down Steven still sitting on the stead.
“Yes, I can see he makes a fine Fool. Tell us a joke.” Loki’s gaze turned cruel and he smirked in a slight challenge.
“You misunderstand, Brother.” Thor took Steven’s hand to display the ring.
“My King, bringing him into your court would be your kindest deed yet, quite the noble jester.” Loki cackled, and Steven tensed with the realization that this was his tormentor with the green cloak.
“Oh Loki, why would my court ever need a Fool when I have you?” Thor rolled his eyes and helped Steven dismount. He guided him towards the castle and then called back to his brother. “Put away my stead; I know you enjoy time with such company,” he barbed.
-
For a month, the King had Steven sit by his side in court and during feasts. Thor was impressed but not surprised at how well his Little One conducted himself, listening attentively when Thor recounted his adventures, smiling when people spoke in jest, and naturally, never gossiping with the other courtiers. One night, the King went to the reflecting pool in the side yard of the castle where Steven would spend his time when not in court.
Steven was crouched, casting greens and bread from the kitchens onto the water as his collection of swans swam and ate. Thor was sure that the birds’ loyalty to his guest was due to the man’s kind heart and pure soul. Watching the scene for a few moments from a distance, Thor became more resolved in his decision.
“Little One,” he called and moved closer to the other man. Steven wiped at his cheeks and looked up, smiling softly at the king. The month living in the castle gave Steven many opportunities to see how just, agile, and wise King Thor was even though he trusted others too easily. Steven realized his true feelings for King Thor and thought his inability to express them a fitting punishment for dividing his attention away from his siblings.
“When I first met you,” Thor placed his hand on Steve’s back, guiding him to walk around the water’s edge. “I was taken with the beauty of your face, but I was more impressed with your bravery-- willing to fight me for the little birds you so clearly love. You have been by my side for this past month, and you have proven yourself as a noble as your ring signifies. I know that I love you, Little One, do you feel the same for me?”
Steven nodded although he could not bear to look the other in the eyes, ashamed to feel such things while his siblings remained cursed.
“Then we will be married in three days’ time.” Thor beamed and pulled Steven in closer, sharing their first kiss. Steven reached up, grasping to touch Thor and ground himself as he felt his heart beat faster and faster. He clutched Thor’s soft hair, pulling slightly as they continued kissing. Thor gave a low moan that reminded Steven of rolling thunder, and suddenly the solution to Loki’s riddle was evident to the smaller man.
In his shock he pulled back, accidentally taking a few strands of hair with him. He looked up, worried and with apologetic eyes. King Thor merely chuckled and kissed Steven’s cheek.
“Do not worry yourself; I hope my passion will overwhelm you very often indeed.”
-
Prince Loki had expressed his displeasure at the proposed union, demanding that the King choose between Steven and himself. With an obviously heavy heart, Thor sent his brother to his fortress at the northern border of the kingdom. After the week-long wedding feast, he sent word that Loki was welcome to return whenever he would like as long as he acknowledged the Prince Consort, but the King did not receive a response.
The first year of their marriage seemed to slip by quickly. King Thor kept his Little One near him in court, and would seek his sound opinion on important matters, Steven nodding or shaking his head at the proposed plans voiced. Steven’s more cautious temperament was an excellent balance to Thor’s slightly impetuous nature, and the kingdom flourished.
Each night in their bedchamber, Steven would undo the King’s royal braids and brush his hair. Each morning, after plaiting the golden locks again, Steven would carefully harvest the strands from the ivory handled brush and keep them in a mahogany box. It took the entire year to gather enough to begin work on the shirt for Anthony.
Steven twisted the strands until they locked together in a single long thread, and then by the swans’ pool with the light of the moon, he weaved a delicate lace with a silver needle. He kept his activity secret from his King since he would have no way to explain such an odd pursuit.
As the years went on, Steven continued his task of harvesting the strands in the morning, tending to both his husband and his cygnine siblings during the day, then tatting during the night. Although exhausted, he was hopeful that he could bring back those he loved if he just kept going. To his distress, day by day, the swans lost more and more of their human personalities; the youngest first until by the time Steven had finished the fifth shirt, only Anthony treated him as a brother.
-
It was during this last year of the curse that Loki returned to the castle, repentant of his actions years before. While Steven was pleased to see his husband so happy, he felt uneasy with the way Loki would look at him when Thor was not looking.
As the deadline loomed, Steven pushed himself harder to finish the last lace shirt for his youngest brother. One night, he fell asleep next to the reflecting pool before returning to his marital bed. When he woke, the rising sun signified he had missed their morning routine. He ran to their bedchamber to find Loki talking to Thor whose face was red with anger.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, Brother,” Loki comforted. Thor saw Steven enter the room and rushed towards him. Thor gripped his shoulders hard, but Steven only looked at him in confusion.
“He leaves your bed every night for others and sneaks back before you wake. Last night he was moaning and screaming so loudly it woke me from my slumbers,” Loki said.
Steven shook his head in protest, tears forming in his eyes. He reached for his husband, but Thor pushed him away.
“Then where were you, Prince Consort? What were you doing when not in your King’s bed?” Loki asked.
Steven looked down, unsure of how to attempt to explain his nightly activity.
“Of course, now he is silent, but when I needed sleep he’s louder than a cat in hea…” Loki scoffed.
“ENOUGH!” Thor pulled the bell for his guards. They arrived to the room in moments.
“Take him to the dungeons.” Thor pointed at the love of his life, and Loki scowled.
“Brother, the punishment for adultery against the king is immediate death.”
“I am still THE KING!” he roared. “It is my decision. Guards, take him to the dungeon. Loki, leave me to my thoughts.”
-
Later that week, Loki trotted down to the dungeons, smirking like the Devil himself. He rasped on metal bars, and hissed at Steven who was looking through the small window.
“This is even better than I imagined. The gallant knight won’t save the brats, and after coming so close!” Loki cackled more. “You sacrificed so much and all for naught! You couldn’t even tell your husband of your love for him, never cry out his name in a moment of true passion.
“My idiot brother is so heartbroken and distraught at having to execute you tomorrow. It will be no trouble at all to make his murder look like a suicide.”
Steven turned to face his tormentor, the anger in his eyes so intense that Loki recoiled back. But when Steven remained mute, Loki’s smile returned.
“I wonder if you even can remember how to speak; you would save yourself and the man you love. Just say the word and I’ll go fetch him now; you can tell him everything,” Loki taunted. Again, Steven did not reply back, and Loki left, not noticing the group of swans waddling past the dungeon’s window.
-
The dark sky was turning rosy as the sun would soon rise over the east hills. A calm Steven was tied to the stake at his waist as other guards placed the bundles of straw and wood at his feet. Thor, with Loki and few of the courtiers, looked on as the execution was about to begin. The King’s heart was breaking that his husband had betrayed him in such a way, but as Thor had thought on it throughout the week, it had seemed more and more unlikely and out of character for his beloved.
He kept thinking on it, and just as Thor was about to call for the guard with the torch to stay his hand, a loud chorus of honking caused everyone to turn. The six swans flew to Steven, and as they neared trying to bite at his bindings, he reached into his shirt for the small lace swan shirts he had worked on for so long. As they were close, he threw a shirt over each of their heads.
As soon as the shirts touched them their swan-skins fell off, and his brothers and sister stood before the pyre in their own bodies, just as they were before the spell-- young and beautiful. The sun just was breaking over the horizon; Steven had broken the curse for the most part. With sadness, he saw how because he had not been able to finish James’ shirt due to his imprisonment, and the young boy was now missing his left arm.
Everyone, except for Loki, was amazed by the magic that had just happened before their eyes. The King’s brother was instead livid that his plan had failed. He cursed at Steven and pulled out his dagger.
“You, Little One, will not ruin my plans to be King!” Steven saw the blade and for the first time in a decade, had no hesitation is using his voice.
“THOR!”
The King was so taken with the smooth baritone voice of his husband, he dropped to his knees in awe. Loki thrust his dagger toward his brother at the exact same moment, and when his target was suddenly gone, lost his balance and fell on to his own blade. Loki made a small gurgling noise then was no longer breathing.
Thor realized his folly in trusting his brother and called for the guards to release his husband. However, the call was too late as Steven’s siblings had already untied him and moved down from the stake. The King ran to his husband, embraced him, and frantically started kissing his face.
“Forgive me. Forgive me, Little One. I was wrong to doubt you. Please. Please forgive me.” Steven was nodding his head, but before he could speak his siblings started crowding around them.
“Little One? That doesn’t make any sense, he’s tall!” James said to Thor.
“He’s the best at fighting wolves!” Clinton said.
“He tells the best stories!” Bruce said.
“He sings like an angel,” Natasha said.
“His name is Steven,” Philip said.
“But you call him Stevie when you want him to do something for you,” Anthony said.
Steven tried to hide his face in his hands, overwhelmed with joy at his siblings being themselves again and also mortified at—well, his siblings being themselves again. Thor took his hands into his and kissed Steven on the lips.
“I love you, Steven,” the King whispered.
“I love you, Thor,” his Prince replied.
The entire group was pleased as they made their way back to the castle where King Thor called for a glorious welcome feast for his new brothers and sister. He insisted that they stay in the castle, joining his court.
They did, and all lived happily ever after.