Once upon a time, a guy named Thad was sleeping under a tree, trying to avoid his dog. He had only slept for maybe and hour or two when he was rudely awakened by someone standing over him and making many obnoxious throat clearing noises.
He was about to be very mad indeed, but he found that it was not his dog, asking him to do the dishes, after all; it was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
In the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, she told him that if he could guess who she was, she would take him home with her.
“Are you…my mother?” he asked, which was really sort of a silly question, as he knew his mother was home with the dog, probably washing the dishes.
“Are you..Madonna?” he asked.
“Do you speak of the Virgin Mary?”
“No, the singer.”
The lady shook her head.
“Are you…the lady from up the hill?”
“Close enough.”
She pulled Thad up on her horse with her, and they galloped away. As they rode, she explained that she was the Queen of Faerie, and that he was very lucky indeed, since she had chosen him to be her mortal lover.
As they rode, she pointed out three paths: the path to Heaven, the path to Hell, and the path they would ride on, which led to Faerie.
“What’s that path?” Thad asked, pointing to an overgrown road next to the one they had turned down.
“That one leads to Creepy Jim’s house.” the Queen informed him. “I wouldn’t go down that path.”
As they rode, Thad was sure they passed through meadows of guts and jumped over gates made of bone. But the lady held him, and told him he would reside in Faerie with her for but seven years, and as long as he ate nothing, nor spoke not a word, he would return home with the gift of prophecy, and the inability to lie. However, if he did eat or speak, he must remain in Faerie forever.
And so they rode into Faerie, where courtiers and horses greeted them with songs and cheer.
As they stopped, Thad reached into a basket of baked goods offered to him and bit into a cupcake. “Hey guys,” he said. “What’s up?”
The Queen of Faerie began to feel as though she’d made a grave error, indeed.
The End.
Source: Thomas the Rhymer
