The Faerie Bridegroom
Once, when the road between the mortal world and Faerie was still clear, there lived a miller’s daughter. Although she rarely spoke, her eyes flickered with a wicked intelligence that her father did not catch.
However, the local Faerie lord did catch the look, and he liked it. Which would have been well and good, if the miller’s daughter felt the same. Yet, she did not.
This was not enough to deter the Faerie lord, who asked the girl’s father for her hand. The miller happily agreed. Perhaps you will grow to like him, her father insisted. But anytime the Faerie lord looked at her, the miller’s daughter felt a terrible dread in her belly.
Soon, the Faerie lord invited the miller’s daughter to visit his castle in the forest. She demurred, but the Faerie lord merely laughed and told her he would mark her path in ash.
At midday, the miller’s daughter left her father’s home for the Faerie lord’s castle. Ash marked her path, as promised, but she took time to mark the trees as she passed as well. Finally, she came upon the castle, tucked into the shadows of the trees.
No one answered her knock, so she tentatively opened the door. There were no lights and no servants.
The miller’s daughter did not want to brave the darkness, but she could not help descending further into the manor.
A grand staircase rose before her, and she had just enough time to duck beneath it before the Faerie lord barged onto the top landing.
He did not see the miller’s daughter in the shadows, but she could see him and the young woman he dragged behind him.
The girl’s eyes were wide, terrified, but she followed him as he said her true name.
Horrified, the miller’s daughter watched as the Faerie lord commanded the girl to fall onto her hands and knees and to move her hair to the side, exposing the back of her pale neck.
“I have found a new bride to replace you, my dear. But fear not, she will undoubtedly join you soon,” he said.
Then, with a single stroke of his sword, the Faerie lord cut off the young woman’s head. It rolled down the stairs, breaking into a thousand pieces like a pane of glass.
The cross that once graced the young woman’s neck landed at the miller’s daughter’s feet. She dared not move until the Faerie lord was gone, but when she no longer heard his footsteps above, the miller’s daughter scooped up the bloody necklace and ran out into the night.
The ash marks were gone, blown away by the wind or smudged out by animals, but the miller’s daughter followed her own marks on the trees until she was back home.
She told her father everything. At first, he was skeptical, but he finally believed her when she produced her proof.
The next day, when the Faerie lord arrived, the girl held out the bloody necklace to him. Color drained from his face before the mortals and their dogs descended on him and tore him to pieces. With the Faerie lord dead, the miller’s daughter lived happily for the rest of her days.
This tale is one of the best known among mortals about Faeries, especially regarding names and power.
Threadneedle insists that the tale is quite different among Faeries, with the miller’s daughter becoming an innocent forest nymph and the Faerie lord becoming a wicked mortal king.
Regardless, the sense of distrust between the two cultures is clear.