//------------------------------//
// What is it Now? The Robber Bridegroom? 
// Story: The Brothers Grimm and Andersen 
// by Cursory Note 
//------------------------------//

	<Alright, it’s time for a story of my collection once again.>

~Wait, wait, wait. You two just did one!~

*So?*

~By all right’s it’s my turn.~

<No, it’s my turn. There are two of us so we should go in sequence.>

~But that’s my point, there are two of you, so I should go in between each of you.~

*Look, Hans, we have collected over two hundred tales, if we want to get through a good portion of them, Jacob and I have to tell more than you.*

<If we trade off, you will run out of stories before we have even told half, if that.>

~...Really? Two hundred tales?~

*The last time I checked.*

<I spent the better part of last week cataloguing them, we have gathered about two hundred and thirty.>

*Two hundred thirty?*

<Give or take a few.>

~I’m not sure whether to feel impressed or completely one-upped.~

<To be fair, you write your own and we merely collect Old Mare’s Tales from across Equestria.>

~I suppose. But how are we going to do this? Will I just wait while the two of you tell three or four in a row?~

*How about it goes Jacob, Hans, I, Jacob, Hans, I, and so on.*

<That sounds alright to me. What do you think, Hans?>

~I guess that will be equitable. Your story, Jacob?~

<Ah, yes. Now then, Wilhelm, you said that the stories that Hans and I told were for “fillies,” correct?>

*Yes.*

<Well prepare yourself for one of my favorite tales, with plenty of bloodshed for you, brother dear. But don’t be afraid, young ones, it’s only a story.>





There was once a Miller, who had a beautiful daughter. When she grew up, he wanted to have her married and settled. He thought, “If a suitable bridegroom comes and asks for my daughter, I will give her to him.”

Soon after a suitor came who appeared to be rich, and as the Miller knew nothing against him he promised his daughter to him. The Maiden, however, did not like him as a bride ought to like her bridegroom; nor had she any faith in him. Whenever she looked at him, or thought about him, a shudder came over her. 

One day he said to her, “You are my betrothed, and yet you have never been to see me.”

The Maiden answered: “I don’t even know where your house is.”

Then the Bridegroom said, “My house is in the depths of the Everfree Forest.”

She made excuses, and said she could not find the way.

The Bridegroom answered: “Next Sunday you must come and see me without fail. I have invited some other guests, and, so that you may be able to find the way, I will strew some ashes to guide you.”

When Sunday came, and the Maiden was about to start, she was frightened, though she did not know why. So that she should be sure of finding her way back she filled her saddlebags with peas and lentils. At the entrance to the Everfree Forest she found the track of ashes and followed it; but every step or two she scattered a few peas right and left.

She walked nearly the whole day, right into the midst of the forest, where it was almost dark. Here she saw a solitary house, which she did not like; it was so dark and dismal. She went in, but found nobody, and there was dead silence. Suddenly a voice cried-

“Turn back, turn back, thou bonnie Bride,
Nor in this house of death abide.”

The Maiden looked up, and saw that the voice came from a bird in a cage hanging on the wall. Once more it made the same cry-

“Turn back, turn back, thou bonnie Bride,
Nor in this house of death abide.”

The beautiful Bride went from room to room, all over the house, but they were all empty; not a soul was to be seen. At last she reached the cellar, and there she found an old, old mare with a shaking head.

“Can you tell me if my Bridegroom lives here?”

“Alas! Poor filly,” answered the old mare, “little dost thou know where thou art; thou art in a murderer’s den. Thou thoughtest thou wast about to be married, but death will be thy marriage. See here, I have had to fill this kettle with water, and when they have thee in their power they will kill thee without mercy, cook, and eat thee, for they are eaters of pony flesh. Unless I take pity on thee and save thee, thou art lost.” Then the old mare led her behind a great cask, where she could not be seen. “Be as quiet as a mouse,” she said. “Don’t stir, or all will be lost. Tonight, when the murderers are asleep, we will flee. I have long waited for an opportunity.”

Hardly had she said this when the riotous crew came home. They dragged another young mare with them, but as they were quite drunk they paid no attention to her shrieks and lamentations. They gave her wine to drink, three glasses full - red, white, and yellow. After she had drunk them she fell down dead. The poor Bride hidden behind the cask was terrified; she trembled and shivered, for she saw plainly to what fate she was destined.

One of the stallions noticed a gold ring on the forehoof of the murdered mare, and as he could not pull it off he took an axe and chopped the hoof off; but it sprang up into the air, and fell right in front of the Bride behind the cask. The stallion took a light to look for it, but he could not find it. 

One of the others said, “Have you looked behind the big cask?”

But the old mare called out: “Come and eat, and leave the search till tomorrow; the hoof won’t run away.”

The murderer said: “The old mare is right,” and they gave up the search and sat down to supper. But the old mare dropped a sleeping potion into their wine, so they soon lay down, went to sleep, and snored lustily.

When the Bride heard them snoring she came out from behind the cask; but she was obliged to step over the sleepers, as they lay in rows upon the floor. She was dreadfully afraid of touching them, but Celestia helped her, and she got through without mishap. The old mare went with her and opened the door, and they hurried away as quickly as they could from that vile den.

All the ashes had been blown away by the wind, but the peas and lentils had taken root and shot up, and showed them the way in the moonlight.

They walked the whole night, and reached the mill in the morning. The Maiden told her father all that she had been through.

When the day which had been fixed for the wedding came, the Bridegroom appeared, and the Miller invited all his friends and relations. As they sat at the table, each one was asked to tell some story. The Bride was very silent, but when it came to her turn, and the Bridegroom said, “Come, my love, have you nothing to say? Pray tell us something,” she answered:

“I will tell you a dream I have had. I was walking alone in the dark wood, and I came to a solitary house where not a soul was to be seen. A cage was hanging on the wall of one of the rooms, and in it was a bird which cried-”

“Turn back, turn back, thou bonnie Bride,
Nor in this house of death abide.”

“It repeated the same words twice.” She turned to the Bridegroom and appealed “This was only a dream, my love! I walked through all the rooms, but they were all empty and dismal. At last I went down to the cellar, and there sat a very old mare, with a shaking head. I asked her: ‘Does my Bridegroom live here?’ She answered, ‘Alas, you poor child, you are in a murderer’s den! Your Bridegroom indeed lives here, but he will cut you to pieces, cook you, and eat you.’ This was only a dream, my love!”

“Then the old mare hid me behind a cask, and hardly had she done so when the murderers came home, dragging another young mare with them. They gave her three kinds of wine to drink - red, white, and yellow; and after drinking them she fell down dead. My love, I was only dreaming this! Then they took her things off and cut her to pieces. My love, I was only dreaming! One of the murderers saw a gold ring on the filly’s hoof, and as he could not pull it off, he chopped off the hoof; but the hoof bounded into the air, and fell behind the cask in front of me. Here is the hoof with the ring.”

At these words she produced the hoof and showed it to the company.

When the Bridegroom heard these words, he turned as pale as ashes beneath his coat, and tried to escape; but the guests seized him and handed him over to justice. And he and all his band were executed for their crimes.





<Thank you for your indulgence. Was that “exciting” enough for you, Wilhelm?>

*Alright, alright, I concede. I don’t believe I remember that tale, where did you find it?*

<Oh, I found it in a small village to the North, around the->

~What is wrong with you two?!~

*What do you mean?*

~That was the most horrible thing I have ever heard in my life! I thought Harry Horseshoe was bad, but this?! This is just, Dear Celestia, it’s just awful! Ponies eating ponies?! Are you serious?! I thought we were trying to tell bedtime stories, not give the poor foals nightmares for the rest of their lives!~

<Hans, calm down. It was only a story.>

*Get a hold of yourself!*

~I...I simply cannot believe you two would write...Something like that.~

*Hold on, don’t most of your stories end in death as well?*

~Death, but not cannibalism!~

<Look, it was just a story. If any of the foals have nightmares tonight, I will be deeply sorry, but you have to consider that not only will their parents be there to comfort them but Princess Luna will as well.>

*I think Hans is going to have the nightmares…*

~I am not, thank you, Wilhelm. I’m just...Astounded that a story like that even exists.~

<To be fair, it is an old story. It was passed down for generations, ever since, oh I don’t know, quite possibly since the time of Discord.>

*Very true. I think a few of our stories have been told since the time of the Three Tribes.*

~Alright, fine. Tomorrow, I’m telling a story and I swear it is not going to be nearly as dark as yours. Besides, I think the snow outside will give the perfect backdrop.~