toothycat | Stories

bormor writes funky little short stories in his journal. I asked him if he minded me translating some and reposting them, and he said that was OK..
So here're some I've done so far, and I'll likely be posting more as I translate them.

Original here

Everyone in the house knew that a terrible monster lived under the wardrobe. The kitten knew this too. But however long he spent crawling about underneath and sniffing the dusty corners, he never found anyone. Terrible monsters are generally famed for their skill at hiding from kittens under wardrobes.
Eventually, the kitten got fed up of this; he crawled out into the room, carefully washed his cobweb-covered muzzle, and asked the darkness:
"Hello! Is there anyone there?"
"Yes", the darkness under the wardrobe replied. Of course, had anyone else been there in the kitten's place, they would not have heard an answer. But kittens are kittens and can hear things no others can.
"Who are you? Are you really a terrible monster?"
"I am your Worst Nightmare", the darkness replied.
"Mine?", the kitten asked delightedly. "My very own?"
"Whose else?", the darkness replied with a sniff.
"Then why can't I see you? Why are you hiding?"
"Because I'm a Nightmare, and it's daytime now", the darkness explained. "Everything works the other way around in the daytime. In the daytime, I'm scared of you."
"Of me?"
"Well, yes. You're my Daymare."
"No way! I'm cute and fluffy. And very, very small."
"And what do you think I'm like, then?", asked the Nightmare angrily. "Think about it - if I was giant and terrifying, would I fit under this wardrobe?"
"No..."
"Well, then, there you go."
"I really wanted to see you...", said the kitten sadly. He had very little of his own - just the house, the human, a little bowl, and now, as it turned out, also a Nightmare. But what good was it if he couldn't even see it?
"Wait until evening", the Nightmare suggested. "Then I'll come out and you can see me."
"Naaaw", the kitten shook his head. "I go to sleep in the evenings. I'm a house kitten, well-mannered."
"Then it's just not to be", the Nightmare sighed sadly.
The kitten scratched behind his ear in thought. Then he jumped on the couch, and from the couch onto the windowsill, grabbed a corner of the curtain and pulled it closed.
"There!", he exclaimed proudly. "Let's call it evening!"
He jumped onto the table and struck the table-lamp switch with his paw. The table-lamp always got turned on whenever it was evening.
"You see? The lamp is on, so it really is evening-time. Where are you?"
The kitten turned towards the wardrobe and meowed in surprise and delight. His Nightmare lay spread out on the carpet next to the wardrobe - giant, grey, fearsome and very, very real! The Nightmare had pointy triangular ears, a long, fluffy tail and was flat as a sheet of blotting paper - naturally, since it lived under the wardrobe.
"Oh, how wonderful!", the kitten exclaimed in joy. "So that's what you're like!"
"Yup, that's what I'm like!", the Nightmare replied proudly.
"Can you do this?"
The kitten arched his back. The Nightmare did the same.
"What about your tail?"
The kitten wagged his tail, and the Nightmare moved his exactly the same way.
"I can do everything!", he assured the kitten.
"Hurrah!", the kitten cried and jumped off the table. The Nightmare instantly ran from his spot on the floor and up the wall.
And so, right up until evening when it really was time to sleep, the kitten played tag with his Worst Nightmare.

Original here

In the dark of night, the Dragon landed in a field close to the castle walls. Here, in the mornings, the princesses got taken out for walkies, and he wanted a new pet. Finding a spot with high, thick grass, the Dragon flattened himself against the earth, gathered in his wings and waited.
"It's good that I'm green and flat", he thought. "Until I attack, no-one will notice me. The princesses themselves don't bite, but the males accompanying them have very unpleasant stings."
At that moment, somebody slapped the Dragon's muzzle. Very weakly, but quite decisively. The Dragon lowered his eyes, squinted, and saw a kitten under his nose. The kitten stood, thin paws spread, back arched and tail fluffed; this made him look twice his size. Which was good, since otherwise the Dragon would not have seen him at all.
"What was that for?", the Dragon exclaimed in surprise.
"Nothing", the Kitten replied. "I'm hunting."
"Hunting what?"
"Hunting you."
The Dragon blinked, and the Kitten explained proudly:
"From that birch-tree up to the fence is my hunting-ground. Since you've landed here, you are my prey."
"Is that right?", said the Dragon with some doubt.
"Totally right!" The Kitten jumped forward and covered one of the Dragon's talons with his paws. "I've caught you, and now you're mine!"
"So what do you intend to do with me?" The Dragon tilted his head curiously. "Eat me?"
The kitten thought awhile.
"No. I don't want to eat you. You're pretty."
"Then what do you want?", the flattered Dragon asked.
"I want to play. Cat and mouse. I'll be the cat, and you can be the mouse."
The Dragon sat on his tail and scratched behind his ear with a paw perplexedly.
"Kid, there's something wrong with you. I'm a Dragon! You ought to be terrified of me!"
"I ought nothing!" The Kitten jerked his muzzle upwards haughtily. "We, cats, do only what we want. And I want to play."
"And is there nothing else you want?" The Dragon squinted.
"Of course there is!", the Kitten replied. "I want to have my tummy scratched, and to be given bowls of milk and rides on shoulders."
The Dragon stared in the direction where the towers of the royal castle loomed in the darkness.
"You know what?", he thought. "Sod the princess!"
"Fine", the Dragon nodded to the Kitten, who'd already started rubbing against the Dragon's claw. Carefully, the Dragon lifted the Kitten with a talon. "Want to live with me?"
"Will you play with me lots and lots?"
"I will. And I'll feed you milk and scratch your tummy."
"I agree, then." The Kitten nodded with import and climbed up the Dragon's back. "Isn't it grand that I didn't eat you after all?"

PS: The princess never discovered what terrible fate she'd avoided so narrowly.

Original here

This story happened in one small fairytale kingdom. It was purely nominally a fairytale kingdom; it was so small that no serious miracles ever happened there. Just random little things.

In this kingdom, as is customary, there lived a prince. He was not the only inhabitant, naturally, but the tale will be specifically about him.

The prince, as is commonplace in fairytales, was in love with a shepherdess. A pure and refined kind of platonic love. It was requited. That is, she loved him also, in secret and from afar. Naturally so - just consider who she was and who he was! It's only in fairytales that simple shepherdesses get to marry the highborn. And our kingdom, remember, although a fairytale one, was all in all not quite so much so. Thus the shepherdess, being a bright and practical lass, did not particularly expect miracles of such a nature.

The prince's outlook was more optimistic. He hired a horde of researchers who studied the shepherdess's entire life and constructed for His Highness a complete psychological portrait. And the prince realised that he needed precisely such a girl. Just to be certain, he turned to a famous enchantress (a foreign one, since the kingdom had none of its own), who confirmed: yes, of all the girls of the appropriate age the shepherdess was the most suitable partner for the prince. Close to an ideal option.

Naturally, such a story can't finish in any way but a happy end. But for the moment, it has not finished.

The wedding was held in spring. The shepherdess was not invited - understandably; what would she do at a royal wedding? The prince married a princess from a neighbouring kingdom. The princess was six years his senior; of face she was hardly ugly, but all the same, nothing special. Although, why hide it? Yes, she was plain. Stumpy, freckly and short-sighted. But the marriage was very profitable for the two states, and what is a just ruler to consider a priority but the good of his kingdom? The prince's and princess's parents had already discussed and agreed everything in advance, back when both were little. And the prince had known full well who his wife would be. One could not forbid him to dream, though, right?

The shepherdess married some months later, a blacksmith from a neighbouring village. She was quite content in her marriage. After all, if you think about it, she didn't even know the prince. He remained for her a child's dream, something shining and not of this world. As for her husband - there he was, caring, hard-working, a moderate drinker who only rarely beat her - what more could a simple shepherdess wish for? Many of her friends had fared far worse. And here she was - their own house, a decent income, stability. As for the blacksmith being almost twice her age - well, that wasn't such a terrible thing. He loved her! Bought her cookies. Took her to the fair in the holidays. For such happiness to smile upon the shepherdess - hardly creditable that it could happen without a miracle being involved!

As for the prince... well, the prince was quite content too. Although perhaps he was not aflame with passion for his wife, with time, having lived together a few years, he learned to respect her and came to love her - a steady, calm love. The princess was an intelligent woman with a good understanding of politics and economics, and helped her husband as best she could. She could hold a conversation with ease on any subject from antique art to hunting with hounds. Calm and well-balanced, the princess became an indispensable support for the prince, a true companion in life, a friend in whose company he always found warmth and comfort. When enemies fell upon the kingdom and the prince's army was cut off from the capital, the princess stood on the city walls and led the resistance. When their only daughter had measles, the prince and princess themselves watched over her by her bedside in shifts, swabbing her forehead with wet cloths. They shared their troubles and happinesses equally. And the prince was very happy to have just such a wife - perhaps not an ideal one, but a wonderful one nonetheless.

The shepherdess became a widow young. Her husband died on the town battlements, fighting in the resistance forces. She did not remarry, and raised her son alone. The son took after his father, just as reliable, just as serious; his body a blacksmith's, tall and wide-shouldered, but his face resembled his mother's more - he had her green eyes and chestnut hair. When the boy grew up, he took to shepherding.

The prince became a widower much later. In the procession, following the coffin of his wife, who had died of some rare illness, the grey-haired prince cried without reserve. He never remarried either - he could not imagine any woman by his side but his princess. Moreover, he did not think any stepmother could replace for his daughter her mother. The daughter grew to little resemble her parents. She had something of her mother's - the orange hair and sharp chin, and something of her father's - the blue eyes and the shape of the ears; but all these traits appeared her own, no-one else's, so aptly were they combined. What could one say? The girl was a real beauty.

And so.

In a small fairytale kingdom there lived a beautiful princess. And in the same kingdom, there lived a simple shepherd... Naturally, such a story cannot but have a happy end.

Original here

"Please be careful, Your Highness!", the captain of the guard shouted as the pilgrim that they had stopped to ask directions of turned his face towards them. But it was already too late. The pilgrim's eyes shone ruby red; his jaws stretched forwards and sprouted fangs, his shoulders moved apart, and from behind them, tearing apart his cloak, scaly wings burst outwards. Before anyone could reach a weapon, the dragon was already soaring, clutching his prize.

The first leap was enough to make it over the bushes by the roadside; but the dragon was quickly dropped to the earth by the weight of his load. Beating his wings furiously, he managed to soften the impact; having got a more comfortable grip on his struggling prey, he raced through the woods. A lone arrow followed him, and a hysterical female voice: "Don't shoot! You might hit Their Highness!" "Uh huh", the draggon nodded to himself as he gathered speed. Soon the noise and shouts were left far behind. Looping back and forth a few times just to make certain, the dragon turned towards his lair.

Carefully lowering his drool-covered prize on the stone floor, he towered motionless for several seconds; then gave a loud cry of victory and began to jump all around, rearing his butt and wagging his tail like a puppy.
"I did it! I did it! Aren't I great? I caught one, I caught one, I caught one!"
"What are you so happy about, you monstrosity?", muttered the prey darkly as it lifted itself to its feet.
"I caught one!", explained the dragon happily. "My first princess! Isn't that amazing?"
"Hah!", snorted the prey. "Tough luck. I'm not a princess."
The dragon tilted his head distrustfully.
"You're lying!", he said assuredly. "I heard them myself, calling you Your Highness. And, if you're not a princess, how come you're wearing a crown?"
"Because I'm a prince, twit!"
"A prince?..." The dragon sniffed his prize suspiciously and frowned. "Strange. I distinctly remember what I was taught. Long hair, a silver diadem, silk clothes... all the signs are there. Are you quite sure you're not a princess?"
"Shall I take my trousers off so you can check?", growled the prey angrily.
The dragon opened his jaw, then shut it again.
"That's right," he said in a dead voice, "Trousers. How could I forget?! Princesses wear skirts, princes - trousers."
He sat back on his tail and gave a dejected sob.
"There you have it... and I tried so hard!"
"I can't say I have much sympathy," replied the prince coldly. "You've made me look like a complete fool."
"Hm?" The dragon lifted an armored eyebrow suspiciously.
"Indeed! Instead of fighting dragons to save beautiful princesses - there you have it, I'm a princess for someone else! What shame!"
The prince sat on the floor, hugged his knees and buried his face in them.
"Who'll need me now? I'm useless..."
His shoulders shook, and the dragon realised he was crying.
"Hey, hey now", the dragon shuffled about uneasily. "It could happen to anyone. I'll take you back and apologise."
"That'd be even worse", the prince mumbled, without raising his head. "Now, had I killed you..."
"Whoah, whoah there, none of that!" - the dragon edged back.
"I don't even have a sword," sniffed the prince bitterly. "The armsbearer's got everything."
"That's all right, then." The dragon calmed visibly.
"It's certainly not all right!" The prince jumped to his feet and stomped a boot angrily. "How am I to show myself before my parents now? And what kind of princess will go for me?"
"Hey!", the dragon frowned. "What do YOU need a princess for?"
"What do you mean?", spluttered the prince. "What do you mean, 'what for'? What did you want one for?"
"I have need of one!", declared the dragon solidly.
"I understood that. But what were going to do with her?"
The dragon poked the floor with a talon abashedly.
"I don't know", he admitted. "I haven't been taught that yet. I thought I'd catch a princess first, and then somehow... work it out."
"Haven't been taught yet?", the prince quizzed.
"Uh-huh", the dragon sighed. "My parents kept promising, promising... but in the end, never got a chance."
"My condolences", muttered the prince.
"Thank you. And what do you need a princess for?"
"Well, you know..." The prince blushed furiously. "That's the way things are. I'm a prince, she's a princess... you know, flowers and pollen and all that..."
"Flowers?", said the dragon in astonishment. "Pollen?"
"Yeah. Well, that's what they've said so far. Next term they promised to explain about the birds and the bees, but right now I'm too young."
"Riiiight..." The dragon scratched his head with a talon. "I don't really know what to advise. We didn't even get as far as pollen. To be honest, I was kind of hoping the princesses themselves would know what one is supposed to do with them."
"Me too", the prince admitted.
"So, then, I'm going to try and catch another princess", the dragon decided. "And if she doesn't know, then another. Surely at least one will know!"
"And what am I to do?", asked the prince. "I can't go attacking convoys in broad daylight and carrying princesses off to my lair! I don't even have a lair!"
"You can use mine", the dragon offered. "You don't even need to pretend to look like a human, you look like one already."
"Pretend to look like a human?" The prince bit his lip thoughtfully. "Incidentally, how do you do that?"
The dragon strutted proudly.
"I am a Silver Dragon! We can all shapeshift!"
"Silver?" The prince walked around the dragon, examining him from all sides. "I don't mean to be rude, but this silver looks very green."
"What would a human understand? It's camouflage! Khaki, the best colour for raids."
"Is it just humans you can turn into, or animals too?"
The dragon tilted back his head and hissed.
"You going to tell me to turn into a mouse? That trick won't work!"
"No, what's that got to do with anything?", the prince waved his hand. "It's just... have you ever heard of fishing with bait?"

Two hours later, the prince triumphantly left the dragon's cave. He rode a brilliant white charger - slightly atypical, admittedly, but only for lack of practice on the dragon's part. The prince had high hopes that the dragon would soon get used to his cover.
"Now they will all be ours!", he declared with more assurance than he really felt. "Half for you, half for me."
"Still, what are we going to do with them?", his mount asked.
"We'll work it out when we get there."