Once upon a time and yet not so long ago, there lived a big powerful giant with a mighty ability. He always knew what other people knew, knew what they spoke of and what they thought of. As the days went on, this made him important and the giant-folk looked up to him...males wanted to be him and the fair ladies wanted his power, his gold and his fame.
The powerful giant liked the attention and continued perfecting and exercising his powers. His fame grew and spread, until it reached a little white witch that lived with her little witch-folk in the same kingdom. You have to understand that while her sorcery was forceful, she never used it for evil and so she was a white witch. She spent her days speaking good of both giants and witches and through her words folks came to admire the ones that she spoke about. She lived in her little world undisturbed by dreams of grandness and power. She was happy to be just that, a little, white witch.
One day, as it usually happens in fairy tales, the fairy godmothers decided out of boredom that it would be rather entertaining to throw the powerful giant and the little witch together, then watch in amusement the way the story unfolded. They thought the two mages would fight for dominance over each other, not sparring pointy spears and sharp blades. They thought they'd fight to outwit each other with clever analogies and quick repartees, but instead, they met and had eyes only for each other.
He said the little white witch was adorable. He liked her energy and enthusiasm, her innocence and devilish fury when not treated seriously, and most of all, the way she never wanted or asked for anything from him. The little witch liked feeling safe with the great giant and was intrigued that someone so big was so tender, patient and protective with her. So, she stood on top of her little toes on top of a chair that was on top of a table and kissed him on the lips. And the fairy godmothers wept creating a downpour of rain with their huge wet tears. They knew but they were not speaking.
And so, the little white witch and the powerful giant fell in love. They couldn't live without each other and spent endless days talking, laughing and sharing stolen kisses. He taught her new words of his language and she taught him magic, like how never to mistake his horse for another and how to heal a guilty conscience with poultice of words. They continued to be happy, all the while hiding their relationship from the whole kingdom, because, you understand, the kingdom would have never approved of a relationship between a giant and the witch! It was unheard of!
But then the little witch got greedy. She wanted the powerful giant to be all hers. She wanted him to put her to sleep, day after day and wake up next her yelling 'why is it so goddamn bright?!!', the way giants were well-known to do, being the creatures of the night. She wanted to bear him children and teach them everything she knew. That's when the giant started spending more time out on his conquests, often without a single letter for the hopeful witch. He used his powers to conquer villages and dominate kings and spent endless days and nights plotting and scheming.
The little witch being the sparky, passionate kind ignited and invoked the spirits of Tartars to rain hail and create calamity. Her tongue turned harsh and the white coat turned black. Her eyes were two bright red sparks spewing fury on anyone who got on her path. She was hurting, and wanted to hurt the world back. But the more black magic she wove and disaster she invoked, the more she deteriorated and her insides became hollow. Still, do what she might, she could not make the giant love her enough, that was one power she didn't have to use. Love spells were not in the domain of white witches, not even dark ones. Those were done only by the lowest cast of mages "the ones that were ostracized from the witch-folk community and roamed the woods alone and unwanted. Daring to even think of casting a love spell would not go unpunished.
And so, lost and in pain, she went to the woods and prayed to the Mother of Tartars to tell her what to do, how to stop the pain, for she was a white witch after all and turning evil was destroying her. The merciful Mother of Tartars said 'Child, you are my strongest daughter, let it go before it kills you. Hurt is temporary. You, my daughter, are forever'.
The little witch turned white for a second time, a sense of purpose descending on her - to go back to helping people, to be herself again, to be happy. And she did. Then, a strange thing happened - the powerful giant came back. "I tried but I can't run away from you', he said. " I know the whole kingdom will not approve and they may try to harm us both but you are all I want. I ran and pillaged and murdered but I missed you too much " even your furious hand turning laughter into anger and tears'.
He brought her a toad and said that was his heart, for her to keep and nurture and do what she wants with, for it was only hers. And the little witch relented, kissed the giant again and kept the toad close to her at all times. But alas as the seasons changed so did the toad....it shriveled, its skin turned black and it grew dragon-like pangs, and the giant went back to his long conquests again, ignoring the little witch for eons to witchkind and fleeting moments to the giantfolk. He'd come from the conquests and go to drink ale and see the wenches and not show care for his little witch.
The little witch again became angry and evil. She waited for the worst storm, then opened the door and let the toad go. She had no place for it anymore, she didn't want to take care of what obviously didn't want taking care. The toad gave her a cheeky smirk and hopped away. The witch closed her eyes, took off her clothes and went after it into the rain. With a hair off the powerful giant, a hair of goat for stubbornness and a hair off her own, for courage, she went into the rain to cast a spell. Her power was always closest to water and in the rain, she was invincible. Her spell was for courage, strength and stubbornness to never want the giant back.
She came back, strong and formidable. She felt the force. She was the force. And the Tartars rejoiced because their sister was back with them. She went with them to balls and festivities, laughed, heard wonderful music and danced the nights away, and, happy being herself again, created beautiful and amazing spells. Her fame grew and spread and all sorts of folks from adjacent kingdoms came for her magic and she was happy to help them.
But what the fate created the little white witch could not undo. She still loved the powerful giant with a red fire, for they were the same. Two sides of the same coin. Her evils side matched his and his caring side hers, and that worried the giant. He said he didn't want her, but he would miss the little witch still and tell her he loved her, come looking for her high and low. And the little witch was torn right apart. But then one day she went to the town for herbs, needed for her heeling spells and she met a prince. Not her prince mind you, but a prince nonetheless. And the prince who had never seen another white witch before asked with total captivation 'Are all white witches as unique as you? Do they stand out as much?' and she remembered what the Mother of Tartars told her. She smiled, thanked the prince, took her spell-casting herbs and with a complete sense of peace went to back to her little white-witch's ways.
The end .