This fairy tale was actually a ballad known as 'The Cruel Sister'. In the original one sister kills the other (by drowning in a river) over a guy that was stringing them both along. The dead sister is found by a minstrel who strings his harp with her long blonde hair. In the more gruesome version the entire harp is made of her body parts. The harp sings at the wedding of the surviving sister and the guy revealing the murder. The bride is executed and the guy who started it (usually a knight or prince) gets off scot free. I hope that you like my modern version.
The Swan Sisters
Once upon a time there were two sisters...
Anne's eyes swung around the baggage claim. Dmitri was trying to find their bags as the conveyer belt trundled around. Anne was more interested in seeing if her family had actually showed up to get them from the airport. She hadn't seen them for over three years, not since she had left in an absolute rage over their preferential treatment of her younger sister. Half sister, she reminded herself. It had been a culmination of sixteen years of feeling like an outsider in her own family; ever since her father had married Marie.
She glanced back at her boyfriend of six months, now her fiancΓ© and grinned at his dark beauty. He was handsome with black curly hair, golden tan skin and a body that Adonis would be jealous of. How she had managed to catch his eye she would never know but she melted every time he looked at her with those laughing black eyes.
She had met Dmitri through an internship at the university she was attending in Europe. Horticulture was her obsession and she had overjoyed to have been chosen as an intern for his family's winery for six months. He had taken an instant liking to the shy, introverted American and had spent quite a bit of time pursuing her. Anne still wasn't sure why. Dmitri was all of the things that she wasn't; popular, outgoing, handsome, and a now recently graduated Master of Business. She had been the quiet type that spent all of her time studying.
Her eyes roving again she spotted her father and step-mother coming her way and waved. Her step-mother was looking as polished as ever, even in casual cloths. Her father looked absolutely unchanged from the last time she had seen him, tall, blonde and beefy. Marie spoke to her father even as Anne turned to Dmitri.
"Dmi they're here," she told him, her voice pitched higher in nervousness. Emily wasn't there, 'thank God' she thought to herself. She was not looking forward to seeing her again.
"Got the last one," he told her in his lightly accented Greek, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the forehead.
Her parents pushed through the crowds and Anne felt her stomach fluttering with nerves. The moment of reckoning came and she felt almost sick.
"You must be Dmitri," her father said, extending his hand.
"Yes, sir," responded Dmitri, giving him a firm handshake and an engaging smile.
Anne was struck by the picture they made. Her father was still big and bulky from his years as a football player and Dmitri, a head shorter, was as dark as he was blonde, his lithe, graceful body shown to its advantage in jeans and a slightly too tight polo.
"Welcome Dmitri," her mother said and gave him a quick hug," so nice to meet you at last."
"It is good to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Swan," Dmitri said in his slightly accented English. "Anne has told me a great deal about you both."
Anne smiled mechanically from where she was, tucked up next to Dmitri's firm body. It didn't surprise her that her dad and step-mother had made straight for Dmitri and practically ignored the fact that she was there. That was pretty par for the course with them. She wondered why she had bothered to be nervous in the first place. Dmitri's arm around her with his thumb rubbing lazily against her ribcage took a good deal of the sting out of it though. She tightened her arm around him slightly.
Dmitri looked down at her and grinned. "I have been taking good care of your daughter for you."
Anne laughed out loud at that. If anything Dmitri had pulled her kicking and screaming out of her shell and opened her eyes to the fun to be had when studying abroad.
"That is wonderful," said her father, hefting one of the suitcases. "But please, call me Alan."
"And I am Marie," interjected her step-mother giving Anne a brief kiss on the cheek and a one armed hug. "You look so tan Annie dear, you must be careful in that Mediterranean sun."
"I'm tan Marie," Anne replied, "not burnt." Anne noticed the look of irritation on Marie's face that was quickly erased. She had called her Marie from the moment that she had met her at the age of four. It had always irritated her that Anne didn't call her mom. Anne grinned inwardly. She wasn't going to take Marie's comments like the doormat she had always been. Dmitri had bolstered her confidence and taught her to stand up for herself, and she was going to take them to heart when it came to dealing with her family.
"I have the car parked in the 10 minute parking zone," said Alan, "we should get moving. Is this all the luggage?"
"Yes," laughed Dmitri, "I have taught Anne the secret of packing lightly for our trips around Europe."
"Well, maybe she can teach Marie a thing or two about that," laughed Alan. "Every time we go anywhere it is like we are taking her entire closet with us."
The trip home took about two hours as traffic was light. Conversation consisted mostly of family news and catching up a bit. Toward the end of the drive she began to doze a bit, jet lag catching up with her. She was grateful for Dmitri's comforting presence. She had not wanted to be here but he had insisted on meeting her parents. 'After all," he told her, 'they are to be my parents too. I would rather meet them before the wedding takes place." With that he had kissed her senseless and she had decided to let him win.
@@@@
Emily wasn't at the house when they got there. Anne was grateful, she was still angry with her younger sister. Years of silent resentment, living in her sister's shadow, had erupted when she had gotten Great Aunt Silvia's garnet bracelet.