There once was a girl who loved to make weapons of all kinds, but especially swords. Her hair was a long golden color, with eyes a soft grey like the doves out in her father's yard.

Her skin fair and smooth as any other fine court lady that there was in all the lands and courts.

The girl loved the hot fires, glowing coals, and the sharp clang of metal as she hammered the material into the sharp and deadly swords and weapons that she made.

Her skills grew better and better with each sword, soon surpassing her master in the craft.

Her father however hated that she did such hard labor.

"It's a man's job!" He said. "The hot metal will scorch your skirts and ruin your complexion! Your hands will grow calloused and rough! Soon you will have no suitors asking for your hand!"

Soon after her father warned her, his words came true. Men stopped singing ballads, bringing flowers, and pulling their proposals away all together.

Her dresses became scorched at the hems and blackened from the dusts. Her hands rough and skin no longer pale as it had been.

Through all this though, she never lost her love of the craft.

"If I become an old maid, then I shall be only a maid that does what she loves!" the girl declared.

Her father frowned at her, resigned that he would be responsible for his daughter until his death.

"You should have caught a dandy fellow. One who walked with you by a lake! One who brought a single rose for you to hold as you laugh coyly and look shyly at him. One to cherish you and love you until you hair is grey as your soft eyes, and your skin is as wrinkled as mine."

"Father," the girl responded, "I would rather find a man who loved my craft and work than one who brings me roses. One who sees me as a human with a will and passions rather than a plaything to be toyed with."

Sighing, her father turned back to his work.

The daughter returned to her forge, dust coating her face in a fine layer and letting her smock become filthy again.

Soon, she found that men's attire helped her work in freedom.

Everyday she would walk to her forge in her skirts with a pretty hat perched upon her pretty head. Everyday she'd walk home in coarse pants that scratched her legs and even coarser shirts that left her skin with more scratches than her legs.

A year passed in this manner. The men that once admired her grew used to her strange habits and ways.

Another year passed. The men who had once lined up at her door now had found other ladies that suited their fancies. None could understand what they had once seen in the strange girl.

Another year passed. Soon the men who had attempted to woo her were married, their wives happily settled into their own homes.

Another year passed. Now the men who had proposed to her had children of their own, with more on the way and soon to come. They had made their families and all were glad that it was without the girl.

Another year passed. In this year the kind king and his son, the handsome prince, decided to take a trip to the county to see how their lands were faring.

Their procession came through the girl's village, right down the street that her forge was on.

The handsome prince and the kind king were famished. They hadn't eaten in hours, since their breakfast before they departed for the journey in fact, and now wished to dine again.

They called for the procession to halt. Dismounting their horses, the kind king sent his son, the handsome prince, to look for food.

The handsome prince stepped into the weavers.

"Is there any food, good sir?"

"No, I'm sorry your highness."

The handsome prince left and went to the potters.

"Is there any food, good sir?"

"No, forgive us, but there is nothing that we can spare from our lunch pails."

The handsome prince continued in this manner for many more shops, all turning him down and saying that they had no food to give. Stepping in the forge of the girl, he repeated his request.

"Is there any food, good sir?"

The girl turned about.

"While I'm not a man, I do have food to give you, your highness."

The handsome prince widened his eyes at his mistake.

"Ma'am! I do apologize!"

The girl replied gracefully as she gestured to her attire and the fires and metals around her, "Do not apologize. I chose this and did so proudly."

He nodded his head in respect at her choice.

"You asked for food?" the girl asked, walking over to a basket of food that she had made for herself that morning.

"I did. My father the kind king and I are hungry."

Lifting the basket she gracefully and selflessly gave it to him. "Take it all."

Accepting her kind offer, he took the basket back to his father.

He told his tale of not finding food until the girl had offered all of her food to him.

"We must find a way to give back what she has given us and to also make up for you mistaking her identity!" the kind king said.

A week later the girl received a message, an invitation to a small dinner at the kind king's palace. Accepting the invitation, she rode the offered steed to the palace for the offered meal.

There she was given a clean and fashionable dress to wear, a beautiful and stylish hat, and fine, sparkling gems to adorn her.

As she was seated at the table, three men and two women came to join her.

The kind king entered with his wife, the gentle queen, upon his arm. The handsome prince with his wife, the lovely princess, upon his arm followed them. Then following the handsome prince and lovely princess was the the handsome prince's younger brother.

The youngest prince hadn't accompanied his father and brother on their small trip. He had stayed behind in favor of working with the soldiers and working in and looking over the armory.

As the youngest prince looked up to view their visitor, he immediately found her pleasing to his eyes. She was no delicate flower, but a fine woman with a power that she had forged and a spark that made her glow.

Quickly striking up a conversation with the beauty, he found out about her love for weapons and eagerness to forge them. Offering to give her a tour of the armory, he was privileged enough to enjoy the sight of her eyes lighting up and glittering in anticipation and excitement at what she could expect.

Soon after the meal was finished, he lead her to the armory. With each sword her eyes brightened, step quickened, and speech became more lively.

With each weapon the youngest prince found himself falling for the girl and soon, found himself in love with her spirit, heart, soul, and mind.

Sadly, she returned home that night. The youngest prince was saddened that she left so quickly.

He soon began to visit the girl at her forge, watching her work her craft to make beautiful swords. Her small, strong hands creating many a fine blade. She made many for him with the high quality metal that he supplied.

He supplied these metals and stayed behind as she forged the weapons so that he would have the privilege of watching her work.

Within a few weeks, she found herself falling for the youngest prince. He was kind to her, he amused her, and he cared for what she cared for.

She soon began to visit the palace to see him more often. It quickly grew to the point where they would visit each other almost everyday at either the palace or the forge.

Within a year of this, the youngest prince knelt on one knee and held before her a clumsily forged ring that he had made himself.

"Isabelle, please, I've grown to love you, and I don't think that I could stand to be without you. Please, marry me and be with me until our ends."

"Peter, I love you too. I love you greatly and would love to marry you and be with you until our ends."

They were quickly wed, their wedding being small and beautiful. They each forged and created the others wedding rings with their beloved in their hearts and minds.

The suitors that had all tossed the girl aside bemoaned that they had tossed aside a girl worthy of marrying a prince.

"Why did we do such a thing? If only we had looked past the scorched skits and filthy and reddened skin then she might have been ours!"

The father though? He was glad his daughter waited until the right man. Until the man his daughter could love and who loved her back as well.