Work Text:
There's a story about a boy, traded away while little more than a movement in his mother's womb, unwanted, the third, and one too many in the days where a woman had no choice in the matter- other than magic. In her indifference, the mother went to see the Seam Witch to find out what could be done about the boy.
The witch was not an old crone but a young beauty, blond and blue-eyed, living in her hovel in the coal town, making her living with potions and trades. "Hold out your hand," the witch commanded.
The women joined hands, and the mother felt a great movement like her spirit leaving her body when their palms connected. When the exchange was over, the witch uncurled her fingers. Inside the mother's palm lay a single pumpkin seed. "You must go to the edge of the woods and plant it," the witch commanded. "I will take care of the rest."
So the mother left the witch's home, relieved of her burden of the unwanted boy. She did as the witch asked, going to the far edge of the woods under cover of night so as not to be seen, and planted the seed in the meadow spreading out past the trees. The mother feared the boy's reappearance too much to ignore the task. She had to be sure she was rid of him.
What the witch did not know was that her title was soon to be a mother as well. A child was stirring in her own womb, and because of the exchange, a piece of the boy was with the baby girl, and a part of the girl was with the boy.
As the witch's stomach swelled and blossomed, the vine grew out of the ground; she took it upon herself to care for the enchanted plant. She watered it and cared for it, and soon a single blossom appeared on the vine, which steadily grew into a pumpkin. At first, it was a small pumpkin round and sturdy, but the witch did not cut it off the vine at harvest. The pumpkin grew and grew and grew. After her daughter was born, the witch-mother strapped the baby onto her back and took her to visit.
The baby girl grew to just a girl, alongside the pumpkin, at first clapping her baby hands against the hollow outer shell, then holding onto the stem before pulling herself up to walk, and then climbing atop it to sit in the autumn sun. Soon the girl was big, and the pumpkin was enormous, showing no signs of stopping. The pumpkin grew and grew and grew.
A baby sister came after the girl and years of happiness with the mother-witch and her father and sister. One day there was an accident, and the little girl's father wasn't coming home again. The witch-mother sorrowed and forgot to feed and water her family and the pumpkin as well.
The little girl grew thin and hungry. She gave what food there was to the witch-mother and sister. Every week she walked slowly to the meadow to water the pumpkin as well. The girl did this as long as she could until there was no food at all. Her heart was heavy, but she knew what she had to do. She took a lantern and their bucket and her mother's carving knife and set out for the meadow. The pumpkin was her friend, but they were starving. Pumpkins were food; it had to be sacrificed.
After a slow, weak walk, the little girl arrived at the meadow. Hearing the rushing sound of legs moving through the tall grass, she hid behind a barren apple tree, frightened of the boys and girls from town- loud, naughty, and well feed. Once they were gone, the girl crept towards her pumpkin on quiet feet.
"Pumpkin?" she whispered, running towards her friend. The children from town had carved a face into its flesh, marring its beautiful, smooth orange surface. It would never be the same again.
"Oh, pumpkin ." The girl cried out, setting aside the knowledge she'd come to do the same thing.
The girl leaned her head against the pumpkin skin to comfort her friend. But when her ear was flush with the rind, she heard crying from its innards and a voice.
"Help me," it sobbed, "it's so dark. Help me get out of here."
The girl stepped away from the pumpkin, swallowing nervously. There was someone inside her friend, and they wanted out. To do that, she would have to cut her pumpkin open. She knew the pumpkin would never be the same after that. It would rot away and be gone forever.
The girl made up her mind. Quickly, before she could change it and do something selfish, the girl clenched her witch mother's knife between her teeth and scurried up the side of the pumpkin until she was at the top. She drove the butcher knife in the pumpkin's flesh, cutting a deep hole, moving very slowly because she'd used almost the rest of her strength to make it to the top.
The voice inside the pumpkin quieted some as she spoke to it in low tones, comforting whoever was inside her friend. Once the top was severed, the girl used her last strength and the knife as a lever and wrestled it entirely off. She let the top of the pumpkin slide to the ground, where it splattered in an orange, pulpy mess of flesh and seeds and rind.
Seeds! At least her family could eat the seeds when this was all over.
"Oh, I can see the stars, at last," the voice inside the pumpkin said.
"Can you climb out?" the girl asked.
There was a struggling sound like someone climbing and struggling, mushy and slick, from inside the pumpkin. The voice huffed loudly. "I cannot get out."
"Maybe if we rolled it onto its side?" she asked after a moment. "I'll hop down, and together we'll get it over."
The girl landed nimbly on her feet, and after a great heaving and groaning of voices and pumpkin flesh, they got it onto its side. First thing, the girl retrieved her lantern and brought it to the opening she'd carved out of the top.
Inside was a boy, young like her. He had a solid little body and blond curls and blue eyes like those she'd dreamed of since she was a baby. In her dreams, his eyes were sad, but now they were happy. "Thank you for saving me," he said, crawling out of the shell. He stood, his eyes taking everything around him in with wander. "It's beautiful out here."
The girl took his hand. "Come, we'll save each other. You can come home with me, help me carry the pumpkin seeds."
The boy went home with the girl, and things were better. Two children cooked the seeds and the pumpkin flesh they carried home by the buckets full. They kept the girl's family alive until the witch-mother came out of her dark period. The boy discovered a knack for baking things, and the family sold his creations alongside the witch mother's potions and spells. The family soon flourished.
After many years, when the boy and girl were near grown, they fell in love. Or you could say they grew into it. Because while the boy always stayed with the family, once he left the pumpkin behind, the girl never felt for him the way one did for a brother.
Their wedding was a beautiful, happy time for the boy and girl (who were no longer a boy or a girl, not really) and all their neighbors. As was customary after the ceremony, they shared a feast with those gathered to celebrate the new couple's joy. Game and bread and vegetables and cheeses, and for the last course because it was autumn and fruits were in abundance, pies; pies of all sorts, except pumpkin.
The boy and girl, who were no longer a boy and girl but man and wife, had quite their fill of pumpkin.