A Note Before the Story
Audible told me the books I bought were mine. They said it plainly: yours forever. I believed them.
Then they removed titles from my library. Books I had paid for, marked purchased, assumed were permanent — gone. When I asked why, the answers were evasive. The terms were reinterpreted. The guarantee dissolved into fine print no one had shown me at the point of sale.
This is not a complicated situation. They took something. Then they lied about taking it.
I had two options. Buy the same book again from the company that had already demonstrated it would take it from me again. Or build something they could not reach.
I chose the second. I took a Norwegian fairy tale — “The Twelve Wild Ducks,” collected by Asbjørnsen and Moe, public domain, belonging to no platform and no corporation — and I rebuilt it with AI tools. The result is what follows.
It is better than what Audible had. Not because the technology is superior. Because I own it and I am good at this. Because no company can revoke it at midnight and blame the licensing agreement. Because the story belongs to whoever is reading it right now, which is how stories were always meant to work, before the platforms decided ownership was a subscription service.
Read it. Then go check your own digital library and count what’s missing.
The Twelve Wild Ducks — a Norwegian fairy tale, retold
Tags: Audible digital ownership, DRM audiobook removal, AI retold fairy tales, public domain Norwegian folklore, platform accountability
THE TWELVE WILD DUCKS
Once on a time there was a Queen who was out driving, when there had
been a new fall of snow in the winter; but when she had gone a little
way, she began to bleed at the nose, and had to get out of her sledge.
And so, as she stood there, leaning against the fence, and saw the red
blood on the white snow, she fell a-thinking how she had twelve sons
and no daughter, and she said to herself:
“If I only had a daughter as white as snow and as red as blood, I
shouldn’t care what became of all my sons.”
But the words were scarce out of her mouth before an old witch of the
Trolls came up to her.
“A daughter you shall have”, she said, “and she shall be as white as
snow, and as red as blood; and your sons shall be mine, but you may
keep them till the babe is christened.”
So when the time came the Queen had a daughter, and she was as white as
snow, and as red as blood, just as the Troll had promised, and so they
called her “Snow-white and Rosy-red.” Well, there was great joy at the
King’s court, and the Queen was as glad as glad could be; but when what
she had promised to the old witch came into her mind, she sent for a
silversmith, and bade him make twelve silver spoons, one for each
prince, and after that she bade him make one more, and that she gave to
Snow-white and Rosy-red. But as soon as ever the Princess was
christened, the Princes were turned into twelve wild ducks, and flew
away. They never saw them again—away they went, and away they stayed.
So the Princess grew up, and she was both tall and fair, but she was
often so strange and sorrowful, and no one could understand what it was
that failed her. But one evening the Queen was also sorrowful, for she
had many strange thoughts when she thought of her sons. She said to
Snow-white and Rosy-red,
“Why are you so sorrowful, my daughter? Is there anything you want? if
so, only say the word, and you shall have it.”
“Oh, it seems so dull and lonely here”, said Snow-white and Rosy-red;
“every one else has brothers and sisters, but I am all alone; I have
none; and that’s why I’m so sorrowful.”
“But you _had_ brothers, my daughter”, said the Queen; “I had twelve
sons who were your brothers, but I gave them all away to get you”; and
so she told her the whole story.
So when the Princess heard that, she had no rest; for, in spite of all
the Queen could say or do, and all she wept and prayed, the lassie
would set off to seek her brothers, for she thought it was all her
fault; and at last she got leave to go away from the palace. On and on
she walked into the wide world, so far, you would never have thought a
young lady could have strength to walk so far.
So, once, when she was walking through a great, great wood, one day she
felt tired, and sat down on a mossy tuft and fell asleep. Then she
dreamt that she went deeper and deeper into the wood, till she came to
a little wooden hut, and there she found her brothers; just then she
woke, and straight before her she saw a worn path in the green moss,
and this path went deeper into the wood; so she followed it, and after
a long time she came to just such a little wooden house as that she had
seen in her dream.
Now, when she went into the room there was no one at home, but there
stood twelve beds, and twelve chairs, and twelve spoons—a dozen of
everything, in short. So when she saw that she was so glad, she hadn’t
been so glad for many a long year, for she could guess at once that her
brothers lived here, and that they owned the beds, and chairs, and
spoons. So she began to make up the fire, and sweep the room, and make
the beds, and cook the dinner, and to make the house as tidy as she
could; and when she had done all the cooking and work, she ate her own
dinner, and crept under her youngest brother’s bed, and lay down there,
but she forgot her spoon upon the table.
So she had scarcely laid herself down before she heard something
flapping and whirring in the air, and so all the twelve wild ducks came
sweeping in; but as soon as ever they crossed the threshold they became
Princes.
“Oh, how nice and warm it is in here”, they said. “Heaven bless him who
made up the fire, and cooked such a good dinner for us.”
And so each took up his silver spoon and was going to eat. But when
each had taken his own, there was one still left lying on the table,
and it was so like the rest that they couldn’t tell it from them.
“This is our sister’s spoon”, they said; “and if her spoon be here, she
can’t be very far off herself.”
“If this be our sister’s spoon, and she be here”, said the eldest, “she
shall be killed, for she is to blame for all the ill we suffer.”
And this she lay under the bed and listened to.
“No”, said the youngest, “’twere a shame to kill her for that. She has
nothing to do with our suffering ill; for if any one’s to blame, it’s
our own mother.”
So they set to work hunting for her both high and low, and at last they
looked under all the beds, and so when they came to the youngest
Prince’s bed, they found her, and dragged her out. Then the eldest
Prince wished again to have her killed, but she begged and prayed so
prettily for herself.
“Oh! gracious goodness! don’t kill me, for I’ve gone about seeking you
these three years, and if I could only set you free, I’d willingly lose
my life.”
“Well!” said they, “if you will set us free, you may keep your life;
for you can if you choose.”
“Yes; only tell me”, said the Princess, “how it can be done, and I’ll
do it, whatever it be.”
“You must pick thistle-down”, said the Princes, “and you must card it,
and spin it, and weave it; and after you have done that, you must cut
out and make twelve coats, and twelve shirts, and twelve neckerchiefs,
one for each of us, and while you do that, you must neither talk, nor
laugh, nor weep. If you can do that, we are free.”
“But where shall I ever get thistle-down enough for so many
neckerchiefs, and shirts, and coats?” asked Snow-white and Rosy-red.
“We’ll soon show you”, said the Princes; and so they took her with them
to a great wide moor, where there stood such a crop of thistles, all
nodding and nodding in the breeze, and the down all floating and
glistening like gossamers through the air in the sunbeams. The Princess
had never seen such a quantity of thistledown in her life, and she
began to pluck and gather it as fast and as well as she could; and when
she got home at night she set to work carding and spinning yarn from
the down. So she went on a long long time, picking, and carding, and
spinning, and all the while keeping the Princes’ house, cooking, and
making their beds. At evening home they came, flapping and whirring
like wild ducks, and all night they were Princes, but in the morning
off they flew again, and were wild ducks the whole day.
But now it happened once, when she was out on the moor to pick
thistle-down—and if I don’t mistake, it was the very last time she was
to go thither—it happened that the young King who ruled that land was
out hunting, and came riding across the moor, and saw her. So he
stopped there and wondered who the lovely lady could be that walked
along the moor picking thistle-down, and he asked her her name, and
when he could get no answer, he was still more astonished; and at last
he liked her so much, that nothing would do but he must take her home
to his castle and marry her. So he ordered his servants to take her and
put her up on his horse. Snow-white and Rosy-red, she wrung her hands,
and made signs to them, and pointed to the bags in which her work was,
and when the King saw she wished to have them with her, he told his men
to take up the bags behind them. When they had done that the Princess
came to herself, little by little, for the King was both a wise man and
a handsome man too, and he was as soft and kind to her as a doctor. But
when they got home to the palace, and the old Queen, who was his
stepmother, set eyes on Snow-white and Rosy-red, she got so cross and
jealous of her because she was so lovely, that she said to the king:
“Can’t you see now, that this thing whom you have picked up, and whom
you are going to marry, is a witch. Why? she can’t either talk, or
laugh, or weep!”
But the King didn’t care a pin for what she said, but held on with the
wedding, and married Snow-white and Rosy-red and they lived in great
joy and glory; but she didn’t forget to go on sewing at her shirts.
So when the year was almost out, Snow-white and Rosy-red brought a
Prince into the world; and then the old Queen was more spiteful and
jealous than ever, and at dead of night, she stole in to Snow-white and
Rosy-red, while she slept, and took away her babe, and threw it into a
pitful of snakes. After that she cut Snow-white and Rosy-red in her
finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth, and went straight to the
King.
“Now come and see”, she said, “what sort of a thing you have taken for
your Queen; here she has eaten up her own babe.”
Then the King was so downcast, he almost burst into tears, and said:
“Yes, it must be true, since I see it with my own eyes; but she’ll not
do it again, I’m sure, and so this time I’ll spare her life.”
So before the next year was out she had another son, and the same thing
happened. The King’s stepmother got more and more jealous and spiteful.
She stole into the young Queen at night while she slept, took away the
babe, and threw it into a pit full of snakes, cut the young Queen’s
finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth, and then went and told
the King she had eaten up her own child. Then the King was so
sorrowful, you can’t think how sorry he was, and he said:
“Yes, it must be true, since I see it with my own eyes; but she’ll not
do it again, I’m sure, and so this time too I’ll spare her life.”
Well, before the next year was out, Snow-white and Rosy-red brought a
daughter into the world, and her, too, the old Queen took and threw
into the pit full of snakes, while the young Queen slept. Then she cut
her finger, smeared the blood over her mouth, and went again to the
King and said,
“Now you may come and see if it isn’t as I say; she’s a wicked, wicked
witch, for here she has gone and eaten up her third babe, too.”
Then the King was so sad, there was no end to it, for now he couldn’t
spare her any longer, but had to order her to be burnt alive on a pile
of wood. But just when the pile was all a-blaze, and they were going to
put her on it, she made signs to them to take twelve boards and lay
them round the pile, and on these she laid the neckerchiefs, and the
shirts, and the coats for her brothers, but the youngest brother’s
shirt wanted its left arm, for she hadn’t had time to finish it. And as
soon as ever she had done that, they heard such a flapping and whirring
in the air, and down came twelve wild ducks flying over the forest, and
each of them snapped up his clothes in his bill and flew off with them.
“See now!” said the old Queen to the King, “wasn’t I right when I told
you she was a witch, but make haste and burn her before the pile burns
low.”
“Oh!” said the King, “we’ve wood enough and to spare, and so I’ll wait
a bit, for I have a mind to see what the end of all this will be.”
As he spoke, up came the twelve princes riding along, as handsome
well-grown lads as you’d wish to see; but the youngest prince had a
wild duck’s wing instead of his left arm.
“What’s all this about?” asked the Princes.
“My Queen is to be burnt,” said the King, “because she’s a witch, and
because she has eaten up her own babes.”
“She hasn’t eaten them at all”, said the Princes. “Speak now, sister;
you have set us free and saved us, now save yourself.”
Then Snow-white and Rosy-red spoke, and told the whole story; how every
time she was brought to bed, the old Queen, the King’s stepmother, had
stolen into her at night, had taken her babes away, and cut her little
finger, and smeared the blood over her mouth; and then the Princes took
the King, and shewed him the snake-pit where three babes lay playing
with adders and toads, and lovelier children you never saw.
So the King had them taken out at once, and went to his stepmother, and
asked her what punishment she thought that woman deserved who could
find it in her heart to betray a guiltless Queen and three such blessed
little babes.
“She deserves to be fast bound between twelve unbroken steeds, so that
each may take his share of her”, said the old Queen.
“You have spoken your own doom”, said the King, “and you shall suffer
it at once.”
So the wicked old Queen was fast bound between twelve unbroken steeds,
and each got his share of her. But the King took Snow-white and
Rosy-red, and their three children, and the twelve Princes; and so they
all went home to their father and mother, and told all that had
befallen them, and there was joy and gladness over the whole kingdom,
because the Princess was saved and set free, and because she had set
free her twelve brothers.
