This is called "Family Romance."
And as many of you probably know,
that's a term used in psychoanalysis
for the kind of fantasy that children
have about their real parents who
may have been Kings and Queens or whatever,
but who are not these two people whom
they're stuck with in reality.
"We lost our mother, and our father was the King, always
absent at the wars.
We had to make it together or not at all.
In the Black Forest--
cutting paths, stumbling on the witch's house, long empty.
Gathering wood and mushrooms, gathering everything
we needed in a wordless collusion.
Sometimes we pretended the witch had been our mother
and would come back.
We loved each other with a passion
understood like the great roots of the wood.
In another country we might have fought each other
and died of fraternal wounds, conspiring,
each alone, for the father's blessing, the birthright,
the mother.
Since we had no father to bless us, we were free,
and our birthright was each other.
Our life was harsh and simple.
We slept deeply.
And we thought our mother came and watched us sleeping."