Ticklish&InLove
TMF Master
- Joined
- Mar 4, 2014
- Messages
- 957
- Points
- 0
The raider knights lie waiting for the new direction, knowing only that their task was to keep the princess and her knights trapped. They had stopped their attempts to draw her out due to losing their men each time they attempted to penetrate the forest, knowing she must come to them eventually if she hoped to make it to the mounds as her people had done.
Their stomachs growled with hunger as they didn’t dare go hunting for fear of the Golden Knight. So restless with hunger and thirst they came to attention quickly as four travelers approached them. The travelers carried an assortments of meats on their backs, recently caught rabbits, boar and stag. Their shoulders sported gourds which splashed in the moonlight, increasing the raider knights’ thirst. All four had black hair pulled back in the braided styles of local trappers and hunters. Their clothing was patched in multiple places and their shoes looked worn.
“Would you men like to purchase some of our winnings today, gentlemen?”, one of the trappers called out to the raider knights, “We normally sell everything by the time we make it this far north, but it seems the villages are all ghost towns. The maidens at the castle bought most of our yield and sent us here to you.”
The raider knights looked greedily on the travelers’ hard earned cache. Knowing they had no coins with which to purchase the items, they offered lies of payback.
Pretending to believe their word, the trappers got to work cutting the meats as the raider knights began their fires.
“Since you are such good customers, we will provide you with ale for free!”, they offered, sharing mugs all around.
The knights probably should have inquired as to how the gourds never ran out, but they were too greedy to relieve their parched lips and drink the tension away. The meats were delicious, but heavily salted, feeding the raider knight’s thirst and inducing them to drink more and more even as they went back for seconds, thirds and fourth helpings of what they described as flavors so sublime they were unearthly.
“So, you came by way of the castle, you say?”, one raider knight asked a trapper.
The man smiled, “Sure did.”, then winking added as he poured more ale into the raider knight’s mug, “Enjoyed my taste of the lovely maidens there too. Especially one Brigit Connelly. Aye, she was a sweet answer to a hungry man’s loins, I’ll tell ya!”
The raider knight’s eyes grew wide and he threw his mug at the trader, “How dare you! She is my sister!”
The trader laughed, ducking, “So sorry! I had no way of knowing! But you should know I’m not the first. I was told she hosts many of the travelers that come by way of the castle. In fact it was one of your own that has made quite a bit of money off her, yer know!”
Roaring, the raider knight grabbed the man by the collar, “Who! Tell me!”, waving his hand around at the group of men.
The traveler raised his hands in supplication, “I you donta mind me telling yer so, I’d much rather leave here alive, sir!”
The raider knight threw the traveler down, “Fine! I won’t harm a hair on your head. Now tell me who has made money off my sister!”
The traveler sat back and began counting on his fingers, “I do believe it was said Sir Joseph Williams, Sir Thomas Wilson, Sir Michael Nelson, Sir…”
The raider knight sputtered in fury at the names the traveler began to list and turned, pulling out his sword and ran towards his comrades.
A nearby raider knight laughed, “My, you are knowledgeable about the business in these parts aren’t you?”
The traveler turned and smiled, offering more ale to which the man gladly accepted, “You can’t have a mind for business without knowing your clients well, me lord. But he would be even more furious, I reckon if he knew many of the lads paid for his sisters services with goods stolen from the winnings of his regiment’s last raid.”, he winked at the shocked look the man gave him.
“What?!?!”, the man shrieked, thoroughly drunk, “I was part of that raid. As were Paul, Steven and Jacob here.”, he hooked his thumb in their direction. The other men turned, leaning in to listen to why their names had been mentioned.
The traveler smirked, obviously proud to be the bearer of new gossip and leaned forward as he refilled their mugs with ale, “Well then you should know that many of your men here have used up the winnings of your hard work to treat themselves to Sara Bell, Susan Dale and Mary Johnson as well.”, seeing them horrified as they recognized their sister’s names, he added with a wink, “I hear your commander is the highest payer!”
Furious, the men rushed the commander of their regiment, leaving very little time for the man to defend himself, killing him before then turning towards the others they believed involved. Other raider knights shouted demanding to learn why they were angered so, and receiving answers, also turned on those accused.
Similar exchanges were occurring around the campsite as the other three traveling traders let loose gossip from the castle while generously keeping the raider knight’s mugs full. Before long, the field was a battle zone, blood spilt in the name of honor by those lacking none.
Pretending to fear for their lives, the four traveling traders left their things and ran for the forest, ignored by the raider knights now fully bloodrunk. Before they reached the trees, not a single raider knight remained. Walking slowly into the woods, the traveling traders’ looks of terror turned into contented smiles belieing a secret. Their clothing shimmered and seemed to fall apart into golden dust, the patches giving way to fine cloths and armor. All but one’s hair changed color as Leannán Dóiteáin reached to let loose his mane that grew wild past his knees. Together, they met up with the princess and her nights who looked back at them dazed.
“Remind me never to anger you, red one, “, she whispered in awe of his trickery.
Leannán Dóiteáin’s smile turned from content to playfully devilish as he winked flirtatiously at the princess, “In case you have not guessed, I am the court jester for your husband, my lady.”, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, is tale slipping easily under her armor, “So you will not mind then, as I take my responsibilities to amuse you seriously over the next several hours?”, he teased, his tail tickling her stomach and sides while he used his claws to pull off the metal shoes from her feet and began tickling her ruthlessly.
The princess tried to protest but could only toll about helplessly, her desperate looks and giggles making her knights and the other dragons laugh.
She pleaded in her mind to Leannán Dóiteáin, “Not here! Not now! Not in front of them when are facing an enemy!”
Leannán Dóiteáin’s eyes looked down lovingly at her, answering out loud, “Yes here, my queen, for never was there a greater need for the sound of your laughter than this moment. Yes now, my queen for your heart should dance on your wedding night. And yes, in front of your knights, for they all secretly love the sound of your laughter. It lifts their hearts to hear it, almost as much as it will make your enemies tremble to know you can laugh so easily when they are camping nearby.”
The other dragons smirked, lingering just a little while, enraptured by the sound. But soon, began leading groups of knights towards the mounds, transforming into their full glorious forms, but flying low to the ground as they carried groups of twenty each into the mounds and over the corpses of the raider knights who had slain themselves.
Meanwhile, the leader of the raider knights caught up to his scouts who were camped along the shore and looking up in fear above them to where the edge of the great forest grew on the cliffs, overlooking the waters. Disgusted at his men for trembling at he sounds of a woman laughing madly, he called them to attention, “Stop cowering and report. What have you heard from our brothers?”
“That’s just it, my lord!”, one shook his head, his eyes wide with terror, “It appears they all killed each other by their own hands! This is a cursed place, my lord! Let us leave here now!”
At that moment another shriek of escalating feminine laughter came out of the forest where carried by the costal winds, seemed to come from all directions.
“It must be the princess, my lord!”, the other scout quivered, “She must be a witch! Earlier this night we witnessed the moonlight coming out from the forest! She called it down, my lord!”, he grabbed onto the leader of the raider knight’s garments, “You must not marry her! You must let us leave this cursed place!”
“He tells the truth, he does.”, a voice rang out behind them.
They turned to see a fisherman emerge from the fog along the banks, using a pole to come to shore. The man looked the raider knights up and down, appraising them without fear, “It will always be a cursed land for yer fellers.”
The leader of the raider knights stepped forward defiantly, his hand on his sword, threatening, “And who would you be to tell us this?”
The fisherman just waved a hand at the knight’s threat laughing, “If you need a sword to feel safe when approaching an old man you are no threat to anyone.”, then turning, and pulling his boat on shore he added, “I’m just a simple fisherman who’s lived in these parts my whole life. My family goes back here as long as we can recollect. This land has always had room for dragons and fae and people aplenty. Why every one of us has got der blood in our veins.”, he picked up the pole he’d been using to maneuver his raft and now used it to lean on as he walked closer to the fire the raider knights had set up. Only when he came close to the flames did they see the wooden pole had a serpent carved up its length, twisting around seven times.
Leaning on it, he smiled, looking up at the stars, “I understand your new beliefs speak of a fisherman of men.”, then looking down on the sandy earth he drew a flower made of concentric circles, each meeting from a central point.
“That looks like the window of the cathedrals on the mainland!”, one of the raider knights exclaimed.
“Aye,” the fisherman smiled, “Ever wonder why your fisherman of men told his followers to cast their nets on the other side?”
“No. Why would we ponder such things?”, the leader of the raider knights answered angrily.
The fisherman chuckled, lifting a brow in turn, “Why indeed, sir. Mysteries are invitations into learning. Learning leads to understanding. Understanding leads to appreciation. Appreciation leads to Wisdom. Your fisherman knew that.”
He smiled, adding, “Keep the fish. Consider it thanks for sharing the warmth of yer fire.”, and began to walk towards the mountain.
Not seeing any place for him to go, the leader of the raider knights called after him, “Where are you going, little man?”
The fisherman didn’t turn around, instead he answered while walking slowly into the mists, “Where I once witnessed the love of opposites. For if a dragon and dragon slayer can be wed, then there is hope for us all.”
The leader of the raider knights began to run after him, “Wait! What marriage is this! This cannot be! It is not holy!”
The fisherman was now completely lost to him due to the thickening mists, and when they cleared, the man could only stare dumbfounded at a cliff of sheer white stone. Yet the fisherman’s voice seemed to echo down to him as if amplified in a tunnel, “Think ye are the first to lay claim to a land that is not yer own? Think ye are the first to force away the traditions of ancients under blade, blood and fire? You’ve set your own course now. You must sail it.”
The raider knights watched, jaws agape as the mists covered their leader as he turned around. They heard him call out for help, needing their voices to help him find his way back.
But in that moment luminous figures of beautiful women bathed in moonlight walked out of the ocean towards them, fingers insisting on silence as they approached. On the other side the Dragon King rode up on his horse, his blue hair billowing in the wind, his new queen, her helmet off, wind blowing her red hair behind him, sat radiantly in her gold armor. The two didn’t look angry, but rather compassionately at the men.
She spoke, her voice carried past them and echoing off the cliffs so that the leader of the raider knights heard it as if she stood beside him, “If you mean to rule this land, remember the lessons found here. Hide them in your own stories. Tell them down through generations. Let the world bear witness that in this sacred place and time a balance was forged between dragon and man, between fae and mortal, between warrior and lover. And when the day comes that you begin to question, begin to feel a longing for what you would choose to discard this night, know you can find the answers in this land, whispering in the mounds.”, then holding out her hand, she offered, “For those who would now join in the ancient wisdom, wash away the blood you have shed across lands in the ocean, and follow me now into the service of all things. For those who would rather rule among men, never forget what you have learned today.”
The moonlight touched the surface of the ocean which stilled into a perfect mirrored surface of stars. Slowly, each raider knight cast aside their weapons, tearing off their cloaks and armor and taking the hands of the fae, followed them and the couple into the ocean, their horses walking beside them.
When the leader of the raider knights could finally see through the cleared fog, he arrived at the campfire just in time to see the Dragon King and his queen, the Golden Knight disappearing beneath its surface. His fellow raider knights clothing was left strewn across the banks, their footprints leading into the ocean.
Standing in silence, he fell on his knees, feeling for once, utterly alone, and wept.
“Why so said, my son?”, he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.
The raider knight looked up into the eyes of a monk who wore a garb that seemed more covered in patches than not.
“I have lost everything. I have failed.”
The monk sat down by the fire, his eyebrows going up as he looked down at the flower the fisherman had drawn and chuckled, “Before I was humiliated I was like a stone that lies in deep mud, and he who is mighty came and in his compassion raised me up and exalted me very high and placed me on the top of the wall.”
The raider knight looked up and shook his head, “Father, you sound like the crazy people in this place!”
Laughing the man pulled out a parchment and picking up a piece of burnt wood from the fire, drew a copy of the pattern the fisherman had left, asking, “Who drew this flower of life here?”
The raider knight couldn’t believe the monk was asking such an inane question while so many inexplicable things had just occurred, were occurring, around them. He answered impatiently, “Some local fisherman did.”
The monk began laughing, “Oh, of course he did.”, and shook his head.
The raider knight stood up in fury, kicking at the drawing left in the sand, “I was sent here! I was told to marry the princess! I was told to secure the throne! I am a leader of an army!”
The monk looked around at the cast off armor and clothes, his eyes silently following the many footsteps leading the water and silently continued to listen to the man’s ravings.
“I’m the one who is to lead these people! I’m the one who is meant to be lord over this land and all those in it! I’m the one who is to sit in judgement over their sinful heathen ways! I’m the one who…”
The monk raised his hand for silence.
The raider knight felt embarrassed and sat down beside the father.
“You are certainly impressive, my son.”, the monk smiled compassionately, though his eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Who are you?”, the raider knight balked back.
The monk merely shrugged, answering in soft quiet tones, “I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many.”
The raider knight fell down on his knees, shame washing over him.
“Let me ask you one thing,” the simple monk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Did in all your wanderings seek to serve or merely seek to own what and who you saw?”
When the raider knight didn’t answer, the monk chuckled again, “It is easy to humiliate oneself when seeking only to serve oneself.”
As he stood up the ocean waves washed the Dragon King’s chalice and his queen’s blade up onto the banks. Bending to pick them up, the monk crossed himself and whispered thanks.
“How can you give thanks for those things belonging to fae!”, the raider knight barked accusingly at the man.
The monk pocket the items and ignoring the man’s ravings asked, “Where did the fisherman go? I should like to learn from him. He obviously understands much.”
“He went to the cliffs over there and disappeared! But what does it matter? He is a sinner! He should be burnt! He should be purged! This land should all be purged!”
The monk ignored the ravings of the crazed knight as he walked towards the cliffs, his eyes clearly discerning the hidden staircase the fisherman must have taken and climbing them as the mists again rolled in.
“Wait! Tell me why you are so serene! Tell me how you can respect these heathens while at the same time you seek to convert them! Tell me how you lead thousands without fear!”, the knight screamed after him despite having lost sight of him.
The monk’s voice echoed down around him the same way the fisherman’s had, “The Lord opened the understanding of my unbelieving heart, so that I should recall my sins.”
Dumbstruck, the raider knight caught himself for the first time thinking upon all the horrific things he had done across lands before reaching the green island. Now without transportation, he did the only thing he could, taking the boat and paddling with a piece of driftwood along the shore towards the castle.
Along the route he came across some of the villagers who had not gone into the mounds. Hungry, they asked for some of his fish and feeling steeped in remorse, he shared what he had with them. During the week he traveled he found himself wanting to catch more fish so as to have food to share for the next port. People began to speak of him and locals greeted him with baked breads, stews and forest mushrooms and herbs. By the time he reached the castle, it had been a week and the land was beginning to come to life again. When he pulled up onto shore, he was a changed man. Waiting for him on the shore stood the midwife and fisherman on either side of the monk. The three smiled compassionately at him before turning to walk towards the castle.
The raider knight followed wordlessly, his head hung in shame, but his heart feeling lighter than before. On his way into the castle gates his eyes made contact with the old beggar he had once ordered killed for loitering. He fell in front of him crying. The beggar merely chuckled and said, “I’m glad you have learned to cast your nets on the other side, my king.”
The raider knight lifted his head in shock, “But I have not married the princess!”
The beggar winked, “You will marry the land. The princess and the land are now one. You have finally fought and defeated your own dragon.”
The raider knight looked up and saw the midwife, monk and fisherman smiling the same knowing smile as the beggar wore.
The three hugged the beggar.
The midwife spoke, gesturing to the fisherman, “We still have a few years yet before we pass into the mounds. Tell our Queen we will help Patrick find ways to hide the old ways inside the new.”
The raider knight realized with a start that the monk now wore an amulet about his neck that held both the design the fisherman had drawn and filled in some of the lines to reveal a four leaf clover.
“Are you ready to lead, my son?”, the monk asked.
The raider knight removed his armor, casting his shield and sword into the moat and knelt before the four of them, “No, I am ready to serve.”
“Good, then turn and look upon the lands you will serve.”, the monk intoned.
The man turned to face the other side of the moat and was surprised to see the beggar was now on the other side waving beneath the canopy of woods. He then watched as the beggar transformed into a young Sir Henry and the Fairy Queen emerged to stand by his side. The Dragon King emerged with the princess in her golden armor encircled in his arms. Breathtaking women surrounded in glowing white light came out of the waters, the trees and danced with the villagers who had disappeared. Creatures that were half dragon and half men teased and played with the women and fae alike. The Dragon King winked at those opposite their side of the moat and with a mischievous smirk began to tickle the princess who bent over laughing madly. The raider knight found himself chuckling along with them, enchanted by the way the forest seemed to laugh with her, its birds, butterflies and branches shivering in time with the joyful sound.
In the midst of her giggling tears she looked up and met his eyes, “Lead wisely from the heart, Bran the Blessed.”
His heart beat faster and a fire churned within his deepest core as the figures faded away, “My God! What have I done?”, he gasped.
“What you feel is love, Bran. You are indeed blessed, for you are now in love with the world. You will serve it well. Their time has moved on. There will be a time ours does too. But the wisdom does not change. Only the way in which it is spoken will change.”, the midwife answered sweetly.
He turned to her, “Why are you here? Don’t you want to be with them?”
“And so I will. But I am a midwife. I help people give birth to things. And you will be giving birth to a new world.”
*************************************************************************************************
So you see my darling, the tales of dragons, knights and fae are not always accurate. You would have had to be there to know what I know. Bran the Blessed was a wise king indeed, and Patrick became known as a saint, famous for his shamrock to this day. Eventually Bran would be slain and insist his head be taken back to England. The people say he continued talking with his men during the whole journey and even enjoyed hanging out with them for the 80 years they spent on the island of Gwales a place without sorrow or pain. It was the least we could do for the poor lad who had had such a hard start in life, you see. If they had never opened the door facing Cornwall, they would still be living in paradise, shrouded by fae. But you humans are never satisfied with paradise are you? No not really. If you have no challenges, you create them for yourself. The minute that door was opened the island moved from straddling the lands of fae and mortal into being squarely of this realm, what you now call Grassholm Island.
But good ol’ Bran did a good job, he did. And Patrick got a kick out of people saying he rid the green island of serpents. For there never were any serpents in the green isle. Truth was the man was a serpent himself, he was. He often talked of converting the heathen. But we knew better, for he could be found dancing under the moon and praising his God for the fireflies, birds and clover under his bare feet. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him himself if you like. His spirit loves the isle as much as any member of the Tuatha de Danaan ever did.
Some people are born in the green isle, you see, while others are born with the green isle inside their souls. Those people see runes where others see cracks in stone. Those people spy ancient staircases awaiting discovery while others see nothing but rising unwelcoming cliffs. People say there are ancient places where you can enter the land of fae. They make pilgrimages to our mounds, try and reenact the rituals of old in the stone circles we left behind. But I’ll tell you a secret if you’re brave enough…
We’ve never left. We are in every rock, tree and blade of grass. We still soar inside your dreams and whisper into your consciousness. Got an inkling, a strange intuition that you should try something new or avoid a certain path? That’s us, my dear. If you’ve ever felt it, then you too may have the aptitude like the princess did to hear dragon-speak.
So now you know how the Tuatha de Danann left the green isle and gave your kind a chance to discover the sacred balance for yourselves without our guidance, a chance to both be, and to be the fighters of, your own dragons. I hope you figure things out soon enough, as you are making quite a mess of things so far. But if you can hear me. If you’ve read this far, perhaps you can hear the wisdom hidden in this tale, the golden thread woven secretly for those with the hearts to hear it. Take it. Weave it into your own tapestry. Magick, unlike the magician’s trickery, is a matter of consciousness – become consciously aware of how you create the world around you and you will become the author of your own story.
That’s what I tell my wife each time she worries about leaving humanity to your own devices. I’ve been telling her that for centuries you see. Which reminds me, I should be getting back to her soon, as retelling this tale has made me hungry for the sound of her laughter…
Their stomachs growled with hunger as they didn’t dare go hunting for fear of the Golden Knight. So restless with hunger and thirst they came to attention quickly as four travelers approached them. The travelers carried an assortments of meats on their backs, recently caught rabbits, boar and stag. Their shoulders sported gourds which splashed in the moonlight, increasing the raider knights’ thirst. All four had black hair pulled back in the braided styles of local trappers and hunters. Their clothing was patched in multiple places and their shoes looked worn.
“Would you men like to purchase some of our winnings today, gentlemen?”, one of the trappers called out to the raider knights, “We normally sell everything by the time we make it this far north, but it seems the villages are all ghost towns. The maidens at the castle bought most of our yield and sent us here to you.”
The raider knights looked greedily on the travelers’ hard earned cache. Knowing they had no coins with which to purchase the items, they offered lies of payback.
Pretending to believe their word, the trappers got to work cutting the meats as the raider knights began their fires.
“Since you are such good customers, we will provide you with ale for free!”, they offered, sharing mugs all around.
The knights probably should have inquired as to how the gourds never ran out, but they were too greedy to relieve their parched lips and drink the tension away. The meats were delicious, but heavily salted, feeding the raider knight’s thirst and inducing them to drink more and more even as they went back for seconds, thirds and fourth helpings of what they described as flavors so sublime they were unearthly.
“So, you came by way of the castle, you say?”, one raider knight asked a trapper.
The man smiled, “Sure did.”, then winking added as he poured more ale into the raider knight’s mug, “Enjoyed my taste of the lovely maidens there too. Especially one Brigit Connelly. Aye, she was a sweet answer to a hungry man’s loins, I’ll tell ya!”
The raider knight’s eyes grew wide and he threw his mug at the trader, “How dare you! She is my sister!”
The trader laughed, ducking, “So sorry! I had no way of knowing! But you should know I’m not the first. I was told she hosts many of the travelers that come by way of the castle. In fact it was one of your own that has made quite a bit of money off her, yer know!”
Roaring, the raider knight grabbed the man by the collar, “Who! Tell me!”, waving his hand around at the group of men.
The traveler raised his hands in supplication, “I you donta mind me telling yer so, I’d much rather leave here alive, sir!”
The raider knight threw the traveler down, “Fine! I won’t harm a hair on your head. Now tell me who has made money off my sister!”
The traveler sat back and began counting on his fingers, “I do believe it was said Sir Joseph Williams, Sir Thomas Wilson, Sir Michael Nelson, Sir…”
The raider knight sputtered in fury at the names the traveler began to list and turned, pulling out his sword and ran towards his comrades.
A nearby raider knight laughed, “My, you are knowledgeable about the business in these parts aren’t you?”
The traveler turned and smiled, offering more ale to which the man gladly accepted, “You can’t have a mind for business without knowing your clients well, me lord. But he would be even more furious, I reckon if he knew many of the lads paid for his sisters services with goods stolen from the winnings of his regiment’s last raid.”, he winked at the shocked look the man gave him.
“What?!?!”, the man shrieked, thoroughly drunk, “I was part of that raid. As were Paul, Steven and Jacob here.”, he hooked his thumb in their direction. The other men turned, leaning in to listen to why their names had been mentioned.
The traveler smirked, obviously proud to be the bearer of new gossip and leaned forward as he refilled their mugs with ale, “Well then you should know that many of your men here have used up the winnings of your hard work to treat themselves to Sara Bell, Susan Dale and Mary Johnson as well.”, seeing them horrified as they recognized their sister’s names, he added with a wink, “I hear your commander is the highest payer!”
Furious, the men rushed the commander of their regiment, leaving very little time for the man to defend himself, killing him before then turning towards the others they believed involved. Other raider knights shouted demanding to learn why they were angered so, and receiving answers, also turned on those accused.
Similar exchanges were occurring around the campsite as the other three traveling traders let loose gossip from the castle while generously keeping the raider knight’s mugs full. Before long, the field was a battle zone, blood spilt in the name of honor by those lacking none.
Pretending to fear for their lives, the four traveling traders left their things and ran for the forest, ignored by the raider knights now fully bloodrunk. Before they reached the trees, not a single raider knight remained. Walking slowly into the woods, the traveling traders’ looks of terror turned into contented smiles belieing a secret. Their clothing shimmered and seemed to fall apart into golden dust, the patches giving way to fine cloths and armor. All but one’s hair changed color as Leannán Dóiteáin reached to let loose his mane that grew wild past his knees. Together, they met up with the princess and her nights who looked back at them dazed.
“Remind me never to anger you, red one, “, she whispered in awe of his trickery.
Leannán Dóiteáin’s smile turned from content to playfully devilish as he winked flirtatiously at the princess, “In case you have not guessed, I am the court jester for your husband, my lady.”, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, is tale slipping easily under her armor, “So you will not mind then, as I take my responsibilities to amuse you seriously over the next several hours?”, he teased, his tail tickling her stomach and sides while he used his claws to pull off the metal shoes from her feet and began tickling her ruthlessly.
The princess tried to protest but could only toll about helplessly, her desperate looks and giggles making her knights and the other dragons laugh.
She pleaded in her mind to Leannán Dóiteáin, “Not here! Not now! Not in front of them when are facing an enemy!”
Leannán Dóiteáin’s eyes looked down lovingly at her, answering out loud, “Yes here, my queen, for never was there a greater need for the sound of your laughter than this moment. Yes now, my queen for your heart should dance on your wedding night. And yes, in front of your knights, for they all secretly love the sound of your laughter. It lifts their hearts to hear it, almost as much as it will make your enemies tremble to know you can laugh so easily when they are camping nearby.”
The other dragons smirked, lingering just a little while, enraptured by the sound. But soon, began leading groups of knights towards the mounds, transforming into their full glorious forms, but flying low to the ground as they carried groups of twenty each into the mounds and over the corpses of the raider knights who had slain themselves.
Meanwhile, the leader of the raider knights caught up to his scouts who were camped along the shore and looking up in fear above them to where the edge of the great forest grew on the cliffs, overlooking the waters. Disgusted at his men for trembling at he sounds of a woman laughing madly, he called them to attention, “Stop cowering and report. What have you heard from our brothers?”
“That’s just it, my lord!”, one shook his head, his eyes wide with terror, “It appears they all killed each other by their own hands! This is a cursed place, my lord! Let us leave here now!”
At that moment another shriek of escalating feminine laughter came out of the forest where carried by the costal winds, seemed to come from all directions.
“It must be the princess, my lord!”, the other scout quivered, “She must be a witch! Earlier this night we witnessed the moonlight coming out from the forest! She called it down, my lord!”, he grabbed onto the leader of the raider knight’s garments, “You must not marry her! You must let us leave this cursed place!”
“He tells the truth, he does.”, a voice rang out behind them.
They turned to see a fisherman emerge from the fog along the banks, using a pole to come to shore. The man looked the raider knights up and down, appraising them without fear, “It will always be a cursed land for yer fellers.”
The leader of the raider knights stepped forward defiantly, his hand on his sword, threatening, “And who would you be to tell us this?”
The fisherman just waved a hand at the knight’s threat laughing, “If you need a sword to feel safe when approaching an old man you are no threat to anyone.”, then turning, and pulling his boat on shore he added, “I’m just a simple fisherman who’s lived in these parts my whole life. My family goes back here as long as we can recollect. This land has always had room for dragons and fae and people aplenty. Why every one of us has got der blood in our veins.”, he picked up the pole he’d been using to maneuver his raft and now used it to lean on as he walked closer to the fire the raider knights had set up. Only when he came close to the flames did they see the wooden pole had a serpent carved up its length, twisting around seven times.
Leaning on it, he smiled, looking up at the stars, “I understand your new beliefs speak of a fisherman of men.”, then looking down on the sandy earth he drew a flower made of concentric circles, each meeting from a central point.
“That looks like the window of the cathedrals on the mainland!”, one of the raider knights exclaimed.
“Aye,” the fisherman smiled, “Ever wonder why your fisherman of men told his followers to cast their nets on the other side?”
“No. Why would we ponder such things?”, the leader of the raider knights answered angrily.
The fisherman chuckled, lifting a brow in turn, “Why indeed, sir. Mysteries are invitations into learning. Learning leads to understanding. Understanding leads to appreciation. Appreciation leads to Wisdom. Your fisherman knew that.”
He smiled, adding, “Keep the fish. Consider it thanks for sharing the warmth of yer fire.”, and began to walk towards the mountain.
Not seeing any place for him to go, the leader of the raider knights called after him, “Where are you going, little man?”
The fisherman didn’t turn around, instead he answered while walking slowly into the mists, “Where I once witnessed the love of opposites. For if a dragon and dragon slayer can be wed, then there is hope for us all.”
The leader of the raider knights began to run after him, “Wait! What marriage is this! This cannot be! It is not holy!”
The fisherman was now completely lost to him due to the thickening mists, and when they cleared, the man could only stare dumbfounded at a cliff of sheer white stone. Yet the fisherman’s voice seemed to echo down to him as if amplified in a tunnel, “Think ye are the first to lay claim to a land that is not yer own? Think ye are the first to force away the traditions of ancients under blade, blood and fire? You’ve set your own course now. You must sail it.”
The raider knights watched, jaws agape as the mists covered their leader as he turned around. They heard him call out for help, needing their voices to help him find his way back.
But in that moment luminous figures of beautiful women bathed in moonlight walked out of the ocean towards them, fingers insisting on silence as they approached. On the other side the Dragon King rode up on his horse, his blue hair billowing in the wind, his new queen, her helmet off, wind blowing her red hair behind him, sat radiantly in her gold armor. The two didn’t look angry, but rather compassionately at the men.
She spoke, her voice carried past them and echoing off the cliffs so that the leader of the raider knights heard it as if she stood beside him, “If you mean to rule this land, remember the lessons found here. Hide them in your own stories. Tell them down through generations. Let the world bear witness that in this sacred place and time a balance was forged between dragon and man, between fae and mortal, between warrior and lover. And when the day comes that you begin to question, begin to feel a longing for what you would choose to discard this night, know you can find the answers in this land, whispering in the mounds.”, then holding out her hand, she offered, “For those who would now join in the ancient wisdom, wash away the blood you have shed across lands in the ocean, and follow me now into the service of all things. For those who would rather rule among men, never forget what you have learned today.”
The moonlight touched the surface of the ocean which stilled into a perfect mirrored surface of stars. Slowly, each raider knight cast aside their weapons, tearing off their cloaks and armor and taking the hands of the fae, followed them and the couple into the ocean, their horses walking beside them.
When the leader of the raider knights could finally see through the cleared fog, he arrived at the campfire just in time to see the Dragon King and his queen, the Golden Knight disappearing beneath its surface. His fellow raider knights clothing was left strewn across the banks, their footprints leading into the ocean.
Standing in silence, he fell on his knees, feeling for once, utterly alone, and wept.
“Why so said, my son?”, he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.
The raider knight looked up into the eyes of a monk who wore a garb that seemed more covered in patches than not.
“I have lost everything. I have failed.”
The monk sat down by the fire, his eyebrows going up as he looked down at the flower the fisherman had drawn and chuckled, “Before I was humiliated I was like a stone that lies in deep mud, and he who is mighty came and in his compassion raised me up and exalted me very high and placed me on the top of the wall.”
The raider knight looked up and shook his head, “Father, you sound like the crazy people in this place!”
Laughing the man pulled out a parchment and picking up a piece of burnt wood from the fire, drew a copy of the pattern the fisherman had left, asking, “Who drew this flower of life here?”
The raider knight couldn’t believe the monk was asking such an inane question while so many inexplicable things had just occurred, were occurring, around them. He answered impatiently, “Some local fisherman did.”
The monk began laughing, “Oh, of course he did.”, and shook his head.
The raider knight stood up in fury, kicking at the drawing left in the sand, “I was sent here! I was told to marry the princess! I was told to secure the throne! I am a leader of an army!”
The monk looked around at the cast off armor and clothes, his eyes silently following the many footsteps leading the water and silently continued to listen to the man’s ravings.
“I’m the one who is to lead these people! I’m the one who is meant to be lord over this land and all those in it! I’m the one who is to sit in judgement over their sinful heathen ways! I’m the one who…”
The monk raised his hand for silence.
The raider knight felt embarrassed and sat down beside the father.
“You are certainly impressive, my son.”, the monk smiled compassionately, though his eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Who are you?”, the raider knight balked back.
The monk merely shrugged, answering in soft quiet tones, “I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many.”
The raider knight fell down on his knees, shame washing over him.
“Let me ask you one thing,” the simple monk placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Did in all your wanderings seek to serve or merely seek to own what and who you saw?”
When the raider knight didn’t answer, the monk chuckled again, “It is easy to humiliate oneself when seeking only to serve oneself.”
As he stood up the ocean waves washed the Dragon King’s chalice and his queen’s blade up onto the banks. Bending to pick them up, the monk crossed himself and whispered thanks.
“How can you give thanks for those things belonging to fae!”, the raider knight barked accusingly at the man.
The monk pocket the items and ignoring the man’s ravings asked, “Where did the fisherman go? I should like to learn from him. He obviously understands much.”
“He went to the cliffs over there and disappeared! But what does it matter? He is a sinner! He should be burnt! He should be purged! This land should all be purged!”
The monk ignored the ravings of the crazed knight as he walked towards the cliffs, his eyes clearly discerning the hidden staircase the fisherman must have taken and climbing them as the mists again rolled in.
“Wait! Tell me why you are so serene! Tell me how you can respect these heathens while at the same time you seek to convert them! Tell me how you lead thousands without fear!”, the knight screamed after him despite having lost sight of him.
The monk’s voice echoed down around him the same way the fisherman’s had, “The Lord opened the understanding of my unbelieving heart, so that I should recall my sins.”
Dumbstruck, the raider knight caught himself for the first time thinking upon all the horrific things he had done across lands before reaching the green island. Now without transportation, he did the only thing he could, taking the boat and paddling with a piece of driftwood along the shore towards the castle.
Along the route he came across some of the villagers who had not gone into the mounds. Hungry, they asked for some of his fish and feeling steeped in remorse, he shared what he had with them. During the week he traveled he found himself wanting to catch more fish so as to have food to share for the next port. People began to speak of him and locals greeted him with baked breads, stews and forest mushrooms and herbs. By the time he reached the castle, it had been a week and the land was beginning to come to life again. When he pulled up onto shore, he was a changed man. Waiting for him on the shore stood the midwife and fisherman on either side of the monk. The three smiled compassionately at him before turning to walk towards the castle.
The raider knight followed wordlessly, his head hung in shame, but his heart feeling lighter than before. On his way into the castle gates his eyes made contact with the old beggar he had once ordered killed for loitering. He fell in front of him crying. The beggar merely chuckled and said, “I’m glad you have learned to cast your nets on the other side, my king.”
The raider knight lifted his head in shock, “But I have not married the princess!”
The beggar winked, “You will marry the land. The princess and the land are now one. You have finally fought and defeated your own dragon.”
The raider knight looked up and saw the midwife, monk and fisherman smiling the same knowing smile as the beggar wore.
The three hugged the beggar.
The midwife spoke, gesturing to the fisherman, “We still have a few years yet before we pass into the mounds. Tell our Queen we will help Patrick find ways to hide the old ways inside the new.”
The raider knight realized with a start that the monk now wore an amulet about his neck that held both the design the fisherman had drawn and filled in some of the lines to reveal a four leaf clover.
“Are you ready to lead, my son?”, the monk asked.
The raider knight removed his armor, casting his shield and sword into the moat and knelt before the four of them, “No, I am ready to serve.”
“Good, then turn and look upon the lands you will serve.”, the monk intoned.
The man turned to face the other side of the moat and was surprised to see the beggar was now on the other side waving beneath the canopy of woods. He then watched as the beggar transformed into a young Sir Henry and the Fairy Queen emerged to stand by his side. The Dragon King emerged with the princess in her golden armor encircled in his arms. Breathtaking women surrounded in glowing white light came out of the waters, the trees and danced with the villagers who had disappeared. Creatures that were half dragon and half men teased and played with the women and fae alike. The Dragon King winked at those opposite their side of the moat and with a mischievous smirk began to tickle the princess who bent over laughing madly. The raider knight found himself chuckling along with them, enchanted by the way the forest seemed to laugh with her, its birds, butterflies and branches shivering in time with the joyful sound.
In the midst of her giggling tears she looked up and met his eyes, “Lead wisely from the heart, Bran the Blessed.”
His heart beat faster and a fire churned within his deepest core as the figures faded away, “My God! What have I done?”, he gasped.
“What you feel is love, Bran. You are indeed blessed, for you are now in love with the world. You will serve it well. Their time has moved on. There will be a time ours does too. But the wisdom does not change. Only the way in which it is spoken will change.”, the midwife answered sweetly.
He turned to her, “Why are you here? Don’t you want to be with them?”
“And so I will. But I am a midwife. I help people give birth to things. And you will be giving birth to a new world.”
*************************************************************************************************
So you see my darling, the tales of dragons, knights and fae are not always accurate. You would have had to be there to know what I know. Bran the Blessed was a wise king indeed, and Patrick became known as a saint, famous for his shamrock to this day. Eventually Bran would be slain and insist his head be taken back to England. The people say he continued talking with his men during the whole journey and even enjoyed hanging out with them for the 80 years they spent on the island of Gwales a place without sorrow or pain. It was the least we could do for the poor lad who had had such a hard start in life, you see. If they had never opened the door facing Cornwall, they would still be living in paradise, shrouded by fae. But you humans are never satisfied with paradise are you? No not really. If you have no challenges, you create them for yourself. The minute that door was opened the island moved from straddling the lands of fae and mortal into being squarely of this realm, what you now call Grassholm Island.
But good ol’ Bran did a good job, he did. And Patrick got a kick out of people saying he rid the green island of serpents. For there never were any serpents in the green isle. Truth was the man was a serpent himself, he was. He often talked of converting the heathen. But we knew better, for he could be found dancing under the moon and praising his God for the fireflies, birds and clover under his bare feet. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him himself if you like. His spirit loves the isle as much as any member of the Tuatha de Danaan ever did.
Some people are born in the green isle, you see, while others are born with the green isle inside their souls. Those people see runes where others see cracks in stone. Those people spy ancient staircases awaiting discovery while others see nothing but rising unwelcoming cliffs. People say there are ancient places where you can enter the land of fae. They make pilgrimages to our mounds, try and reenact the rituals of old in the stone circles we left behind. But I’ll tell you a secret if you’re brave enough…
We’ve never left. We are in every rock, tree and blade of grass. We still soar inside your dreams and whisper into your consciousness. Got an inkling, a strange intuition that you should try something new or avoid a certain path? That’s us, my dear. If you’ve ever felt it, then you too may have the aptitude like the princess did to hear dragon-speak.
So now you know how the Tuatha de Danann left the green isle and gave your kind a chance to discover the sacred balance for yourselves without our guidance, a chance to both be, and to be the fighters of, your own dragons. I hope you figure things out soon enough, as you are making quite a mess of things so far. But if you can hear me. If you’ve read this far, perhaps you can hear the wisdom hidden in this tale, the golden thread woven secretly for those with the hearts to hear it. Take it. Weave it into your own tapestry. Magick, unlike the magician’s trickery, is a matter of consciousness – become consciously aware of how you create the world around you and you will become the author of your own story.
That’s what I tell my wife each time she worries about leaving humanity to your own devices. I’ve been telling her that for centuries you see. Which reminds me, I should be getting back to her soon, as retelling this tale has made me hungry for the sound of her laughter…
