A Royal Gift

It was evening, and Taran was silent.

It had been a week since the Golden Ships had sailed, carrying most of the companions of his youth out to the lands where there was neither death nor sorrow. The consequences of his choice still weighed upon him, as they always would. But as conscience had been clear then, when he had made his decision, so too was it clear now. As much as his heart yearned to see the face of Dallben again, of Fflewddur, of Gurgi, of Llyan, of Gwydion-

Yes, even of Glew.

He smiled at the thought, and his eyes strayed to the low shelf in the cottage where he had placed his friends' parting gifts.

He would always treasure them. But at the end of the day, he didn't need them to remember his friends. As much as his heart yearned to see their faces once more, he would always have his memories of them to cherish, to nurture until the earth took him once more.

He glanced across the room at Eilonwy, who was uncharacteristically quiet. She seated upon a stool and was bent over a half-ruined banner, examining it carefully.

Taran stood up and headed towards her until he was looking over her shoulder.

"Fixing Hen Wen's eyes?" he asked.

"I do wish you wouldn't stare over my shoulder like that," Eilonwy snorted. "It's like having a fly constantly buzzing about your face when you're trying to concentrate on reading."

Taran chuckled.

"It's not funny!" Eilonwy protested. "I'm trying to focus here-"

"Did I choose a bad time?"

As one, Taran and Eilonwy started. They spun about, Eilonwy kicking the stool over as she leaped to her feet.

"Eiddileg?" Taran said.

The king of the Fair Folk grinned.

"Seems I did choose a bad time."

"No, no you didn't," Taran replied.

"We just weren't expecting to see you," Eilonwy added. "Not since we heard that you would be cutting off your access to the outside world."

"Well, the paths aren't all closed yet," said Eiddileg. "They will be. But not before I've paid my respects to your majesties."

Taran watched, astonished, as the dwarf dropped to one knee.

"Your majesty," Taran said, stepping forward. "What is this? I am not your superior."

"No!" Eiddileg waved Taran away. He lowered his head.

"Not my superior? If anyone's a claim to the title, it's you. You showed the Fair Folk -you showed me- more kindness than I would ever have expected. You showed all of Prydain who you really were when you drew Dyrnwyn from it sheathe."

Eiddileg took a deep breath.

"You've showed me there's hope for humanity."

"That means a lot, coming from you," said Eilonwy.

Eiddileg gave her a sharp glare. Then, abruptly, his expression relaxed. He laughed.

"You've always had a way with words," he said. "And a way with kissing, too."

He turned away, blushing.

"Probably not proper to mention it, now that you're married and all, but I don't mean any harm…"

Taran glanced at Eilonwy. She nodded. Then, deftly, she planted a light kiss upon the top of Eiddileg's head.

"Many thanks…" he muttered.

Suddenly, the dwarf stood up.

"I wish I could think of a better way of repaying all your kindness," he said, looking Taran in the eye. "I wish I could give you as much advice and help as I can- though I daresay your other half will fill in for me quite nicely."

"I should certainly hope so," said Eilonwy.

Eiddileg grinned once more. Then he pulled a leather volume from his robe.

"I want you to have this," he said, handing it to Taran.

"What is it?" Taran asked.

"A recipe book," Eiddileg replied. He snorted. "It's my diary, what else?"

"I didn't know you kept a diary," said Eilonwy. She took the volume from Taran. "It looks beautiful."

"Prettier than my temper, at any rate," said Eiddileg. He returned his attention to Taran. "Anyway, I want you to have it. It tells more about me than I'd want people to know, but since I won't be around to hear the inevitable criticism, I suppose it doesn't matter. Anyway, I thought you could learn a thing or two from it, about how to run a kingdom…and about how not to underestimate people."

"This is a precious gift," said Taran. "Are you sure you want to give it up?"

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be handing it to you, you clod!" Eiddileg snapped. Abruptly, he grinned for the third time.

"Some things never change," he said. He backed away.

"Farewell, Eilonwy. Farewell, Taran. We will not meet again. But know this: the Fair Folk will never forget either of you."

Taran blinked. The spot where King Eiddileg had been standing was now empty. But for a fraction of a second, he was sure he could hear the echo of one final, world-weary snort. Then all was silent in the cottage once again.

At long last, this fic comes to an end. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. The Chronicles of Prydain are near and dear to my heart, and I hope that much, at least, is clear from the story. As with everything I write and post here, I will read any review you may choose to leave me, whether positive, negative, or both. Thank you so very much for taking the time to read this.

~ crankyman7