HAPPY SPRING! (well, at least for us in the Northern Hemisphere)
So, in honor of the Spring Equinox, I bring you the newest installment of the Shadow of the Goddess.
Beta'ed By Nance, who I couldn't live without these days. She takes my writing and polishes it to near perfection. :D
Praise to the Spring, Praise to all living things
Praise to the Maiden and the joy that she brings
Praise to the Earth let all her creatures now sing
Hope is renewed with the coming of the Spring
The heart fires are stirring with the new life returning
Its time now for learning what rebirth truly means
We honor ourselves and all the faeries and elves
May we dance and ring bells for the coming of the Spring!
~Lisa Theil Song of Ostara.
"We will be married, Merlin."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"I don't know when they will reappear. Nothing about any prophecy has ever been clear and concise. So, I do understand, Leon. You and Gwen deserve to be happy."
"…But, he is…was…my king." The First Knight of Camelot sighed. The decision was obviously tearing him apart inside. He loved Guinevere; had loved her since they had shared their first kiss together, when he was a young man and she was barely into her teens. Their status in life...his as a noble and her's as a commoner...had kept their relationship from going further than that. For many years, Leon had stood to the side and watched, as his first love had fallen for Lancelot, flirted with Merlin, and blushed at Gwaine's advances to finally end up in the arms of the king.
"Look, do you want me to talk you into this marriage with the Queen, or out of it? You need to make up your mind." Merlin chuckled. After his own wedding to Sefa, and the signs in the fire the following morning, he had gone to Guinevere. Speaking in confidence to her, Leon and Percival about the possibilities of Arthur's return had been difficult. His wife had been at his side, and he let her attempt to explain that the gift of foresight was limited, and while they believed wholeheartedly that it would come to pass, the Goddess had her own way, and timeframe, of doing things. No one could give the Queen an exact time for the return. Nearly a month passed. There had been no other outward signs of Arthur's return and they were becoming anxious.
Guinevere was being pressured into officially naming an heir to the throne. The laws of succession stated that it must be someone within the Royal Family, no matter how distant. Even if she and Leon were to marry and have children of their own, the offspring of their union would inherit Leon's titles, not the kingdom.
A cousin of Arthur's had been found in North Umbria. He was the son of Uther's sister…a woman whom none of them had heard of until recently. He was scheduled to arrive within the month for the official naming. By rights, he could petition Guinevere, as Queen, to marry him. It was not something any of them wanted.
His name was Constantine, and while little else was known about him, Geoffrey had mentioned receiving a letter from a scribe named Gildas years before which had described him as a "tyrannical whelp of the unclean lioness of Damnonia."[1]
"I think you should do it." Merlin finally said, at long last. "Arthur would have wanted her to remarry for love…not for the kingdom...else she would have accepted many of the offers presented to her, and not gone to war. You have known her since she was a child, and it is a good match."
"We have your blessing then?" Leon asked warily. He didn't know why it was so important to him to have Merlin's support, but it felt right. The warlock had become one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, once he was given the opportunity to step out from Arthur's shadow. It almost felt, some days, as if Merlin's opinion was Arthur's. The two men had spent nearly every waking moment together for over a decade. Even years after the king's death, it was sometimes hard to separate the idea of them being two different people.
The smile Merlin gave his friend was sincere. "Yes, you do. I would suggest it take place as soon as possible...before Constantine's arrival, at any rate."
Leon nodded, his dark blond curls bouncing in agreement. "I will speak with the queen, and we will arrange it before the Solstice." The knight began to walk away, obviously anxious to tell Gwen about his conversation. He paused for a moment and turned back to Merlin. "You will be there, right?"
"I wouldn't miss it!" The warlock promised.
The morning dawned; fresh and crisp, with a layer of frost on the ground. Soft, leather soles of bootie-covered feet crunched loudly across the frozen grasses. By mid-morning, the frost would be gone, and signs of spring would be prominent in the meadows and forests.
Sefa waved to a farmer, near the edge of the small town of Ealdor. He sat under an overhang next to his house, and sharpened his plow blade; preparing it for the season. Liliane was running ahead, absolutely fascinated by the world around her. Sefa moved to catch up to the sprightly little girl, her shirts brushing against the wintry white crust of the world.
The day promised to be a beautiful one for foraging. The fresh fiddlehead ferns, still tightly curled before they unfurled into the larger leaves later in the season, offered a nice fresh change from the diminishing winter supplies, and their rhizomes helped to thicken broths. Bright green nettles, perfect for teas, would help with the coming seasonal allergies from pollens. They were just two of the seasonal herbs she was on the lookout for, along with some sheep's sorrel, whose leaves could make a tangy salad and be eaten freshly picked from the ground, unlike many of the other plants.
Merlin was away on one of his frequent trips to Camelot. The expanded kingdom was prospering under Guinevere's rule. However, the political games had only increased with the land, and Sefa preferred to avoid the stress of the citadel, after having been imprisoned there twice.
Though they had watched, waited and prepared, as the Spring Equinox drew closer, and the light of the sun grew more with each day, there was no sign of the prophecy Sefa had seen in the cold hearth after Imbolc. The last time Sefa had gone with her husband, she had felt the queen's stare following her around. There was nothing malicious in her dark brown eyes, only a sullen curiosity…silently asking when Sefa's prediction would manifest. The former maidservant didn't have an answer, so she chose to avoid the situation altogether.
"Liliane, be careful!" She called out to the child, who was scampering through the forest undergrowth, while Sefa bent to gather some nettles. She had on a thick leather glove, and carefully swept up the stem from the base to avoid the stinging hair-like thorns of the herb. A squeal of delight tore Sefa's attention away from the plant. She couldn't see her daughter anywhere, but the sound was one she dreaded nearly as much as if it had been a scream. It meant the spirited child had found something she shouldn't have.
Brushing off her skirt as she stood, Sefa left her basket near the nettles and went in search of Liliane. Coming around a large wolf tree, she saw a clearing and felt her heart stop. A devilish creature laid in the grasses of the forest glade, and Liliane was within arm's reach of it. Although it appeared asleep, it was easily the size of Sir Leon's warhorse or bigger, with massive jaws and teeth that glistened against the melting frost.
"Liliane." Sefa whispered, attempting to turn her daughter's attention away from the creature. Never in her life had she seen anything like it. Although, she recalled her father having mentioned something about the vile beast. She called again, slightly louder, and was preparing to rush forward to snatch her daughter before the creature awoke. "Liliane, come here now!"
The girl, turned and thankfully returned to Sefa's arms. Forgetting her foraging basket, the young mother whisked her child away, back to the safety of the village. She had never wished for Merlin more than she did at that moment, but in lieu of his presence, she settled for gathering the townsfolk when she returned, and explaining to them what she had seen so close to their homes.