The Warrior and the Lady

The Seelie Court was crowded on this moonlit night.  High clouds had given way to a pearlesque moon with diamond-glitter stars. Fairies of every ilk had come out to witness the signing of the ‘Last and Forever treaty’.  The winged, always the elite, hovered just above the loam and moss in one brightly lit corner of the vale, while the Sídhe milled around, drinking and cavorting with the common fay at every turn.  Yet he was set apart, neither winged, nor monster, he was from an age gone by, among the eldest here.  He was not elegant, not lithe and handsome, he was oaken, made of the earth itself, as if a mountain had breathed and then stood to walk.  In the early ages, when the whole world was magic and mist he was a warrior, protector of the small ones, now he was past the days of swords and blood, he was a poet at heart, he was a writer, a teller of tales. He stood in the shadows now, against the wall, watching with a smile on his face.

He caught a glimpse of her from across the vale, she stood between two more fairies that were from another mound.  He knew at once that she was a treasure unto herself.  Skin the color of alabaster and milk, hair the color of lavender and periwinkles, her eyes shone the glittering gold, emeralds and rubies of the royal treasure.  He knew of her already, betrothed to a Seelie prince, she was the blood with which the treaty would be signed in.  The whole of the court was in line to greet her, to kiss her hand, to feel her magic flow over them.

He slowly neared her in the line, announcement after announcement of Fay royalty as introductions were made, and yet the herald’s eye was cast upon him more than not. Wondering how to announce me, are you young one? He thought to himself with a smile showing in his eyes.

Finally he was before her, her eyes looked up along his body, from his chest to his curly green beard and then to meet his green eyes.

“Lady, may I introduce you to Bergkrieger, Warrior of the Green Night.” the herald said, bowing deeply.

Her voice caught in her throat, her eyes, locked onto his, she could feel his magic rolling like thunder across her hand as he bent low to kiss it.

“I trust you are well, Lady,” and then he moved on.  She watched him for a moment longer as he moved through the crowd, his shoulders and head above most of the fairies in the gathering.  She was more than intrigued; she was beguiled by his smile, by his aura, and by his soft ways.

As he moved into the fray he was thinking only about her beauty, and that she wore a gilded sword strapped across her thin back.  She is a warrior as well as a beauty.  He wanted to know more… but how?

Across the vale an old acquaintance caught Bergkrieger in a small conversation.

“You seem well, old friend,” the small fair haired wisp said.  “I see a smile upon your countenance for the first time in an age.”

“It seems, fair wisp, that tonight I have seen more than magic, but also substance.”

Two long days and nights passed before he saw her again.  Standing in the middle of her ladies, she spoke in soft tones as they nodded their heads and fretted with lace and lamé, the shadows danced around them as the candle flames flickered in the ever present breeze.  As he entered the cavernous room the shadows eased away from him, like snow sliding off of a glacier.  A luminescent greenish light seemed to flow off of him , as he moved into the center of the hall this light slipped into translucence and was gone.

(I have had this one in my head for months, more later)