There was a maid known as Gwen. She was of humble birth but a lady in her heart adn in her manner. She had hair as pale as winter sunlight, and eyes as green as moss. Her beauty was known throughout the land, and pleasing in form, she was a modest maid who, as her blessed mother had died in the birthing of her, kept the tidy cottage for her aging father. She did as she was bid and what was expected and was never heard to complain. Though she was seen, from time to time, walking on the cliffs of an evening and staring out over the sea as if she wished to grow wings and fly.
She kept the cottage, cared for her father, and walked the cliffs alone. One day, wehn she was taking flowers to the grave of her mother, for she was curied near the well of Saint Declan, she met a man - what she thought was a man. He was tall and straight, with dark hair waving to his shoulders and eyes as blue as the bluebells she carried in her arms. By her name he called her, and his voice was like music in her head and set heart to dancing. And in a flash like a lightning strike, they fell in love over her dear mother's grave with the breeze sighing through the tall grass like faeries whispering.
However heart recognized heart, it was not the simple matter of a maid and a man taking hands and joining lives, for he was Carrick, the faerie price who lived in the silver palace under the hill where her cottage sat. She feared a spell, and she doubted both his heart and her own. And more her heart yearned, the more she doubted, for she'd been taught to beware of the faeries and the rafts where they gathered.
Even so one night, when the moon was rupe and full, Carrick lured Gwen from the cottage and onto his great winged horse to fly with her over the land and the sea and show her the wonders he would give her if only she would pledge him. his heart was hers and all he had he would give her.
And it happened that her father, wakeful with aches in his bones, saw his young Gwen swirl out of the sky on the white winged horse with the faerie prince behind her. In his fear and lack of understanding he though only to save her from the spell he was sure she was under. So he forbade her to have truck with Carrick again, and to ensure her safety he betrothed her to a steady young man who his living on the water. And Lady Gwen, a maid with great respect for her father, dutifully tucked her heart away, ceased her walking, and prepared to be wed as was bid her.
On first hearing, Carrick gave way to a black temper and sent lightning and thunder and wind to whip and crash over the hills and down the sea. And the villagers, the farmers and fisherman trembled, but Lady Gwen sat quiet in her cottage and saw to her mending.
At dawn Carrick mounted his winged horse adn flew up to the sun. He gathered fire from it, formed dazzling diamonds from it, and put it in a silver sack. And these flaming and magical jewels he brought to her at her cottage. When she went out to meet him, he spilled the jewels at her feet, and said to her, "I've brought you jewels from the sun. These are my passion for you. Take them, and me, for I will give you all I have, and more." But she refused, telling him that she promised to another. Duty held her and pride him and they parted, leaving the jewels amount the flowers. And so they became flowers.
On the day she married the fisherman, her father died. It was as if he'd held on to his life, with all its pains, until he was assured his Gwen was safe and cared for. So, her husband moved into the cottage, and left her before the sun rose every day to go out and cast his nets. And their life settled into a contentment and order.
While Gwen was living her life as was expected of her, Carrick lost his joy in music and laughter. One night, in great despair, he mounted his horse once again and flew up to the moon, gathering it's light, which turned into pearls in his silver bag. Once more he went to her and though she carried her first child in her womb, she slipped out of her husband's bed to meet him. "These are tears of the moon," he told her. "They are my longing for you. Take them, and me, for I will give you all I have and more." Again, though tears of her own spilled on her cheeks, she refused him. For she belonged to another, had his child in her, and would not betray her vow. Once more they parted, duty and pride, and the pearls lay on the ground became moonflowers.
So the years passes, with Carrick grieving and Lady Gwen doing what was expected of her. She birthed children, and took joy in them. She tended her flowers, and she remembered love. For though her husband was a good man, he had never touched her heart in its deepest chambers. And as she grew old, her face and body aging, while her heart stayed young with the wistful wishes of a maid.
As time is different for faeries then mortals, one day Carrick mounted his winged horse and flew out to the sea, and dived deep, deep into it to find its heart. There, the pulse flowed into this silver bag and became sapphires. These he took to lady Gwen, whose children had children now, whose hair had gone white and whose eyes had grown dim. But all the faerie prince saw was the maid he loved and longed for. At her feet he spilled the sapphires. "These are the heart of the sea. Take them, and me, for I wil give you all I have, and more."
At this time, with the wisdom of age, she saw what she had done by turning away love for duty. For never once trusting her heart. And what he had done, for offering jewels, but not giving her the one thing that may have swayed her to him.
And that was words of love - rather than passion, rather than longing, even rather than constance - she'd needed. But now she was old and bend, and she knew as the faerie prince couldn't, not being mortal, that it was too late. She wept the bitter tears of an old woman and told him that her life was ended. And she said that if he had brought her love rather than jewels, had spoken of love rather than passion, and longing and constancy, her heart might have won over duty. He had been too proud, she said, and she too blind to see her hearts desire.
Her words angered him, for he had brought her love, time and again, in the only way he knew. And this time before he walked away from her, he cast a spell. She would wander, and she would wait, as he had, year after year, alone and lonely, until true hearts met and accepted the gifts he offered her. Three times to meet, three times to accept before the spell could be broken. He mounted and flew off into the night, and the jewels at her feet became flowers. She died that very night, and on her grave flowers sprang up season to season while the spirit of lady Gwen, lovely as the young maid, waits and weeps for her love lost.
I love that story, though so very sad.
I've made some icons out of stock images, here you go.
&Preview:
( Moonflowers )
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
