Title: The White Hawk and The Raven
Author: May
Plot: Directly after the events in the film 'King Arthur', Morgaine is sent word in Avalon of her half brother Arthur's being named King of Britain. Accompanied by her most beloved priestess Branwen, The Lady of The Lake arrives in time to see her brother wed Guenevere, for a short time of happiness while the Saxons regroup...
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She'd not been able to believe it, when she first heard the news. The look on her face was so startling to me, both oddly hopeful and vulnerable. I had to repeat what Merlin's messenger had told her, before she could react.
"Lady, your brother Arthur has returned to our people." Saying the words myself, they suddenly hit me with their full weight. Arthur had returned to us, with his father's sword, the sword from our very shores...I could only imagine what it meant to The Lady Morgaine. She turned to me, her dark eyes brightening with the smile that spread across her face that was untouched by age, neither old nor young.
"Oh Branwen," She embraced me, overcome, and then she embraced the surprised messenger in her joy. Her little brother had come back.
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A clouded dream on an earthly night
Hangs upon the crescent moon
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
Birds in flight are calling there
Where the heart moves the stones
There that my heart is longing for
All for the love of you
A painting hangs on an ivy wall
Nestled in the emerald moss
The eyes declare a truce of trust
Then it draws me far away
Where deep in the desert twilight
Sand melts in pools of the sky
Darkness lays her crimson cloak
Your lamps will call, call me home
And so it's there that my homage's due
Clutch-ed by the still of the night
Now I feel, feel you move
And every breath, breath is full
So it's there my homage's due
Clutch-ed by the still of the night
Even the distance feels so near
All for the love of you
A clouded dream on an earthly night
Hangs upon the crescent moon
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
Birds in flight are calling there
Where the heart moves the stones
There at my heart is longing for
All for the love of you
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A barge set sail from Avalon in the early morning, bearing The Lady Morgaine, two of her Woad guards, and two of her most beloved priestesses. The two young women were Eiluned her twenty-six year old cousin, and Branwen, who'd been The Lady's pupil but a year before, and whom was now among the most promising priestesses on the island. Morgaine took a moment as she stood on the barge, to glance behind her at the girl, who sat, surrounded by the mists. Were she younger, Morgaine was sure she and Branwen would have been girlhood friends, yet as it was Morgaine had barely been named Lady of The Lake, at a relatively young age, when Branwen had been brought to Avalon at the age of five by her ailing grandmother, a former priestess herself.
Now Branwen got to her feet, Eiluned following her lead though she was seven years the senior. Branwen had a naturally gentle, commanding presence, coupled with bright brown eyes and the dark, ruddy color to her braids that was so uncommon on their soil. Morgaine thought, not for the first time, that if the goddess saw to it not to grant her a daughter, Branwen would surely be her successor as Lady of The Lake. The young priestess caught her gaze, and smiled.
"Are you anxious, my Lady?" She asked quietly, as the opposite shore came into view. Morgaine sighed.
"No, Branwen," She replied, looking forward, and holding her head high, knowing there were many Woads waiting on shore to escort the Lady of The Lake. "Well, not so very much, at least." Morgaine smirked, "The thought keeps returning to me, however, that I've not even seen my brother yet, and already another woman has her claim to his attentions."
"Ah," Branwen grinned, "But it is Guenevere! Surely you can have no qualms with such a girl."
"Oh indeed, I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather him wed," Morgaine readied herself for their coming ashore, "Aside, perhaps, from my Branwen."
"You'd best not hold your breath for this one wedding any man." Eiluned retorted good naturedly, to which Branwen nodded earnestly.
"A Beltane Fire is as close as I'll ever come to any sort of marriage." She stated boldly, causing even The Lady of The Lake to break into laughter, not to mention the Druid men on shore, who were now within earshot. Never mind that Branwen kept holding back from joining the Beltane rites, secretly petrified by the prospect of bearing a child. Her mother had died birthing her first child, and her mother before her.
"The goddess love thee, Branwen." Morgaine sighed, laughter fading. The mood was so light that morning, as they stepped onto mortal soil, surrounded by their people, who were ready to usher their Lady, their new king's sister, to Arthur's binding. Branwen lifted her face to a clear sky, a rare gift at that time of year, the morning sun falling upon her face, on her forehead that bore the crescent of her station, A Priestess of Avalon...
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Author Notes: Well, this should be interesting! I've written enough Fanfiction in my lifetime to choke the Nile, yet this is my first dealing with Arthurian legend...the movie has given me so many plot bunnies. This is also my first time posting on , so please bear with me as I get the hang of things.Also, for the first time in my life, I really don't know how this one will end...yet. Give me time, and notes while you're at it. I welcome ideas.
Most of my information comes from the film King Arthur, and Marion Zimmer Bradley's book, The Mists Of Avalon. Plus, of course, my own little spin, that is the heartbeat of Fanfiction. The song 'The Mystic's Dream' belongs to Loreena McKennitt. Aside from original characters created by me (Branwen, Eiluned, random others), all characters belong to, well...who can really say who owns Arthur, Morgaine, Gawain? =) Just rest assured that I make no money from this. If I did, I'd have enough money to support my reading habit...which I don't. I'm broke, and it's all due to the stinkin' written word. Stupid books...