In Fionavar, in the first of all worlds, in the aftermath of the battle that bound and undid the Unraveller . . .
Sometimes, the pattern of the Tapestry weaves in unexpected ways.
Arthur was so sure that he would die before the end -- for so it always had been -- and yet the battle is over, and here he stands, with Guinevere and Lancelot both. In the east, Dana's full moon hangs, though tonight is not a full moon night.
Pwyll Twiceborn stretches out his arms to the west and calls the sea.
And it comes, rolling silver over Andarien's plain.
After a few minutes, those watching can see a figure on the waves; a boat, they finally see, long and beautiful with a single sail, steered by none other than Flidais, who had been Taliesin.
When he turns to Arthur, he bows very low and says humbly, "My lord, I have been sent to bring you home. Will you come aboard, that we may sail by the light of the Loom to the Weaver's Halls?"
Arthur lifts his head, and turns to Guinevere. There are no pleas, no tears in her green eyes -- only love.
"I am only allowed you, Warrior," Flidais whispers. "We have so far to go, the waters are so wide."
"Not so." Paul, still speaking as more than himself. "It is allowed. I am deep enough to let this come to pass."
Guinevere thinks, as Arthur turns to her and smiles, that if her joy were any greater she would light up the sky like the moon. "Will you take me with you where you go?" she asks Arthur. "Is there a place for me among the summer stars?"
He steps forward, takes her hand, and leads her onto the boat, the lord and his lady.
Which leaves only their champion.
As they turn back to look at Lancelot, Paul says again, "It is allowed if you will it so. All of the price has been paid."
Arthur cries out in joy and stretches out his hand. "Oh, Lance, come! Oh, come!"
Lancelot hesitates for only a moment, then steps forward to take Arthur's hand, and Guinevere's, and join them at long last, healed and whole.
And finally, as the boat begins to draw away, Paul kneels to greet the shape at his side -- Cavall, the great grey dog -- and murmur into his fur, "Farewell, great heart. I will never forget."
Cavall turns and leaps and lands at his master's feet, and together -- finally, finally together -- they sail out to the summer stars.
Kim Ford raised two kings named Arthur at Glastonbury Tor. The Childslayer and the King of the Summer Country, called together into one body, fought beside the men and women of Fionavar.
The war has ended, now, and all of the prices have been paid. As the boat sails into the sky, one Arthur slips away from it.
No one notices but Cavall, who makes a small noise in his throat, and that Arthur once called Childslayer, who scratches Cavall's neck, and looks from Lancelot to Guinevere in wonder. Go in peace, brother, thinks the Warrior. May your rest be as fair as mine.
Sometimes, the pattern of the Tapestry weaves in unexpected ways.
Arthur was so sure that he would die before the end -- for so it always had been -- and yet the battle is over, and here he stands, with Guinevere and Lancelot both. In the east, Dana's full moon hangs, though tonight is not a full moon night.
Pwyll Twiceborn stretches out his arms to the west and calls the sea.
And it comes, rolling silver over Andarien's plain.
After a few minutes, those watching can see a figure on the waves; a boat, they finally see, long and beautiful with a single sail, steered by none other than Flidais, who had been Taliesin.
When he turns to Arthur, he bows very low and says humbly, "My lord, I have been sent to bring you home. Will you come aboard, that we may sail by the light of the Loom to the Weaver's Halls?"
Arthur lifts his head, and turns to Guinevere. There are no pleas, no tears in her green eyes -- only love.
"I am only allowed you, Warrior," Flidais whispers. "We have so far to go, the waters are so wide."
"Not so." Paul, still speaking as more than himself. "It is allowed. I am deep enough to let this come to pass."
Guinevere thinks, as Arthur turns to her and smiles, that if her joy were any greater she would light up the sky like the moon. "Will you take me with you where you go?" she asks Arthur. "Is there a place for me among the summer stars?"
He steps forward, takes her hand, and leads her onto the boat, the lord and his lady.
Which leaves only their champion.
As they turn back to look at Lancelot, Paul says again, "It is allowed if you will it so. All of the price has been paid."
Arthur cries out in joy and stretches out his hand. "Oh, Lance, come! Oh, come!"
Lancelot hesitates for only a moment, then steps forward to take Arthur's hand, and Guinevere's, and join them at long last, healed and whole.
And finally, as the boat begins to draw away, Paul kneels to greet the shape at his side -- Cavall, the great grey dog -- and murmur into his fur, "Farewell, great heart. I will never forget."
Cavall turns and leaps and lands at his master's feet, and together -- finally, finally together -- they sail out to the summer stars.
Further up and further in!
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The war has ended, now, and all of the prices have been paid. As the boat sails into the sky, one Arthur slips away from it.
No one notices but Cavall, who makes a small noise in his throat, and that Arthur once called Childslayer, who scratches Cavall's neck, and looks from Lancelot to Guinevere in wonder. Go in peace, brother, thinks the Warrior. May your rest be as fair as mine.
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