Rhiannon and Duibhne

The Lord and Lady of the Sidhe of the White Banner were blessed with a daughter who had great
beauty and greater courage.  Her name was Rhiannon, and she was the beloved of the entire
court.  As soon as she was old enough to travel, she was a welcome guest under many a hill, for
every noble who knew of her sought her as a match for their sons.  While she would have none of
them, her kind heart and ready smile banished all disappointment. All who met her were glad of
her company, and she was glad of theirs, for the whole world fascinated her.  She loved to travel,
and she wandered as often as was possible.
 In time, her travels took her to the gloomy fortress of Niall the Black. Rhiannon was
greeted suspiciously, for Niall had been locked in a blood-feud with his neighbours for a century,
and betrayal was more familiar to him than friendship.  Dark clouds hung continuously over the
castle, releasing occassional bursts of suspiciously crimson rain.  This was an enemy's failed
attempt to unnerve him, in response to a curse that Niall had placed. He grudgingly welcomed her
in.  Unused to such inhospitable treatment, she snarled the usual pleasantries and sought solitude.
Unfortunately for her, a storm broke; she preferred his cold halls to the literally bloody rain.
 Niall rarely saw her and she spoke barely two words to him.  But eventually, what he saw
of her beauty gave him newfound joy, and the long-forgotten love songs of his long-gone court
bards rang once more in his ears.  The little he knew of her was far outweighed by what he
imagined he knew.  He had allowed himself very little hope during his long years
of warfare, and his imaginary Rhiannon became the receptacle for all his pent-up longing.
The rain pounded his battlements for many a night, and Rhiannon spent a great deal of time sitting
in her chamber and brooding.  She had no wish to venture forth through the red storm while
Niall's enemies waited nearby. They had not attacked her and her retinue before, but they might
not be as well-disposed towards her now that she had "enjoyed" his "hospitality".
 For over a century, her winters had been spent learning how to govern, fight, and be
courteous, and she had travelled for the rest of the year. Her mind had been almost continuously
occupied and she had almost never been alone.  Until now.
 She stared out the window and regretted her unwed state.  She had had lovers, but never
for long.  Before she had felt comfortable enough to talk to anyone about what she really thought
and felt, she had moved on.  She rarely opened up, for her beauty drew peoples' attention away
from what she thought.  People loved what they saw and were less interested in the rest. She
spent a long time watching the rain and yearning for someone who would listen to her and
understand.  Eventually, she decided that even talking to Niall was better than moping in solitude.
 By this time, she had brooded long enough that Niall had thoroughly entrhalled himself
with his cherished vision of her. Rhiannon spoke hesitantly at first, but his joy at being near her in
the flesh was all the excuse she needed to release a century's-worth of thoughts and feelings.  Niall
gazed adoringly without truly listening, but she was too caught up in speaking to know whether
or not he understood her. Niall's wine was poured, but it was loneliness that led them to talk
long into the night, and to move beyond talking.  She remained with him after the storm passed.
Artists and artisans were called again to his halls.  He bade his finest poets write songs in her
honour, and he bade his finest faerie smiths craft jewellery from the light of the moon and stars.
Rhiannon felt that she was cared for, and she nearly wept with joy.
 Weeks passed, and Rhiannon felt relieved now that she had finally spoken, but she
wondered if she had truly been heard.  Indeed, Niall had caught a few of her words, but these
were not things that his dream-Rhiannon would have said, so they faded from his memory.  And
the more her words challenged his illusion, the more fiercely he clung to it.  His hopes were
invested therein. Rhiannon began to realize this.  She felt betrayed, for she had wanted
so much for Niall to be someone who would listen to her and value her words. Because she felt
hurt, she spoke sharply.  Niall was shocked that she would say anything hurtful, and his hopes fell.
He felt betrayed and spoke harsh words in return.
 In time, they apologized and discussed how they felt, but neither of them changed.  When
Niall asked for her hand in marriage, Rhiannon said goodbye.
 The sun rose and set before he stopped crying, and a week passed before he spoke of
anything besides his own pain.  But none of his entreaties could make her change her mind, so he
readied his soldiers to escort her past his enemies.  He wanted to be part of the escort, and she
conceded.
 Niall the Black prepared a number of painful spells for anyone who threatened Rhiannon
or her retinue.  Once each of his neighbours had tested their strength with ambushes, their journey
became suddenly uneventful. Beyond the reach of his foes, they parted company.  Niall stood
silent and unmoving as she rode into the distance. Rhiannon and her attendants camped in a
clearing far from the road, where she could think undisturbed.  She thought upon Niall's blindness
and bitterness, and hurt preceeded anger; sadness followed.  When her final tears had dried, she
visited old friends who's hospitality she'd valued before.  She stayed a little longer in each place,
and spoke a little more openly.  But she took no lovers.  She began to spend more time at home,
hosting the people who had welcomed her, and forming close friendships within the Court of the
White Banner.

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