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#wasn't quite sure how to tag it properly because I feel that all four of the types show up in the story
atlantic-riona · 1 year
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Exile of the Sons of Uisliu
A (long! very long!) retelling of the tale, Longes mac nUislenn (“Exile of the Sons of Uisliu”), an Irish tale from the Ulster Cycle of medieval Irish literature. Written for the Four Loves Fairy Tale event by @inklings-challenge.
Notes: I’ve published part of this before, though right now I can’t find the post. I finished it for the challenge, as it fit well with the themes. It was originally intended to be a retelling that made it easier to approach medieval Irish literature for those who felt intimidated by the often more archaic translations. As such, it sticks very closely to the two sources I was working from, though events from both get blended together in a way that weren’t, strictly speaking, present in both tales. See the end of the story for sources (with links!) and further notes about the adaptation process.
Pronunciation: “Derdriu” = “Deer-druh,” Noisiu = “Nee-shuh,” “Cathbad” = “Kah-vuh,” “Conchobar” = “Kon-cho-var” (with the “ch” as in “loch”, though I’ve heard various other pronunciations as well, Leborcham = “Leh-vor-cham, Cúchulainn = “Koo-chull-in”, “Uisliu” = ish-loo, “Eogan” = “Oh-wen”, and “Medb” = “May-uhv”. The other names should be less tricky, but let me know if you have problems with them.
This is the story of Derdriu.
Of beauty in death.
Some say the story begins before she was even born, at her scream from her mother’s womb. This is somewhat true; it was indeed this scream that caused the men of Ulster to rise from their beds and demand to know its origin. And it was this scream that caused her mother to press her hands to her face and deny any knowledge of its origin, despite the fact it came from her own womb. Indeed, it was this scream that caused Cathbad, the great and wise druid, to set the question of its origin at rest.
He said, “It is your daughter, woman. Her loveliness will surpass all others; her green eyes and tall form will cause envy among queens and desire among kings. Men will slaughter for her and over her, and heroes will do great deeds in her name.”
He said, “She will bring great evil to our land.” Then he fell silent and no more was said on the subject.
And some say the story begins when Deirdre entered the world for the first time, innocent of her great power and tragic fate. Again, the druid Cathbad prophesied of the evil that would follow in the girl’s wake, of jealousy and war and exile. And of death, of beloved children and heroes alike.
“Her tale will be famous,” he said, “as famous as the graves of the men who fought for her and the men who come after her.”
Hearing this, the men of Ulster cried aloud, “Kill the child! Kill her!” For they did not wish to see Ulster and its people suffer such a fate.
“Wait!” came one voice from the crowd. It was Conchobar, king of Ulster. “This girl won’t be killed; I want her for myself. I’ll make sure that no man sees her before we are wed, so there will be no fighting. And so that there will be no jealousy either, no woman will see her.”
No man present defied him.
And so Derdriu was taken away and raised by foster-parents. True to his word, Conchobar let no one else see her-except for Leborcham, who was Conchobar’s messenger and a satirist. It was she who acted as nurse and teacher to Derdriu. Besides them, Derdriu had no contact with anyone or anything from the outside world.
A lonely life for anyone, to be sure.
Years passed, and Derdriu, as predicted, grew into the most beautiful woman in all of Éire. Her hair was yellow as a warrior’s cloak, and her eyes were green as the land she walked on day after day; her lips Parthian-red and her teeth pure white. She saw no one but her foster parents and Leborcham, who had grown very fond of the girl.
One winter day, Leborcham and Derdriu sat outside watching her foster-father slaughter a calf for their supper. The blood from the calf stained the snow, and a raven swooped down to drink it.
Derdriu was struck by this, and said to Leborcham, “I'd like a man such as that: hair as black as a raven, cheeks as red as blood, and body as white as snow.”
A familiar story, is it not?
Without thinking, Leborcham replied, “Then may you have success, for there is one close by. Noisiu son of Uisliu is the man you’re seeking.” Then she fell silent, for she had remembered that Derdriu was bound for Conchobar’s bed.
“I want to see him,” Derdriu said.
“You musn’t,” Leborcham said reluctantly.
“If I don’t, I’ll be sick.”
This went on for some time, until Leborcham agreed to lead Derdriu to where Noisiu was. However, she refused to do anything more than that, for although she was fond of the girl, she could see nothing but harm in encouraging anything further.
Noisiu’s habit was to wander the ramparts of Emain Macha, the place where Conchobar and the other Ulaid gathered, chanting to himself. The chanting of Noisiu and his brothers was said to increase the milk of any cow that heard it, it was that pleasing to listen to. And for any man or woman who heard their chanting, they at once felt peace and happiness.
Do not think that the sons of Uisliu were skilled only in chanting or other such arts. Their skill in battle was renowned; they were swift and strong, and if the three brothers had to fight all of Ulster at once they would be so skilled with their blades and so able at defending one another that it would be a long time before their defeat.
And they were honorable, too; it was their honor that would be their downfall in the end.
Having gotten Leborcham to tell her of this tradition of Noisiu’s, Derdriu made a plan.
Noisiu was walking along the ramparts alone, chanting, when Derdriu came up to him. As though she intended to pay him no attention or recognition, she strolled past him, his fine voice making her heart beat faster.
Noisiu stopped his chanting and watched her go by. When she made to pass him entirely, he said, “That is a fine heifer going by.”
“As well it might,” she said, and turned to face him. At seeing her beauty, he recognized her for Derdriu, King Conchobar’s future wife. “The heifers grow big where there are no bulls, you know.”
“You have the bull of this province all to yourself,” he said, not taking his eyes off her. “For you are to be wed to Conchobar himself.”
She tossed her head. “Of the two, I’d pick a game young bull like yourself.”
“Cathbad’s prophecy,” he said. “Have you forgotten it?” When she made no reply, he reminded her: “He said you will bring death and destruction to the men of Ulster. Your marriage to Conchobar is the solution to that.”
“I don’t want the men of Ulster or Conchobar,” she said and looked at him. “I want you.”
He shook his head and made to leave, although he did not wish to.
“Are you rejecting me?” she cried.
“I am.” 
She darted around in front of him and gripped him by the ears. “If you don’t take me with you, may shame and mockery fall upon you!”
“Leave me alone!”
“You’ll do it!”
“Woman, I will not!”
“My name is Derdriu,” she cried, “and I love you, Noisiu son of Uisliu! I loved you before I knew your face or form or voice, and now that I have seen them I love you even more! I will love you until the day I die!”
He reached up and pulled her hands from his ears. “Hush, or you’ll wake the whole of Ulster! Already the warriors inside exclaim and reach for their swords.” But he did not let go of her hands.
“It seems to be their recurring reaction to me,” she said, and they looked at each other without saying anything.
Perhaps Derdriu’s story begins here, where she and Noisiu made plans to slip away later that night when the sons of Uisliu and their company departed Emain, with Derdriu planning to hide amongst the women. Of course Noisiu’s brothers, Ardán and Annle, came with the two, and it was they who suggested seeking refuge with another king of Ireland. 
Whatever the start of the story was, this point was certainly the beginning of the end for all four of them.
They traveled from king to king, from one place to another, hunted by an angry Conchobar and all his warriors. Finally, in order to be free, they left Éire and escaped to the land of Alba.
They had no friends there, and so settled in the wilderness. Despite the fact that she was once again living with only three other people for company, Derdriu was happier than she had ever been. The brothers hunted for game, and when that ran out, they raided for cattle.
It was to be expected that the people of Alba rose up against them. As has been said before, the sons of Uisliu were skilled in many things, and cattle-stealing was certainly one of those things they excelled at. The people of Alba, however, excelled at disliking those who stole all of their livestock and food, and were certainly willing to do something about it. Both sides were well-matched, despite the brothers being greatly outnumbered. But the brothers were sick of fighting, and they searched for an alternative.
So they made an offer to the king of Alba: they would stop stealing cattle and in return, he would hire them as his soldiers. It was a good offer, and the king accepted it.
Noisiu and his brothers built their houses among the other warriors, but were careful to build them so that Derdriu could not be seen from the outside. For they did not wish for her beauty to bring them the same kind of trouble they had tried to escape in Éire. And for a time this worked.
But then, one day, the king’s steward came by early in the morning when everybody was asleep. He saw Derdriu and Noisiu sleeping peacefully, and even in sleep, Derdriu’s beauty struck him silent.
The steward went to the king, who was sleeping. The steward said, “My king, my king, I have found the perfect woman for you. She lies with Noisiu son of Uisliu even now, and she is a woman worthy of any king in the world. If you kill Noisiu now, you can have her to wife.”
The king declined to have Noisiu killed, saying, “Go instead and ask her every day in secret if she will leave Noisiu and wed me.”
And so every day the steward came to visit Derdriu while the brothers were away. And every day, she turned him down. At night, when the brothers returned, she told Noisiu of the steward’s visits.
“This is a bad business,” said Noisiu, “but I can’t see what there is to be done about it yet.” For if they offended the king, they could not return to Éire, and where else could they go? So the visits continued.
As Derdriu refused the king’s advances day after day, the king tried a different tactic. He ordered the brothers into fierce battles and set dangerous traps for them in the hopes that they would be slaughtered. But the sons of Uisliu were so skilled in battle and so clever that they always ended up unharmed.
Finally, the king grew weary of all this. “Try her one last time,” he told the steward. “Then we’ll kill the sons of Uisliu and take her anyway.”
The steward did as the king commanded. He said to Derdriu, “Listen. If you don’t do as the king wishes, he will gather up all the men of Alba and slaughter your beloved Noisiu and his brothers. Is that what you desire? Rather, by going to the king you may save their lives.”
It is not known what exactly Derdriu said to him after that, but it is certain that it was yet another refusal. The steward went away angry, and told the king that Derdriu had rejected him yet again. The men of Alba were called. Derdriu saw that they were many in number, too many for the sons of Uisliu to defeat without terrible cost.
Noisiu, Ardán, and Annle came home and Derdriu told them what the steward had said.
“You must leave,” she said. “If you don’t leave tonight, you won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Ardán, the youngest brother, said, “Will you not be coming with us, then?”
Annle, the middle brother, said, “It would certainly be a waste of all our efforts so far if she did not.”
And Noisiu, the eldest brother, said, “Do you not think we can protect you?”
So Derdriu went with them. They left that very night and traveled over the sea until they reached an island that was between Alba and Éire. The king of Alba pursued them with many men, but the sons of Uisliu fended them off in a series of battles deserving of their own heroic legend.
The news of the exiles’ flight from Alba reached Éire. Everybody said to Conchobar that it would be a great shame if the sons of Uisliu fell to an enemy king in an enemy land by the fault of a bad woman. “Forgive and protect them instead, Conchobar, and let the sons of Uisliu come home,” they said. “It is better to do this then to let them be harmed by enemies.”
“Very well then,” Conchobar said. “Let them come home. I will guarantee their safety. Send for them.”
“Who will take the message?” they asked.
“It is well known that Noisiu son of Uisliu will only come in peace to Éire again if he is brought by one of three people: Cúchulainn son of Sualdam, Conall Cernach son of Amergin, and Fergus mac Roich,” Conchobar said. “I will choose one of them.”
He took Conall aside and asked him, “What would you do, Conall, if I sent you to bring the sons of Uisliu back to Éire and through some cunning and betrayal-not my own, of course-they were slaughtered despite your promises of safety?”
Conall answered, “Any Ulsterman, no matter who he was, would fall at my hand. No man would escape my wrath.”
“That is a good answer, Conall,” Conchobar said. “But I see you will not be my choice.”
Next he asked his nephew Cúchulainn the same question. 
Cúchulainn was more perceptive and answered thus: “I swear that if you were to ask me to do such a thing, and to bring them home to be slain by you, I would take no bribe from you, great though it might be, in favor of taking your own head for such a deed.”
“I see that you do not love me either, Cúchulainn,” Conchobar said, and sent him away.
He called Fergus over to him and asked him the same question.
And Fergus said, “I swear not to attack you yourself, but if any Ulsterman should attempt harm on them, death and destruction will meet that man by my hands.”
“You will be messenger, Fergus,” Conchobar said. “It was you who had the best answer.”
So Fergus mac Roich was chosen as messenger. He sailed to their island, accompanied only by his son Fiacha, but could find no traces of the exiles. He made a loud call for them. Derdriu and Noisiu were playing fidchell, and both heard Fergus’ shout. 
“That is a man of Éire shouting,”said Noisiu, looking up from the board.
Derdriu recognized it as Fergus’ voice, but said, “No, you are mistaken. That is a man of Alba.”
Again Fergus shouted, and again Noisiu looked up from the board. “There it is again, and this time I am sure it came from a man of Éire.”
“You are mistaken,” Derdriu said, “and now it is your turn. Play on.”
Fergus shouted a third time, and this time Noisiu knew for certain his voice was that of a man from Éire. He rose from his seat and told Ardán to go and meet the speaker, to see who it was. For it would make them poor hosts if they neglected their guest any longer.
“I know who it is,” said Derdriu. “It is Fergus mac Roich. I recognized his voice from the start.”
Angry, Noisiu demanded to know why she had concealed this from him.
“I dreamed last night,” she said. “I dreamed that three birds flew to us from Emain Macha, and that in their beaks were three sips of honey. They left the honey with us, but took three sips of our blood in return.”
Noisiu sat down. “What do you think your dream meant?” Dreams might foretell the future or provide insight into the present, and so were not to be ignored.
“Fergus comes from our beloved home bearing a message of peace, but the message he bears is false, for a false message of peace is sweeter than honey. That is the meaning of the honey.”
“And the blood?” said Ardán, for he hadn’t left yet.
“The three sips of blood the bird took from us,” said Derdriu, “are the three of you, who will leave with him and be tricked.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” said Ardán. The others agreed.
Then Noisiu said, “Never mind that for now. We’ve left Fergus waiting at the harbor for far too long. Ardán, go and fetch him.”
Ardán, grumbling, went down to fetch Fergus. But he was much heartened to see him and his son, and kept asking tidings of Éire, and of Ulster especially.
“It’s glad we are to see you,” Fergus and Fiacha said, “and we’ll tell you everything when everyone’s there to hear it.”
And when Noisiu and Annle and Derdriu saw the travelers, their hearts were gladdened also; and they also asked for tidings of the land they missed so dearly.
“We bring the best tidings,” Fergus said. “I have been sent to bring you back to Éire. Conchobar guarantees your safety, and I swear to you I’ll see you safe to him on the very day we set foot back in Éire.”
“Don’t go,” said Derdriu to Noisiu. “It will end badly, I’m sure of it.” 
But the brothers dearly missed their homeland, and great was their desire to return.
“We will go,” they said. And even though they longed to return, they were also practical and knew they must put in safeguards. “But only if you yourself, Fergus, accompany us, as well as Dubthach and Conchobar’s eldest son Cormac, and if all three of you swear as to our safety.”
Fergus agreed to this, as it was a prudent request, given what had happened the last time the four had set foot in Éire. 
But Derdriu argued against it; she said that going to Éire would be their doom and that she felt sure their deaths awaited them there. And although the brothers pleaded and cajoled, argued and promised, she would not be swayed.
Finally Fergus said to her, “You need not fear, lady: should all the men of Éire betray you, I will fight and defeat them no matter how great their number. Their shields will be poor protection against the wrath of my sword. Of that you may be certain.”
“Friend Fergus,” she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”
They boarded the ship and set sail for Éire. As they passed Alba’s shores, Derdriu looked behind her at them and cried, “Farewell to you, O land that I loved! O land that was my home, I will miss your shores and hills, and the happy days we spent among them. O land, I will not see you again in this lifetime.”
Then she sang a lament, mourning all the places she had loved and lost. “If it were not for Noisiu,” she said, “I would not have left them.”
Dubthach and Cormac met them when they landed. The sons of Uisliu were so glad to be home that they swore they would not rest or eat until they had eaten Conchobar’s food. So the group started their journey at once.
Alas, Conchobar’s treachery knew no bounds. For he had sent Borrach mac Annte to draw Fergus away from them, and this was how he did it.
There was a geas upon Fergus, and it was this: he could not refuse an invitation to a feast. A geas was a powerful thing, and the breaking of it would lead to one’s doom.
Borrach met up with the group on the road and invited Fergus to several feasts. Fergus grew red with anger and cursed Borrach, saying it was ill-done of him to pick today of all days to invite him to a feast. Borrach would not rescind his invitations and so Fergus was caught between his promise to see the sons of Uisliu safely to Conchobar and his old geas.
“What should I do?” Fergus asked Noisiu.
Derdriu said, “Do what you want, friend Fergus. If you prefer to forsake us for a feast, then by all means do so. Leaving us is surely a good price to pay for a feast.”
“I won’t forsake you,” he said. “I’ll send my son Fiacha on with you and my own word of honor as well. And there will be Dubthach and Cormac as well.”
But Dubthach and Cormac chose to remain with Fergus, leaving only Fergus’ son Fiacha to accompany the sons of Uisliu and Derdriu.
“We give you thanks,” said Noisiu to Fiacha, “since none but our own hands have ever defended us in combat.” They were angry with Borrach, and left quickly. 
Fergus was gloomy about that but trusted that the whole of Éire could not defeat Fiacha.
“Noisiu,” Derdriu said, “I will give you some advice, although you will not listen to it.”
Noisiu drew her closer. “What is this advice of yours, O Derdriu?”
“Tonight we should go back to our island and remain there until Fergus has finished with his feast. Thus his word will be fulfilled and we may continue onward with him as safeguard.”
“That is evil advice,” Fiacha said. “My father has sworn to see you safe home today, and I am duty-bound to carry out his oath. Do you doubt his honor? If you turn back now it will be an insult.”
Derdriu was silent for a long time. At last she spoke: “Great is the evil fallen upon us today because of Fergus, since he abandoned us for a feast.” She was greatly sorrowed, for she had only agreed to come back to Éire because of Fergus’ oath to protect them. And then she chanted:
“Great is my grief that I have come 
at Fergus’ word, that reckless son of Roich.
I will lament and mourn forevermore—
and my heart is bitter because of it.
O sons of Uisliu—
your last days have come.”
Noisiu chanted in response:
“Say not such things,
O woman as radiant as the sun!
Fergus would not have fetched us
if destruction were in his heart.”
Derdriu chanted:
“Alas, I grieve for you,
O delightful son of Uisliu!
To have left our home in strange lands—
nothing good will come of it.”
They came to the White Cairn of the Watching, on Sliab Fuad. There was a pleasant glen there. Derdriu stayed behind and fell asleep. At first they did not notice she was not with them, but Noisiu, turning to say something to her, let out a cry of startlement. 
“What is it?” Annle asked.
“Derdriu is not with us; she must have fallen behind.”
They hurried back and arrived there just as she was waking up. Noisiu knelt beside her. “Why did you stay behind, Derdriu?”
“I fell asleep,” said she, “and as I slept I dreamed.”
“What did you dream of?” he said.
“I saw each of you without a head,” she said. “I grew frightened and woke up.”
“It was only a dream,” he said.
“A sad dream,” she said.
Then they traveled onward to a place known as “the Height of the Willows.” Then Derdriu said to Noisiu, “I see a cloud of blood about your head, and I would give all of you advice!”
“What is your advice, Derdriu?” Noisiu asked.
“To go tonight to Cúchulainn’s place of dwelling and stay there until Fergus comes; or to have Cúchulainn escort us with promises of safety to Conchobar.”
“I am not afraid,” said Noisiu, “so we will not do that. And we have sworn to stop for nothing until we reach Conchobar anyway.”
Derdriu sang a song, then, about the great cloud of blood she saw hanging over Noisiu’s head, but Noisiu ignored this. 
They went onwards through the familiar lands, accompanied by Fergus’ son Fiacha, until they came to the green at Emain Macha.
While they had been traveling to Emain, Conchobar had made peace with his old enemy, Eogan mac Durthacht, the king of Fernmag. Eogan was to kill Noisiu and his brothers, and any who opposed this.
So when Derdriu, the sons of Uisliu, and Fiacha came to the green at Emain, Eogan was waiting for them in the middle of it with Conchobar. Hired soldiers surrounded Conchobar so that the sons of Uisliu could not reach him. Behind them, women sat on the ramparts of Emain to watch the fighting.
Eogan and his men came to where the sons of Uisliu stood. Fiacha was standing at Noisiu’s side. Eogan delivered Conchobar’s welcome to Noisiu with a spear thrust so fierce it broke his back. Fiacha grabbed Noisiu and flung himself over him, bringing them both down to the ground. The second spear thrust through Fiacha’s body ended Noisiu. Then the green came alive with battle.
Ardán and Annle defended Derdriu fiercely. They linked their shields together and put her between them, and such was their skill that they slaughtered all those who came against them.
Seeing so many fall, Conchobar turned to Cathbad the druid. “O Cathbad, work some enchantment upon the sons of Uisliu. See their skill and how many they have slain. If they should escape now, Ulster will never be safe from them. I swear if you do this, I will not harm Uisliu’s sons.”
Conchobar’s words were persuasive in the face of all the dead strewn about the green, and Cathbad believed him. He lifted a hand and suddenly a sea, with great waves that crashed like thunder, lay ahead of the sons of Uisliu and Deirdre. Behind them, not two feet away, were the men of Ulster, waiting for the chance to strike. The sea surged ever closer, threatening to engulf them, and the brothers placed Derdriu on their shoulders so that she would be safe from drowning.
With the sons of Uisliu thus trapped, Conchobar ordered someone to kill the brothers. But no man of Ulster moved, for everyone there had borne Noisiu and his brothers great love.
But Eogan mac Durthacht spoke up, saying that he was ready to behead them both.
“Since that is so,” Ardán said, “kill me first, as I am the youngest.”
“No,” Annle said. “Kill me first instead.”
Then Eogan struck a blow that severed the heads of both on the spot, and all the Ulstermen cried out in grief.
Fergus had been told of the treachery of Conchobar, and came now with Dubthach and Cormac to Emain. They entered the green, and saw Noisiu, lying dead under Fiacha’s body, and Ardán and Annle, beheaded by Eogan.
Furious at how his oath had been broken and his son slain, Fergus gave battle to the men of Ulster. Dubthach and Cormac joined him. All three fought fiercely, and many fell by their hand that day, including Cormac’s younger brother Maine.
During the fighting, Deirdre slipped away to the far side of the green, and it was there she happened to meet Cúchulainn, returning to Emain Macha. 
“Are you here to betray us too?” she said to him. “The sons of Uisliu lie dead on the green of Emain; you may as well kill the daughter of Fedlimid and lay her with them.”
“Dead? Betrayed?” Cúchulainn asked, and Derdriu told him the whole sorry tale. At this a glint came into his eye and he said, “That is sad news indeed. Who killed them?”
“Eogan mac Durthacht,” she said. “But it was at Conchobar’s demand.”
“Let us go and find them,” Cúchulainn said, “and make sure they have a proper burial.” He had not yet realized that his foster-father Fergus was the one leading the fight against Conchobar and Eogan’s men, and so he did not join the fight himself—though if he had, it would not have gone well for his enemies.
They came to the place where the bodies lay, and Derdriu flung herself down on top of Noisiu and kissed him, her lips red with his blood. “Without the three sons of Uisliu, I am not alive,” she said. “A day spent with them was full of mirth; a day without them a day of mourning. A curse on Conchobar, a curse on Cathbad, a curse on me—I wish I had died, that trickery and floods on my behalf had not killed them!”
And she sang a song of lamentation, refusing to part from the fallen brothers, though Cúchulainn tried to persuade her to flee to safety.
There was much weeping in Emain that day; and not just for the many brave Ulstermen who had fallen at the hands of Fergus, Dubthach, and Cormac. Dubthach slew the women of Ulster, and Fergus burned Emain. Three thousand men joined them when they went to Connacht. Ailill and Medb, the rulers of Connacht, welcomed them—not out of any great love, but because of the enmity between them and Ulster. With Aillil and Medb they found protection, but the exiles’ vengeance did not stop there. There was not a single night that passed from that day without the exiles wreaking more destruction and sorrow upon Ulster.
As for Derdriu, she was with Conchobar a year. During that year she did not smile. She barely ate, she rarely slept. She rested her head on her knee and would not lift it, though Conchobar brought musicians to try and raise her spirits.
When the musicians came, she would chant:
“You say the men of Emain coming home 
triumphant is a brilliant sight to see;
I say that more brilliant was the sight
of the sons of Uisliu returning home.
Noisiu bearing mead, 
Ardán and Anle bearing meat—
a sweeter supper by far
than any at the table of Conchobar.
The airs you play today lack the music
of Noisiu, who sang like the sea,
of Ardán, who sang bright as sunlight,
of Anle, who sang like the wind in the trees.
I loved Noisiu, the great hero—
loved him to his death.
I don’t sleep, I can’t sleep—
the son of Uisliu will never return.”
If Conchobar tried to calm her, she would say, “What are you thinking, you who heaped sorrow upon me? I might live a hundred years or more, and yet even then I wouldn’t have any love for you. You took the thing I loved most in the world, and I will not see him until I die. I weary of you—I see nothing but the dark stones of the grave covering Noisiu, once so bright and beautiful.”
And if he persisted, she would say to him, “Fergus wronged us, taking us over the sea to you. He sold his honor for a drink. If all the warriors of Ulster gathered before us today, without hesitation I would trade them all for Noisiu. Do not break my heart further today; I am not long for the grave. My sorrows are higher and heavier than the waves of the sea. If you were wise, you would know this.”
One day, Conchobar tired of this and asked, “Who do you hate most?”
“You and Eogan mac Durthecht!” she said.
“Then go live with Eogan for a year,” he said.
He gave her to Eogan, and the next day the three set out for the gathering at Macha. Derdriu was behind Eogan in the chariot. She looked down, so that she would not have to see the two men she hated most. She had sworn that neither of them would have her.
Conchobar had been watching her and Eogan, and when he saw her look down, he said, “Your glance is that of a ewe between two rams, Derdriu, sitting here between me and Eogan.”
Up ahead, there was a big boulder. When she heard him, she leapt up and struck her head upon it, smashing her skull to bits, and she was dead.
Even then, Conchobar was jealous that Noisiu and Derdriu dwellt in death together, and he ordered that their graves be far apart from one another. Yet every morning, the graves were found open, with the lovers inside one of them. To keep them apart, Conchobor had stakes of yew driven through their bodies, and the graves remained closed.
This was the story of Derdriu. Of beauty in death. Beauty brought Derdriu death: the death of the sons of Uisliu, the death of many in Ulster, and lastly her own death.
It was not death itself that was beautiful. The beauty was how Derdriu lived. Destined for a tragic fate even in the womb, was there ever any escape for her? And yet she chose, again and again, to turn away from the path laid out for her. Again and again, she chose the son of Uisliu.
Perhaps that had always been her fate. Or perhaps not. Prophecies are fickle things.
Years passed. Ulster and Connacht went to war. Cúchulainn stood alone against Medb’s invading army, and was later betrayed; death, winged raven, perched on his shoulder. Conchobar heard of the death of Christ and became so angry at the injustice that blood sprang from his head and he died. His eldest son Cormac was invited out of exile to be king of Ulster, and swearing friendship with Aillil and Medb, returned—only to meet death at the hands of men of Connacht. Fergus met death at the hands of Ailill, who met death through the plotting of Medb, who met death by the patient vengeance of one of Conchobar’s sons. Emain Macha was abandoned for Ard Macha close by, which became Armagh, where Saint Patrick built his church.
Two yew trees grew from the stakes in the graves. They grew and grew, until they became so tall that they could entwine with each other at last, centuries later, over the cathedral at Armagh.
Sources: “The Tragical Death of the Sons of Usnach,” The Cuchullin saga in Irish literature, Eleanor Hull (p. 22-53) and “Exile of the Sons of Uisliu,” The Táin, translated by Thomas Kinsella (p. 8-20).
Additional Notes: Because this was meant to make the medieval tales more approachable, in parts of my retelling there may be dialogue and such that read like simplified/altered versions of the original sources. I highly recommend reading the originals, linked below, for a fuller appreciation of the tale, especially Kinsella’s, as in my opinion his translations are the most readable and beautiful of any I’ve read. I’m happy to provide more detail about the adaptation process, the history behind the literature, and the wider context of the Ulster Cycle if anybody has questions. 
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goth-albino-angel · 3 years
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Yugiri's smile is everything. She has so many of them and they all mean different things. When she's relaxed, when she's excited, when she's confused, when she has no clue what's going on but everyone else is happy so she's happy, when she's relieved, when she's proud... She has so many different smiles and if Tumblr didn't have the 10 image rules, I would absolutely gush about every single one of them in detail. Unfortunately, if I do that, all of those posts will probably be eaten out of the tag, so instead, here are my top 10 favorite Yugiri smiles so far, images included. (Pre-Revenge episode 9)
10. Season One, Episode 2: The First Smile/ 9. Season One, Episode 10: The Sentimental Smile
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Episode 2 is the first time we ever see Yugiri smile. Before this, she seemed relatively nonplussed or generally disinterested in pretty much everything going on. Even though she was in a different time period with complete strangers and a madman demanding her to be something she has no knowledge of, she was fairly calm. Then the first time we see her smile, it's when she sees something completely familiar. Her own face. Not only that, but she directs that smile toward the character that is going to become basically her little sister. The first one means so much and it's so important.
Within the same vein, her smile to Kotaro in episode 10 is one during an emotionally heavy moment. It's the first time he's hit an actual snag in his plans. Sakura's singular focus on the Arpino show rather than on the bigger picture of the group as a whole would have been a massive roadblock had she not realized her mistake.
Yugiri is the only one who properly realizes the reason they were sent into the mountains in the first place. Instead of simply sitting on the information, she's proactive about it and actually goes to discuss the problem with Kotaro. She wants to understand his reasoning so that she might be able to help him. And when she turns toward him, she also gives him the observations she's witnessed throughout her new life. This smile may be low on my list of favorites, but it's still unbelievably important.
...Also, when they released the preview image of this smile, my brain short-circuited for ten minutes, so it had to make it onto the list regardless.
8. Season Two, Episode One: The Professional Smile
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This smile isn't much out of the ordinary for what we've come to expect of Yugiri, but it's on here because this was our first look at Yugiri after basically two years of very little. None of us knew how the group would come back, how the writing team had incorporated the unexpected pandemic, how things would play out, or what would be happening. The Promo showed Tae's hand flying off to knock off Sakura's head, but as 2018 displayed, the promos can't always be trusted. This showed that, even in this new world where she's only been awake for a year, she's putting her skills to use and working just as hard as the others. Thanks to the conversation from Episode 10 of the first season, we know she was trained as a geisha which would make service work much easier than it would be for the other girls.
I don't have too much to say on this one, to be honest. I do like that she's in softer lighting, as opposed to the others who were all surrounded by harsh lighting on their season two introductions. The softer lighting lends itself well to the lack of pigment and coloration in the girls' makeup, allowing Yugiri to look like she has some color, even if she still looks somewhat pale and tired. It doesn't give her quite the same sickly look the others have at their jobs. The red dress? 100/10. Perfect decision.
7. Season One, Episode Five: The Proud Smile
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SHE. DOES. GYMNASTICS. She has every right to this smile! I did the math for this specific part of the episode and Yugiri got third place. The judges liked her rope aerobics so much, they shot her all the way to third place even though her distance was zero meters. It wouldn't have gotten her interviewed, but it would have at least put Franchouchou at the forefront. I still applaud Tae snagging first place, but Yugiri deserves some praise. She really did go face first into the mud on a bike and said, "Never again." She's so proud of herself. I'll be gushing about the actual gymnastics part in a different post a little later, too, but she definitely deserves to be proud of herself. I'm really gay...
6. Season One, Episode Four: The Cute Smile
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Originally, this was just going to be me doing some keysmash version of a squeal or something, but there's something I'd like to draw attention to. I'm pretty sure that, by this point, Franchouchou only knows two songs. Yomigaere, which was supposed to be performed in episode 2, and Mezame Returner, which is what's being performed here. Of these two, Yugiri has more experience with this one, but from what the audience had been shown, it wasn't good experience.
Memorizing the lyrics would have been the easy part for her. It's that a good portion of the dance practice was also spent helping Lily get the steps down and potentially calming her frustrations. Then the performance itself would have been a complete disaster if Junko and Ai hadn't gotten over themselves at the last minute to finally help.
This is the first successful performance of Mezame Returner we're witnessing and it's clear the group's had more practice since then. You can see how excited and happy Yugiri is here because this one is actually going well. They had a bit more time to prepare, the two lead roles were actually involved this time, and the audience also was clearly enjoying the performance. She's so happy and it's just so heart-warming to see. Yes, even with the CGI. Don't @ me, she looks adorable.
5. Season One, Episode Seven: The Sassy Smile
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This one also was just going to be a squealing keysmash thing, but again, I have something to point out. Look how much more confident she is now that Junko and Ai have, once again, gotten over themselves. Yugiri sees the effect that Junko stepping in had on the others and just like the rest of the group, her movements are more relaxed and free.
It's more obvious, actually, if you look at the way the other girls are moving directly after Junko helps Ai up in comparison to how Yugiri is moving. She did a spin while waiting for Sakura and Lily to finish their segment, and she could be cheeky during her own. She sensed that the tension had mostly dissolved and because of that, she allowed herself to relax and could properly throw herself into the performance. When she throws out this smile and wink, it's not actually directed at the audience. It's Yugiri telling the others that they've got this without breaking the performance.
4. Season Two, Episode Four: The Gentle Smiles
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I put both of these here because Yugiri's just... so... caring? So much of what she does is passive that you don't realize just how much work she puts into relieving the stress from the other girls until long after the problem has been resolved.
In the first, she's speaking to Sakura. No doubt, Yugiri probably noticed how worried Sakura was about Junko. Even though Sakura was trying not to let the others catch on just how anxious she really was, Yugiri still knew that something was bothering Sakura as well as Junko. Yugiri knew that the key to easing Junko's mind lay in placating Sakura first. She's seen what happens to them all when they fall apart and she wants to avoid that at all costs. So, Yugiri lifts Sakura's spirits and gives her back the fire and determination to make a great performance.
In the second, Yugiri is watching Junko eat. Unlike the others, it's clear Yugiri knows that Junko is in much higher spirits than when last they saw her. Junko would likely have still been a stuttering, quivering mess otherwise, but she wasn't stuttering and her actions were purposeful and self-assured. Yugiri is very observant. She would have caught on that something had happened to make Junko feel better. What makes this smile even better is that she's not the least bit disappointed. The reason she made dinner was to help Junko, but she doesn't view the meal as a waste of time. She's so focused on other people, that she's happy Junko is feeling better at all and even offers her different platters to help keep her mood up.
These are high on the list for two reasons. One, they're a show of just how much Yugiri does for her girls. Two, YUGIRI COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS HEADCANON CONFIRMED BITCHEEEESSS!!! I GOT ONE RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!
3. Season Two, Episode Six: The Affectionate Smile
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I will be completely honest, I have no idea why this one is as high as it is. I admit, I did spend three hours replaying this single thirty second scene because it's really sweet and Yugiri and Tae don't interact very often, so seeing Yugiri not only be worried for Tae, but also be immediately reassured that Tae would be fine was just something my heart didn't know it needed until it had it. The sheer level of affection Yugiri shows toward Tae is too adorable. Especially since Yugiri usually only has moments like those with Sakura and, to a lesser extent, Lily. This smile's really cute, it's in the middle of a wholesome scene, and it made me love both Yugiri and Tae that much more.
2. Season One, Episode Three: The Excited Smile
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Once again, an entry that was going to be a simple squealing keysmash until I realized there was something to point out here as well. This is the first smile we ever see from Yugiri that's genuinely enthusiastic. She has plenty of them, especially during her performances, but this is our first time seeing her fully incorporate herself into the group as an actual member and actually look excited to do something with the others. This was an omen of adorable things to come and damn did it deliver.
Honorable Mentions.
I'm only going to touch on each of these briefly because to be honest, there are a LOT of smiles I could've picked.
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The first one is from episode 6 when the group is talking about their very first meet-and-greet. Lily asks Yugiri if she's keeping up okay, and Yugiri remarks that she's taking things as they come. This was a small look into the kind of character she is. As I mentioned before, she's very passive in the way she operates, but that's to the benefit of those she cares for. This is her admitting that she doesn't want to be a problem and it's just sweet that even though Lily is worried about her, Yugiri's still highkey thinking about everyone else.
To the right is a shot of Yugiri during Electric Returner. This one is just the squealing keysmash because she looks so genuinely ecstatic, it's contagious. She's NO DAMN CLUE what happened or why they sound so different, but she is absolutely living her best second life.
The next shot comes from the beginning of Yomigaere and is somewhat of a repeat of the above. She's excited to perform for such a big crowd, she's glad Sakura finally agreed to actually participate, and she's living her best second life. Whoever animates Yugiri's CG model? I love you. I want to send you a gift basket. She's always so happy during performances.
Then comes her smile after the group finds out Sakura's memories are back. She's just glad Sakura, her Sakura, has come back to them, that she accepts her crap luck and is still willing to stay. For Yugiri, this goes under the list of Best Possible Outcomes. Her family is whole again and she's so relieved.
Last in the top row is the first full frontal shot we get of Yugiri in the Saga Jihen music video. She's so unbelievably adorable here. I wish I could've gotten her first expression, but the curtain was still rising and without photoshop, I'm not editing an image to the degree needed to get her whole face lightened. Point is, she's cute and everyone deserves to see her adorable face on the first song she got to be center for.
First on the bottom row is Yugiri looking apologetic from episode 8 of Revenge. She's so cute. It was an honest mistake and she had no way of knowing the paper belonged to Kiichi. No doubt, that was probably why she offered to help him rewrite them later.
Next is how cute she looks in big sister mode. She's wiping the mud from Kiichi's cheeks and is taking such care with him. Throughout the entire episode, she treats him like a little kid and it's likely because her role was big sister for so long that she doesn't know how not to treat him that way. It really does shed light on just how kind she is to everyone, though, that she doesn't even think about her dirty kimono and focuses on cleaning him up a little first.
Then we have her smiling at Kiichi as she remarks on how beautiful his dream of reviving Saga is. She even says she hopes it comes true. His dream means something to her. She can't even fully see it, he can't even fully see it, but they don't need to. What Itou didn't understand this whole time is something Yugiri understood immediately just from listening to Kiichi talk. They don't need to see it in their minds, all they need is to feel it in their hearts, and that's something Yugiri knows.
And lastly on the honorable mentions, because this post is already super long, Yugiri smiling while she's cooking for her guests. It was a tossup between this or the pinwheel because it's just really nice that Yugiri can simply enjoy mundane things. I chose this one because it's a direct contrast to how she was at the beginning. Before, she ate with a disinterested expression, but now, she's cooking for guests rather than just for herself. The lift in her mood is obvious, and it's something so small but so heartwarming, I couldn't resist.
I would've put the pinwheel moment anyway, but unfortunately, as a com major, formatting and design are everything and an extra picture on the top or bottom without a balancer would've thrown the whole thing off. Maybe next time.
NOW FOR NUMBER ONE
1. Season Two, Episode Eight: The Softest Smile
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This should have been expected. There's something genuinely touching about the fact that Yugiri really does give her everything, even to complete strangers. These girls barely know her, everyone in town barely knows her, but because her dance students suggested Yugiri go out and actually experience, Yugiri gives it actual thought. She doesn't dismiss them, she doesn't deride them, she doesn't make them feel foolish or anything like that. She treats their suggestion the same way she would if it had come from a close friend. And she does actually take them up on it.
Later, we see her come into contact with Kiichi to demonstrate that even full-on strangers aren't exempt from her kind heart, but this means more. All we know is that these girls take Yugiri's dance class, and from the way they speak when we first meet them, it's clear Yugiri has a professional wall between herself and those she instructs. But she still treats them as she would the girls back in Shimabara. It's proof that, even in the past, Yugiri really was just as kind-hearted as in the present. It's a show don't tell kind of thing that just speaks so deeply to the writer in me. I love this smile. It's everything. Her smiles are everything. She's everything.
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batgurl1989 · 3 years
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A Wolf in Toussaint Chapter Four
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Summary: Geralt and You meet with the Duchess and go shopping in Beauclair
Word Count: 2828
Warnings: spoilers
A/N: this has not been proofread, so all the mistakes are my own. Tag list is open.
Taglist: @rmtndew @djinny-djin-djin @seanh-boredom @princesssterek @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @daddys-littlewhitegirl @diegos-butt @lharrietg
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five
When you had arrived at the palace, an attendant had shown you and Geralt to a wide balcony where lunch had been set up on a table. The Duchess was waiting, drumming her fingers on the table, a look of displeasure marring her face.
You had tried to be respectful and hurry over to the table, but your gaze got caught on the stunning view. From this height, Toussaint stretched out before you, the sun dappled the vineyard covered slopes. The sparkling rivers and lakes dazzled like gems tucked into the green blanket. It was such a contrast to Velen, and you found you couldn't stop staring.
Geralt's hand felt warm on your lower back as he guided you to the table. Your eyes snapped to the Duchess when you found yourself standing before her. A blush crept up your neck, painting your cheeks red. You weren't usually like this. You took in the Duchess and her elegant dress. Her chestnut hair was coiffed with a tiny tiara perched atop her head. You shuffled your feet, feeling underdressed for this meeting. You hadn't had time after being in awe of the city to stop for new boots, so you had to keep wearing your old ones. You were positive that your outfit screamed you had been on the road for many days.
"Duchess Anna Henrietta, this is Younin of Velen." Geralt covered for you. You were never comfortable giving people of great authority your full title as it raised more questions than you were willing to answer. Only a select few outside the Lodge knew your title, and you planned to keep it that way.
"You cannot stay here, Geralt." The Duchess practically growled from her seat across the table. Sitting back, she took a deep breath, fighting to be calm. She clenched and un-clenched her fists, resting her hands on the table. "I'm sorry, Geralt. But you being here has raised too many alarms."
"What alarms?" Geralt took the liberty of sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He gestured for you to sit as well, but didn't take his eyes off the Duchess.
"Word has followed you here from Novigrad." The Duchess aggressively slathered her bread in a pat of butter. Her eyes flicked to you before she turned her full attention back to the Witcher. "The King of Beggars is searching for Younin, and there is a hefty reward for information about her."
Your body jolted at this piece of news. So much had happened since the Vegelbud wedding, and even though you had questions, you thought you were safe in Toussaint while you recovered. Luck did not seem to be on your side, though, if the Duchess's word was to be trusted. At least you knew the news was shocking for Geralt as you watched his knuckles go white as he gripped his armrest tightly.
"Do you know what he wants with me?" Your voice sounded small, and perhaps a little frightened. Since the end of the war, people left you alone for the most part. Certainly no one wanted your head anymore. So what could the King want?
"There was not a lot of information on the wanted poster I saw, but he is willing to pay quite a high price for your whereabouts." The Duchess looked at you, sympathy swirling in her eyes. "So again, you cannot stay here. I love my people, but who knows what one is willing to do when offered that kind of money? People cannot be trusted."
"Very true." You admitted with a nod. You looked down at your hands in your lap, picking at your cuticle. You hated knowing that you were causing trouble simply by being there. "Perhaps I should head back to Velen. Back to the Inn. I can hide there."
"Not an option." Geralt was shaking his head before I had finished. "You don't know that he won't be waiting for you at the Inn, and if I go with you, it would draw attention. If I don't go with you, you will be a sitting duck."
"I'm not powerless." Anger flashed through me. I hated that I was once a powerful sorceress in the Lodge, and now, because I was out of practice, I was seen as weak. I could only imagine how Yennefer saw me now. "What other option do we have right now? We can't hide here, we can't go to Novigrad or Velen. Where am I supposed to go? If the King can reach Toussaint, I have no doubt he can reach Skellige."
"I am sorry to do this to you. I wish Toussaint could hide you." The Duchess sounded genuine as she leaned forward, reaching for you to offer some comfort. "In a land full of knights-errant, you would think we could be trusted to keep a secret, but that is simply not the case."
"I understand." And you really did understand, but it sucked either way. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you mind ran through your vastly dwindling options. Your eyes met Geralt's. "Maybe we should head back to Corvo Bianco, and talk to Yen? She might know where I can hide until we figure out our next move."
"I insist you stay for lunch. It's the least I can do after kicking you out of Toussaint." The Duchess's demeanor changed as she flashed a beautiful smile at both you and Geralt. "After all, I did have the palace chef make this wonderful spread for us."
"We wouldn't want it to go to waste." Geralt gave in much to your surprise. If you had been anywhere else, he would have waved away the request and set off on the quest. Your eyes flicked between the Witcher and the Duchess, trying to figure out what hold she may have on him.
"You can regale me with your recent adventures." The Duchess seemed pleased as she began serving herself from the multitude of platters and dishes spread across the table between you. She paused, a sandwich inches from being placed on her plate. A distressed look flitted across her face. "I hope you haven't come across any vampires."
"None that I couldn't handle." Geralt assured her, placed his hand over her free one.
The gesture seemed innocent enough, but the flare of jealous that ignited in you was anything but. You forced yourself to look away as your magic automatically came to life in your palms. You weren't even sure what element you were drawing, and inviting that chaos into you was dangerous. To distract yourself, you got up from the table and wandered over to the railing. Looking out over the fantastical land seemed to calm you, and you felt you could breathe again.
Dimly, you were aware of Geralt giving a play by play of your journey here. The Duchess was fully enthralled with the fight, adding gasps at all the appropriate spots. If you didn't know any better, you would say she was acting, but looking at her, she seemed genuine.
*************
"So next time we are going to meet with a Duchess, warn me if I need to dress up, please." You whispered as you left the palace. Your horses were waiting at the bottom of the steps to take you back to Corvo Bianco. As beautiful as everything was, you couldn't wait to leave the opulence behind.
"What do you mean?" Geralt's eyes slowly trailed over your body, taking in your outfit. Your cheeks warmed as his gaze felt like a physical touch.
Clearing your throat, you mentally shook yourself. You were glad you had reached the horses, and busied yourself with adjusting the girth. Gathering the reins in one hand, you sprang into the saddle without the help the groom was offering you. It felt good to be back in the saddle again. You had felt extremely out of place in the palace, like your rightful place was on horseback.
"Younin." Geralt's low voice rumbled through the space between you. You knew what he was asking, but didn't know if you could explain in a way the Witcher would understand.
"I just wasn't dressed properly. Toussaint is a far cry from Velen and Novigrad. Even Skellige." You settled for the simplest form of what you were feeling. Geralt may not feel the same about meeting royalty, but you were sure he could at least see where you were coming from. "It just would have been nice to at been dressed like I belonged."
"But you don't belong here." Geralt's words cut through you. Seeing the hurt that flashed in your eyes, he pressed on. "Palaces aren't for people like you and me. If they were, you would still be at court working for a king or queen. You belong out in the world, not sequestered in some stuffy throne room."
His words warmed your heart. Court life had never been for you, that's why you left it behind for a life as an herbalist, pedaling your magic on the side. You offered Geralt a small smile, trying to convey what his words meant to you. The Witcher nodded, turning his horse on to the road out of the palace.
"I'm sorry your idea for hiding out here didn't work out." You wanted to reach for him, to offer him comfort. You had no idea what your next move was going to be. Unless you and Geralt stuck to the Path, and kept moving. But with how the King operated, you figured he would catch up to you eventually.
"Let's worry about getting you new boots before we worry about the King. Nothing can be decided before we get back to Corvo Bianco." Geralt offered you a quick, rare smile. It seemed like he was looking forward to buying you new things, but you knew that couldn't be right. This was Geralt.
"It's my own fault, really. I got so caught up in the wonders of this city, that we ran out of time." You mentally had been kicking yourself about it the whole lunch. On the flip side, you wouldn't have done anything different if given the chance. You adored the sights and sounds of this city, and couldn't wait to relish in them again.
"Come. I know exactly where we will get you boots." Geralt turned his horse down a side street. Up ahead you could hear the clamour of an outdoor market. Light music was playing, and you could hear people singing.
"Where are you taking me? To a fair or to a market?" You jested, but the atmosphere was getting to you again. A smile lit up your face as the music drew you in. The closer you got, the more elated you became.
"In Beauclair, they are one and the same." Geralt flashed you another smile. Something about this place was bringing out a side of him you didn't normally get to see.
When you reached the centre of Hauteville, you found all sorts of upper class citizens mingling about as artists and merchants sold their wares along the side of the street and out of store fronts. Geralt and you tied off your horses near a fountain, and began to wander. So many things caught your eye. You weren't one who normally like jewelry, but the pieces here made even your eye covetous.
"This way." Geralt guided you with a hand on your lower back toward a stain glassed store front. Through the coloured window, you could see shoes and boots on display. "After you."
Geralt pulled the door open for you, but the angle was awkward and you had to duck under his arm. Passing this close to his body only made you realize that it had been so long since you two had had a moment alone that you weren't rushing off somewhere or injured. A heat blazed in Geralt's golden depths, letting you know he was having similar thoughts. You bit your lower lip, trying to squash those thoughts since you were in public.
Once in side, the comforting scent of leather wafted around you. It reminded you of riding across Velen and Toussaint, of the scent Geralt had when he cleaned his armour. Closing your eyes briefly, you took a deep breath, letting the calm it brought wash over you. But then you opened your eyes, taking in all the beautiful footwear surrounding you.
"Are you sure these aren't art?" You gasped, whispering to Geralt. You didn't want to ruin someone's artwork with weeks on the road. Geralt laughed, but before he could say anything, the shop owner came bustling over.
"Ah, I see the lady has an appreciative eye. You humble me, my lady." The shopkeep gave you both a slight bow, a wide smile plastered on his face. If he noticed the state of your clothes and boots, he didn't let on, which you did appreciate.
"I seem to have wrecked my pair of boots, but I don't know if I can buy any of these. They are all too beautiful for what I need." You gestured to the shoes on the display nearest you.
"What is the point of a good shoe if it won't be worn?" The shopkeep waved away your concern, taking your hand in both of his to lead you to a padded stool. "Come. Come. Let me see if we can't find you something you will adore."
Geralt stood behind your shoulder, his arms crossed as he watched the shopkeep bring you pair after pair of shoes and ankle boots. None of them seems quite right to you, though. Every once in a while he would let out a sound you could only describe as a rumble, and you knew he agreed that they weren't the right shoes for you. All the shoes were ridiculously beautiful, but none of them would serve you well on the road.
"Do you have anything in a knee high?" You ventured to ask after turning down what felt like the twentieth pair of shoes. You didn't like feeling like a burden, but with each pair you dismissed, the guilt formed a larger ball in the pit of your stomach.
"Ah! I have just the thing!" The shopkeep announced after thinking for a moment. The elation on his face eased the guilt a bit, and you hoped this pair was going to be it.
Your eyes lit up when he brought you a pair of knee high boots. The leather had been tanned an unique reddish brown. The fur lining let you know that they would be warm, which was perfect for the road, especially up North. You stroked the laces that ran up the whole length of the boot. As beautiful as these boots were, you weren't afraid to wear them on the road.
"They are perfect." Your eyes traced over them again. You watched as the shopkeep undid the laces before handing them to you. You slide your feet into them, tightening the laces. They fit perfectly. "These are the boots."
"How much?" Geralt directed his question to the shopkeep before you could ask. You opened your mouth to protest, but a stern look from Geralt kept you silent.
You looked down at your new boots to hide the blushing smile on your face. A warm feeling stretched out from your chest, filling your limbs all the way to your fingers and toes. It felt strange to have Geralt buy things for you when you were perfectly capable of buying them yourself. It was a nice feeling, but you weren't accustomed to being doted on. You began to think of ways you could pay him back.
"Ready?" Geralt laid a warm hand on your shoulder, grabbing your attention. He shifted his hand off of you so he was offering it to you. You looked up at him as took his hand.
"Absolutely." You grinned as he twined his fingers with yours, leading you out of the shop. You waved over your shoulder to the shopkeep, who was beaming at the both of you. "Thank you for all your help."
"My pleasure, dear." The shopkeep waved as the door closed behind you.
"Well?" Geralt looked down at you, a small genuine smile curving his lips. When you didn't answer, he gestured down to your boots. "What do you think?"
"I adore them." You stood on your tiptoes, steadying yourself with a hand in his shoulder. You leaned in close as he turned his head, his gold eyes searching your face. "Best gift a guy has ever gotten me."
You brought your lips to his, enjoying the brief feel of him. It was a quick kiss, and did not even come close to conveying your feelings. But it would have to do since you were in public. The ride back to the vineyard was going to be long, but you couldn't wait to show him how you truly felt.
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