The meeting went on for longer than I expected and I was dismissed after lunch. Now I was brought to an abandoned lounge where two little girls were being schooled by another older woman on the etiquette of proper tea with other women in the courts. Their hand movements were shaped and guided, proper sipping techniques, and much more about how to hold yourself while you are in the presence of others.
I sat to the side while the girls were listening to their teacher. I made sure that I paid attention as well so that I would have some measure of learning when I would join the court. It would be damning to be uncouth and end up thrown out because of some minor mishap of my hand or sipping techniques. I began to play a light and soft tune quietly as to not disturb the girls and their lesson. However, they immediately got distracted by the music. The teacher scolded them that it was often that a lord or lady would have music playing to give ambiance to a meeting.
When their lesson was concluded they crowded around me and brought chairs with themselves. The girls each had long curly hair, Patricia and her older sibling whose name I hadn’t gotten yet sat properly and looked at me.
Patricia with boldness spoke, “I was told that we would get someone to tell us a story today. Is that going to be you?”
I smiled as benevolently as I could as I inclined my head to her, “I am Dolan Talespinner, I’ll be entertaining you today and have many many stories that I could tell you. What would you most enjoy to hear?”
Patricia’s eyes went wide as her older sibling scoffed at the offer, “Minstrels are the ones that should know what their betters desire. I shall look past this offense as you don’t know what kind of stories we like yet. Patricia is fond of any stories that have to do with the elusive and cruel fae in the world. Why don’t you tell us one of those?”
“As you wish.”
Long ago a young swan drifted along in a secluded lake far into nature. It rippled with wind that whispered the secrets of the forest around it. The rustling of leaves and the soft sounds of the birds that swam in it were all that could be heard around the clearing. In the center of the group swam the largest swan in all the lands. It was tall, graceful, with feathers as white as fresh snow drifting down lazily from the sky. Many hunters had come to the clearing only to find that they didn’t have the heart to attack such a beautiful being such as the swan.
However the swan had a secret heartbreak. None of the others would nest with her. They wouldn’t allow her the honor of bearing children into the world for they did not see the beauty she held compared to the other smaller birds that were hunted for their meat and feathers. One day while the moons were full and silvery in the skies above a man of impossible grace came into the clearing. In his hands he held a set of pipes and he began to play them.
The swans were taken with the music and started to dance with the music that drifted through the air from his skilled lips and the magic of the sounds he let loose captivated all. The largest of the swans though was not swayed with the music but still it approached. As the others danced around her she boldly stepped out of the water to the amazement of the graceful man. His music stopped but the swans still danced as if driven to madness that needed them to move.
“I see you are not enraptured by my music large one. May I know your name?”
The swan honked in warning that the man was not welcome here in these parts but he did not heed it.
“I know you are more than what you seem. Something so magical does not come without interference from the gods. Now tell me who you are creature.”
The swan narrowed her eyes and spoke with a voice as smooth as silk and unforgiving of the graceful man, “I am the Weaver of Tales. I do not appreciate you intruding on this peaceful life I have decided to have and wish that you would leave me to my peace.”
The man bowed deeply, “I am Piper of dreams. I am no enemy of yours I only wish to bring happiness and dance to all the creatures of the land. I see that you do not enjoy my music. Perhaps you think you could do better?”
Curiosity burned deep in the Weaver. She had never done anything with music but the sounds of a challenge sounded like something she might be able to sway the others with. Maybe if she could play the same music as this man she could finally share her stories with the others. Maybe bring some form of greater intelligence to them all.
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With trepidation Weaver spoke, “I don’t know how you have weaved your spells upon the flock I watch over. I would like to know how this works so that one day I might be able to bring them a greater understanding of the world around them. What can I do to earn such a gift?”
Piper smiled and there was a hidden sense of wickedness deep inside that look on his face. “I ask that you be a Queen for five years. That you rule over these beings and bring down all that would attack them. I bid that you protect this glade from any that would come to destroy it. For that I will teach you how to play these pipes as I play them. So that you can weave more than tales and weave music instead. What say you, five years as the protector of this realm. In exchange I’ll teach you.”
Weaver didn’t know the dangers of making deals with the fae and foolishly agreed to the deal with a nod of her long neck. In that moment she bowed her head the fae flashed quickly forward and threw a necklace over her long neck. Magic laced through her and a cage of ephemeral light came down from the moons and made the clearing a cage with bars that could only be seen by her.
“A deal made that cannot be broken. Know this, you will serve well to protect all the swans here. Let no hunter succeed and I will come back in five years to free you and teach you the ways of magic music.”
“Do you not honor your deal now and teach me.”
“I never said when I would teach you my ways. When you are done I will teach you what you want to know. Until then you are bound here to protect your flock of fools. Now I’ll see you with my hunting party, you best make it fun.”
Horrified, the Weaver looked on as the man disappeared in silvery moonlight and she beat her wings mightily scattering the dust he turned into through the wind. “Foul trickster! You will know my wrath soon enough!.”
With a mighty honk the weaver freed her followers of the dancing madness and their minds instantly dulled back to their usual dim selves and they went about looking for their food and picking at the growing algae and insects in the water. Great disappointment lined the beautiful face of the new Swan Queen.
No more than a day later a hunter came. With her supernatural senses the Weaver knew that a danger had come. She beat her wings and brought forth a gale of mighty winds that struck arrows from the air as they soared at one of her many charges. She charged with fury and hissed a warning of death and destruction upon those that would harm her flock. The hunter instead launched arrow after arrow at the Weaver trying to strike her down.
Never in all her life in the clearing had someone been so bold as to attack her. It seemed that the necklace around her neck caused the most animalistic and harsh violence from the hunters. With fury she danced back and forth from the lashing dagger as the man charged and tried to plunge it into her neck. She hissed and snapped breaking fingers and tearing skin in their battle. The man soon knowing that he was outclassed by this magnificent beast retreated. As the Swan Queen chased after him those bars of silvery moonlight crashed down in front of her and the man escaped easily now that she wasn’t able to chase him.
Every day the man came back to try and hunt them. Each day he grew hungrier for the blood of the swans and she could see a growing madness in him. Then when he was at the peak of his fury the fae returned. He was riding a stag and looked at the mad man and howled with great bloodlust. “You have primed my prey now I will hunt this man and bring him down like the creatures he attacks now.”
Weaver was horrified. Not only was she tricked but she was bait as well for those that would harm the swans. Some magic had driven the hunter to madness that he could only quench with hurting the most beautiful of birds. The stag kicked hard and trampled the great Swan Queen. Her wings crunched and bent with the weight of the beast. She was wounded in a moment of distraction and limped herself back to the waters. She called to the magic that laced the very pond and begged that it heal her so that she could protect those that lived here. It took her weeks as she heard the cries of the hunter man for her to heal from the wounding the fae man had done to her.
Each month a new man would come and be driven mad by the magic the fae had put on the birds. They grew more and more skilled as well, their arrows harder to deflect. When the fae man would come and hunt them at the peak of their madness he would always wound the Swan Queen. This would anger the swan and she grew to hate the man. More than she hated the fact that she was trapped in the pond. The other swans didn’t know what was going on. Their minds never having grown from the magic that was woven by the fae.
Madness started to seep into the Swan Queen’s mind as the pain and weight of protecting the ever growing flock. Swanlings were flourishing and the insects and other sources of food never seemed to wane. Each of the others grew plumper and fatter with each passing month as the years ticked by slowly.
Weaver grew crooked and bent. The constant maiming from Piper having ruined her beautiful form now she was twisted, molting, and the other swans looked at her with fear. She had grown covetous of the most beautiful of her flock and pampered them greatly.
Then the day came that the bargain ended. The Piper returned and he had grown fat from devouring the men that had been defeated and exhausted by the Swan Queen. He smiled at her with delight as he plucked the necklace from her neck and it dissolved into silver moonlight. “You’ve done well. Not only have all your swans survived but the flock has grown.”
Plucking from the air he produced a set of pipes and began to play them once more. He danced and so did the swans. Weaver, whose mind had been weakened from the constant vigilance of protecting the flock, was unable to fight off the music this time and her body painfully danced with the others. Her twisted wings scraped with agony through the water. Her mind grew muddled as they walked and danced through the lands until the world twisted and they found themselves in a clearing with other fae beings of impossible beauty and grace.
The fattened swans had no chance against them. They descended upon the flock with large cleaving knives and harvested the plump birds. Weaver couldn’t do anything but dance though as she watched in horror as the beings she had spent so long protecting were stuck down and plucked why she was enslaved by the dance. She was forced to celebrate their demise as she wept tears of pain and agony.
Piper harvested her tears as she begged for release. When her flock was cooked and on spits the music finally ended and she collapsed.
“I’ll teach you now if you still desire.”
Weaver the Swan Queen did not desire to learn any longer. She desired vengeance.
“That fair ladies is the end of our tale. I hope you enjoyed it.”
Patricia looked enraptured, “That is why you never deal with fae. They are cruel tricksters. I do hope the Swan Queen got her revenge. You never hear that part of the story.”
I did get my revenge. I reaped them like wheat. They were not prepared for my wrath and though they had seen that I was more than a swan then they didn’t know the extent of my power. I hated fae greatly for their trickery and wrongdoings. I hoped one day I would seal them away for good.