The Fairy king leaned back in his chair and looked with a thoughtful countenance at the young girl before him. She was short and feisty, and her sand-colored hair stood out in tangled bunches all around her head. Her cheeks were rosy from sleep, her once-blind eyes still leaked tears of joy and she let her mouth hang open unashamedly as she took in all the new sights with her restored vision. The gentle mellow colors of Virthum dresses, the broad brows of the assembled Council, the creeping gray stench that was pervading the cool marble room...it was all wonderful and mysterious, and Fiddlis loved it all. She grinned widely at all the Fairies, beautiful creatures she could now see with her own two eyes. In turn, the Fairies watched as Stara Underwild led the little girl over to one of the carven cedar chairs and picked her up to sit upon it. They saw the gentleness with which she treated the little human girl-child, as she might treat one of her own young Fairy cousins.
After making sure the little girl was made comfortable and felt safe amongst the presence of these, Stara's stern noble people, she sat down upon her own chair with a shy glance at the raven-eyed king and a rustle of Virthum cloth. The king allowed a carefully small smile to shape his thin tight lips, and then he rubbed the dew drop crown resting upon his brown forehead and turned his attention to the little girl, who was wildly looking about her, drinking in all the glorious new sights like so much sweet water, as if she could never get enough of it, as if her very soul thrived upon sight. And indeed, perhaps Fiddlis's soul was made of something more than the other highlander children's souls. She sought after Life with a rare vivacity, as something to catch hold of, something dear to treasure, and something never ever to let go of, no matter the cost. It would have to be a great power that would ever convince Fiddlis, a poor orphan with a bright quick mind and a spirited soul, to give up her Life for it. Something great, indeed.
"You are the human girl-child, then?" asked the king in his rolling rich deep voice, yet it was more of a statement. Fiddlis looked at him in surprise and nodded. She liked to look at him; his face was kissed tan by the sun, his long Virthum robes flowed around his leathern sandals like a periwinkle waterfall, his long fingers curled idle about his wooden throne. The soft blue jewel in his thin crown rested above and between his eyes like a single tear, like a lament for something forgotten that should have been remembered. Fiddlis sat in the midst of a Fairy Council thinking these thoughts and kicking her heel against the cedar wood chair in which she so happily sat. Never in her lifetime would she have thought to actually fear these kind and majestic folk; their faces were so quiet, so peaceful...Fiddlis felt quite at ease and stared the king in the face with an excited expression, still not over the wonderful miracle that she could see. With her own two eyes! She could not wait to look into a piece of glass, one that had not been broken like so many pieces in her Auntie's highland cottage, and to find out what color her own eyes were.
"You have caused quite a stir in this, our home, the Riverlands," went on the king. Fiddlis straightened in surprise. "Me?" she asked. "Me, I have?" She contemplated this as the king nodded.
"To think, one so small could cause so much excitement!" muttered one Elder. He was quickly silenced by a look from the king. Now that the girl-child was at ease, he did not want anything to hinder his purpose for bringing her to their sacred Council.
"What is happening in the rest of the Lands?" asked the king. Fiddlis grew thoughtful and puffed out her chest with the honor of telling the Fairy king and his people something they did not know.
"Ah yes, the Lands," she said in a pompous voice. Stara smiled into the collar of her dress. "Well, King Wenceslas the Second is being naughty!"
The Fairy king looked around at his Council and saw grave looks. "How so?" he asked the little human girl.
"I do not know all about it," said Fiddlis apologetically, "since my Auntie and I lived in the highlands until those nasty Yule tree-beasts attacked me and your nice Fairy men brought me here." Several Elders were shocked to discover that, unlike the people of Crescent and Warwick, this young child harbored no ill will against them. Rather, she seemed to enjoy their company as she nestled into a more convenient position in her chair and looked around at the Fairy Council. "But I hear the highlander folk in my village talking all the time about how the King hates the outcast people he calls the Hinterlanders, and how he takes every chance he can to perse...perse...persecute them." Fiddlis hated how the evil word twisted her tongue.
The king rose and his height far exceeded that of the other Fairies as they rose to stand with him. "My companions, the faithful," began the king in a strained voice, "we are now faced with an important decision." Fiddlis saw Stara standing and decided to stand, too. She felt very small and vulnerable, yet the recollection of the king of the Fairies beyond the Lands and beyond the King's rule actually asked her for information was still fresh in her bright little mind, and she would never let that big warm wonderful feeling fade. Her attention snapped back to the Council when all of a sudden, a young Fairy squire with bright red hair burst through the two great doors and landed with a lithe kneel before the king.
"What is the meaning of this?" bellowed the Fairy king. Fiddlis shrank behind Stara as a blackness seemed to fill the smooth sad faces. "Why do you intrude upon our private gathering?" The young squire gritted his teeth; his offense was not well-taken by the Fairies and they muttered amongst themselves.
"Forgive me, oh king," said the squire. "Yet I have news that might aid your decision whether or not to return to the Lands with your army and help to beat back the tyrant King Wenceslas the Second."
The king sank back into his throne, as the Council quieted and sat back upon their carven chairs. "Speak on; we will listen to what you have to say," said the king. The squire hid a relieved smile and remained kneeling before the throne.
"Today, at the falling of twilight, there is to be an outcast punished for refusing to be drafted into the King's army." The Fairies broke into an excited angry chattering and the king had to rise and hold up his hands before it sank into hissing whispers. Fiddlis crossed her arms and thought, How dare that fat old king punish a poor man just because he does not want to be a soldier! Her cheeks were now flushed with more than the peace of recent slumber.
"We have a chance to save this poor fellow; he is barely a man!" continued the squire. The king leaned back and stoked his sharp clean-shaven chin. The Fairies' suddenly stopped their talk and huffy sighs when the doors opened once again, bringing in a cloaked and hooded figure upon the foul-smelling winds. The king straightened as he recognized the old mysterious Virthum weaver, who lived by herself on the wilder fringe of the Riverland.
"Why have we the honor of being graced by your presence here this day?" asked the king respectfully. Fiddlis shivered at the mysterious sight of the Virthum weaver and hid in Stara's long lean shadow, thankful for her motherly comfort.
The humped-over old Fairy woman straightened slowly and the cloak fell from her shoulders; it crumpled to the still marble floor and lay in a dark wadded heap, slowly shivering to the ground like a dying thing.
The old weaver's face was wrinkled and brown, like an autumn nut, as she moved gracefully to the center of the Council and stood facing the king, her wild snowy hair standing in tight curls all about her head.
"I have come to tell you a tale," said the Virthum weaver. Her work-worn fingers caressed the vine belt she wore and played around the jewel encrusted hilt of a small dagger at her side. She was an Elder, but wished to claim for herself no "high and mighty title", and so only took advantage of her given power when she felt it was needed.
The Fairies looked at each other a bit nervously. The Virthum weaver so infrequently came from her Riverland-fringe home that when that blaze was ignited in her dark blue eyes, they must heed it with all their souls.
"It is about something which happened to me, many years ago, and it will disprove the blatant lies the King spreads about us Fairies." The Fairy king nodded his consent and Fiddlis relaxed back into her chair. The weaver suffered a grin to break her serious face and she spread her skirts in the middle of the Council circle and began her tale as all the Fairies leaned forward to pay close attention.
"I was married to a tall, handsome human knight. He was brave and had obsidian black hair. I loved him with all of my being, for he was just and wise and respected me like no other creature I knew to respect anyone. We were happily wed for five years, in which he bore me a healthy baby boy and a precious beautiful daughter." The Fairies smiled to themselves to see the spark of mother-love alighted in the deep brilliant blue eyes. Many of them had children of their own, and well knew the treasure it was to raise wise and good children. Yet still they were stunned that a pure blooded Fairy would stoop to marry a human man, however handsome and kind he might have been.
The Virthum weaver must have sensed this, for her face was masked by a fierce far-away expression and she stared right into the king's eyes. "Whether or not a man is born human or Fairy, that does not measure the worth of his Life. I knew the human knight for a long while before I married him. He was a knight, not of the treacherous King Wenceslas the First, but of a Being who ruled his Life, and whom he called the Great One. Yes, Council, I married one of the Shaddai-Trusters and loved every moment I spent with him. Call me odd; call me crazy and disrespectful to our ancient customs...call me anything, but I loved this knight and knew his heart like no one had ever understood it. Eventually I became a one of the Shaddai-Trust." The Fairies gasped with one breath. This was madness! The Fairy woman before them was confessing things of her past no other Fairy would have dared to speak loud. But the king looked about his Council with such a ferocious face that they were hastily reprimanded into a subtle sulk. They held such a fierce grudge against the humans, those dirty beasts that called themselves men.
The weaver gave a sneering laugh. "I am no longer of that faith. I was not strong enough to bear such pain as came upon me soon after my conversion to the Hinterlanders." Fiddlis bit her bottom lip and looked with sympathy at the broken-hearted Fairy woman sitting on the marble floors with bowed head. She thought she saw a single sparkling tear course down the down wrinkles, but perhaps it was her restored sight playing tricks upon her. "One dark midnight, the human kind came and stole away my children." A gasp of rage ripped through the Fairy Council. This was appalling. The worst offense one could possible commit! The Virthum weaver nodded grimly and raised her eyes to the king. "If there be any way to aid the innocent, we must surely grasp it. If only to avenge my dear stolen children, please help the poor human boy."
Fiddlis paid no attention to the tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. It was all so pitiful, so sad that she suddenly leapt up and faced the king, unafraid of his steady black gaze.
"I want to help the boy," she shouted. "The King of the Lands is bad and his Life is being lived wrong. We must help the innocent!"
A free, wild smile broke apart the king's austere face and he called of the guards standing at the ready outside the door.
"Tell our army to ready their weapons," he said.
Only Fiddlis saw the fiercely happy smile that rent the Virthum weaver's face as she caught up her cloak and disappeared again into the putrid swirling mists invading the sunny Riverland.
