1. Arianrhod


    Date: 9/14/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: BethanyFrasier, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    travel?" "I'm not sure, Sire. This forest is unfamiliar to me, your Grace. Maybe the signs posted when we detoured were wrong?" "Where is the map the Knight gave us?" the Abbot moaned, "Surely you can follow a map, can't you, lad?" "The map does not show this road. I have been following the sun to keep us headed in the right direction, but we have passed many side-paths that aren't on the map either." "Bahhh! We are going to miss Sunday mass!" the Abbot fumed, and disappeared inside the cart again. "Come inside, boy! We will undress, and sleep till morning. We must keep each other warm yet another lonely night!" * * * Arianrhod uncovered the basket she had filled with fresh Morels gathered from the edge of the woods, and dumped them into a pile on the wooden table where Murhwyn sat, stretching a pigeon's stomach with a small, wooden pestle. Arianrhod displayed no curiosity at the strange activity. Instead, she pulled Meghyn from her seat in the corner to dance around the room with her, to a melody she had heard in her mind, as the breeze whistled through the treetops during her hunt for mushrooms. They whirled and twirled in crazy circles around the table until they were dizzy, then Meghyn collapsed in Arianrhod's lap in the chair across from their mother. "Will you be so carefree on your wedding night, child?" her step-mother asked. "What do you imagine the Abbot will do when he finds no blood on his cock?" Arianrhod's eyes widened, then cast downwards over her sister's ...
    shoulders. "He will say I'm a whore, and I will be one for fucking another man when my bridegroom sits alone in our house, suffering like a cuck!" She gave Meghyn a playful push from her lap to the other empty chair. "You will bring shame to your name, girl, and to your husband's!" said the old crone. "It will be difficult for you, unless we take steps to..." "The shame is in the act of the Abbot, stealing what belongs to Padrig." Arianrhod interrupted impetuously. "What belongs to Padrig seems to have already been stolen, unless Padrig himself was the thief, my winsome daughter. To whom have you lost it then?" "Does it really matter? If I bear Padrig a son before a year is out, who is to say it will even be his? Is that not a greater theft?" "You make me wonder, daughter, if you are marrying Padrig to cover your own indiscretion with another." "Mother!" Meghyn interjected. "You know the law of the first night. You will be discovered!" warned the witch. "I have denied the Church my virginity, Mother. Whatever they do to me, I shall have that small victory, at least." Arianrhod looked over at Meghyn and smiled. Her sister reached out and grasped her hands in hers, but a tear sparkled in her eye. * * * The wedding was a small affair, celebrated upon the day of the Moon. The whole borough turned out to receive the couple and fete their union, after the vicar had performed the ceremony in the churchyard. Arianrhod was bedecked with flowers, and baby's breath was woven through her ...
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