Admiring Midir (A fairytale retold)

(Image – statue of Midir and Etain by Éamon O’Doherty at Ardagh Heritage and Creativity Centre)

(Story written for Midir and Etain Anthology, digital copy available here: https://www.creativeardaghcraftshop.com/shop/p/midirandetaindigital?rq=midir%20and%20Etain%20anthology%20)

Here and now and there and then, there lived a man who never lived, under the mountain that is just a hill but a mountain none the less to those who have none.

This man was and is and will be, a magical man, a mystical creature of fabulous beauty with flashing bright eyes that transform from deep dark pools of murky brown to clear shining lakes of crystal blue. 

He was and is and will be, of magnificent stature, not quite a man and not quite a God. He stands tall amongst mortals, small amongst Deities, yet holds his own with them all.

His hair is a mane of glossy gold silk, his skin glows brightly with light from within. A fine man, was, is and will be he or so he thought and thinks and will think. And perhaps so do we.

When he loved and was loved, this God of a man and man of a God, life was young, new, strange and unknown. The rules that we know were not written, nor spoken and nothing surprised, yet everything did. He ruled over many with a kind heart, cared for his people as father to child.

He loved and was loved and was married in bliss, then he spied a young beauty that send him adrift.

What a vision she was this young girl that he spied. She had long golden hair and snow white skin, ruby lips and green emerald eyes. Her limbs were those of a dancer.

Long and elegant she flowed as she moved o’er the hills and down to the stream where she washed her glistening threads of gold with porcelain hands.

What more could you want?

She sang as she washed, an enchanting tune, not seeing this man nor noticing how he was falling for her. As she sang her light shone and he drifted towards her as a moth in the night to a flame that will burn.

When he came to her side she was startled and shy but his beauty is hard to resist. He stared in her eyes and in no time at all she agreed to be wed to a man she just met!

They came back to his palace upon his white horse. His wife was not pleased but what could she do, this was time with no rules of her man who just ruled. Her husband was powerful, much loved by all. She could do nothing a while, only stall, but she soon had enough and jealousy struck.She transformed the young sprite to a puddle of muck.

The girl changed yet again in front of her eyes and became a beautiful butterfly. She fluttered around for a time……. Quite a while.

She was reborn again as a mortal child and grew, happy and unaware of her past. He found her but lost her again and again and many were lost because of his deeds. An interesting road appeared in a bog leading nowhere and everywhere, all just for love. Our times came fast and his kind hid below, under the mountain, or hill, what you will. Perhaps we smell.

That’s a short version of a tale, of love and romance with foolishness playing its part. A story with twists and turns and intrigue, many of which I have left for you to explore, be inspired and create many more. Google Midir, Étain, Celtic love, Brí Leith, Sidhe. It is there as everything is and each version changes much like the wind.

And they all lived happily ever after……..

THE END

AGS 2015

Shes of the Sidhe

(Image is a still from animation by Mary Smyth commissioned by Longford Tourism https://vimeo.com/296777722)

I had been warned not to look into his eyes, that his magic clouds your mind. He makes you think you want to do what he wants you to do. Thousands of hungry, tired men willingly cut down a forest to build a futile road in a bog for a forfeit. Many died. His magic is strong. He mithered them for his pride as he mithered me.

I knew that he wanted me. I met my love when he was buying me for him. We loved each other on first sight but it was not to be. My love is loyal to him. My love helped another pair who followed in our footsteps many moons on from when we met. Their deeds were recorded though ours were missed. Our secret remained a secret until now.

I was taking a chance, being out there, washing my hair. I foolishly thought I was safe. My maidens were with me.  I knew it was him. I felt his dark presence. He frightened yet excited me. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, determined to remain safe from his stare. He lifted me gently, yet forcefully. “Open your eyes and look at me” he commanded. I resisted as much as I was able, for as long as I could but on hearing my maidens scurrying away like rabbits, I lost control of my thoughts,”Don’t leave me” I cried as I opened my eyes and looked deep into the pools of enchantment before me.

I found myself going with him, mounting his horse, wrapping my arms around his broad chest, leaning my head on his back, my love a dream in my mind, fading.

When we arrived at his palace she cried out.”What have you done? She is just a child!” She grabbed me and held me, whispering in my ear. I held her tight and wept for my mother. “You have to stop, you can’t just take what you want, own it all, possess everything.” She shouted at him. Her power amazed me. The strength in her arms, in her voice. He looked at her sadly and left us a while. “You’ll bring death to us all yet.” she whispered.

History has not been kind to her. It very rarely is to strong powerful women that frighten men. Men who write history for men. That is why you don’t know the truth, my truth and hers. You know men’s truth. Her truth is that she was a loving mother and a strong clever woman. Her truth is that she mothered me and set me free. I wanted to go and she knew this.

I grew to love her. She showed me her magic. She commanded the wind. She transformed life. She told me how she never had a choice and was his from birth. She bore a child and another and loved them so dearly she never could leave. She was strong for her children and wise beyond years. Her knowledge was deep. She learned to love and understand her Proud King in time. “He does not mean to harm” she said. ” He sees love and joy and wants to possess it. He is kind, he loves his children, he loves me, he loves his people, he loves his fosterson as his own. Pride is the cross he carries that will hurt us all”

I jumped at her mentioning his fosterson. Should I reveal it? Does she already know? I told her all. She cried out when she heard. “Oh no this cannot be, he will kill him, he will kill you. No!”. But I cried and I wept in my pain so she vowed to help me. She selflessly made him think she got rid of me and not that I ran away. She warned me to never let the truth be known. “He will not let it be seen that your heart is with another.” She transformed me and sent me on the winds to my love who knew me at once for our connection is strong. That time in heaven was blissful. Our love was deep and we entwined our bodies, our souls and our minds. My Aenghus cared for me by day and I loved him by night. My life, My God of Love. 

He never stopped searching for me. He never let anything leave him. He very nearly had me again when he bewitched me with his ways, drawing me away from my love, compromising my truth, playing to my caring nature and my fascination with his power. She came and saved me again. We knew we couldn’t reveal the truth of my love and I, that it was not to be for now or maybe ever more. She sent me off on the wind again to get away. My turmoil from within kept me afloat longer than intended. I must have absorbed some of her magic in the spell. When finally I rested I found myself fall. The darkness came, the end arrived, or so I thought. 

I’m really not sure how long I slept. I woke because the Proud King came. I found myself sitting beside a mortal man. I was confused. I dreamt of my past life, I saw my love, my fear and her in my dreams by night. By day I walked with this mortal king, a handsome man. He seemed to love me in  the way the Proud King did, as his possession and not the way my God of Love had loved. I played my part, not recognising these mortals who spoke as if they knew me all my life. The woman I called Mother, the man Father, this King to whom I was married. I recognised none of them. I only recognised him, the Proud King who wanted to possess me again. I went with him because I knew him. We were of a kind. My training from his wife stayed with me and I transformed us into swans. We flew away and back to the only home I remembered. 

He had changed while I was gone and so had I. I wept to find she had passed to the other side in a most horrific way. I wept because my Aenghus, my God of Love had loved another after I had gone, but so had I though I didn’t recall a moment. The Proud King knew, he said he always knew. He loved them all but his want for me was greater so he sacrificed them all. He was tormented by this need and his guilt. He quickly found I was with child and vowed to treat her as his own. He was a good father I grant him that. I grew to love him. We lived in peace for a while.

It seems that all men have this fault, be they mortal or immortal. My mortal husband Eochaidh’s pride was hurt and so he came to bring devastation to us all. He reduced our mighty mountain to a little hill and took his daughter and mine as his own. Men have injured for their pride amd deep hunger from the dawn of time and will be the destruction of Mother Earth in the end unless we rise again oh Shes of Sidhe!

AGS 2015

Story written for Midir and Etain Anthology, 2015. Digital versions still available here: https://www.creativeardaghcraftshop.com/shop/p/midirandetaindigital