Author Prologue
As told in my description, this fic is based on events in the short story, "The True Enchanter", found in the collection of Prydain stories entitled The Foundling: and other Tales of Prydain. A sweet fable, it introduces the reader to Princess Angharad of Llyr, mother of Eilonwy, and her forbidden elopement with a common man after the eligible enchanters who come to court her fail to impress.
But "based on" is a loose term; The Disney Abomination is "based on" the first two books of the series, and we know how that turned out. In the case of this fic, it's fair to say that "based on" means I ripped the pages from my battered copy of The Foundling, folded them into origami boats, and sent them sailing on an ocean named Conjecture. Given my usual adherence to canon, the accusation of taking enormous liberties is one I am sensitive to, so this prologue serves as both my disclaimer and my explanation of my thought process in this, the most complex piece of fanfic I have yet attempted.
The stories in The Foundling have always felt to me very stylized; they have the structure and style almost of an oral tradition; read aloud they sound, appropriately, like bardic legends. And legends are…legendary. They get stretched, edited, embellished, cut; they evolve to fit the ends of those who tell them, or the appropriateness of their audience, which is why we wind up with maddening inconsistencies between, say, the branches of the Mabinogion, where some mortal characters seem to live ageless for centuries while others live and die, or even show up in stories that chronologically precede their own births.
In that style, I think of "The True Enchanter" as a simplified fairy tale, a sweet and simple romance told as a bedtime story to the children of Prydain, a moral lesson to remind them that true worth is found within, in this land where a peasant can marry a princess and a pig-keeper be crowned king. As such, it works, but in my obsessive mind, discontent with all but exhaustive analysis of this mythical world that feels so real to me, the story raises more questions than it answers.
How does a shrewd, powerful, strong-willed young woman (qualities which are evident in the story) fall into the love-at-first-sight trope? How does she reconcile with her conscience over an elopement wherein she removes the powerful magical elements that, it is inferred in The Castle of Llyr, serve to keep the place safe? Did she know their absence would leave Llyr so vulnerable? What, besides a fancy for a man she had literally just laid eyes on, charming though he is in comparison to the other options (and on that note, why are all the enchanters who court her such assholes?), would induce her to abandon her throne and her people to possible destruction?
There had to be more.
Moreover, the more I considered Achren's multiple kidnappings of Eilonwy in light of her actions in The Castle of Llyr, the more curious I became. Why did Achren invest so much of her power into this one Hail Mary move; how did she know about Eilonwy to begin with, and what is her connection to Caer Colur and the history of Llyr? So many mysteries, waiting to be explored.
Explore them I have, in wee-hour conversations with fellow enthusiasts, trading theories, playing with ideas, cracking jokes, blissfully happy. Very, very slowly, the bones of a story began to take shape. Plot has never been my strength; I love character and dialog and navel-gazing, but plotting is more like navigation, and steering a ship from point A to Z without missing any of those tricky welsh vowels on the way has been a challenge, as has narrowly avoiding running off the map into the areas labeled Beyond this Place There Be Monsters.
Nevertheless, I am enjoying the journey. The story, as stories do, has quickly morphed into something with its own will, dragging me along where it pleases in defiance of my weak attempts at an outline. It has become something far, far more complicated, darker, and far-reaching than "The True Enchanter," the romantic fairy tale giving way to a relationship more believable but more reckless, set against a backdrop of secrets and manipulation in a world caught in an invisible war. I don't know whether Lloyd would even recognize anything about my version of Llyr, but it feels as real to me now as Prydain itself, and will, I hope, be so for my readers.
A word on the rating: The tone of this fic, from a romantic standpoint, is far more "adult" than any of the original Chronicles and slightly more so than my other fic, since in my T/E romances I tend to dance well around the edges of intimate moments (made easier by the total lack of them in canon). This story, being foremost an account of an impulsive and turbulent romance, crosses those edges — but with restraint; I could not write erotica to save my life anyway, and would put this on a level with a PG-13 film: not at all explicit, but not material I would hand to a child.
I owe a debt to Evangeline Walton's wonderful Mabinogion Tetralogy, with its interesting take on the struggle of an ancient matriarchal culture conquered by a newer, belligerent, patriarchal one; the "old ways" of goddess-worship and female sexual agency subjugated and out-bred by institutional marriage and patrilineal inheritance. While I did not draw a direct comparison with the culture she describes, my version of Llyr, its central mythology, and its social mores are influenced by some of her philosophy - for better or worse. It is not this author's intention to set the island up as an Amazonian or feminist utopia; its rulers are as liable to error as any, and their decisions and motivations just as apt to be misguided.
One more bit of explanation: readers will note significant mention of moon phases. I am personally fascinated by the theory of lunar biorhythms - essentially, the idea that women in ancient/primitive cultures without the disrupting influence of electric or gas lighting would have had their menstrual cycles align, more or less, with the waxing and waning of the moon. In the absence of other factors, ambient moonlight is thought to influence estrogen production, with ovulation occurring around full moon and menstruation during new moon. The evidence for this theory is anecdotal, but it suited my purposes in drawing out the significance of the lunar symbolism of Llyr: its women, in tune with their cycles if any woman ever is, blame everything from high libido to manic energy to moody instability on specific moon phases, and they're not wrong.
This story deviates enough from Prydain canon that I am toying with the idea, when it's done, of changing names and small details enough to turn it into an original, publishable work - either literary or graphic. If that 50 Shades lady could do it with bad Twilight fic…the sky — or as the case may be – the sea is the limit. We'll see what happens.
Also, a word to fans of my other work: don't worry, I haven't stopped working on my Eilonwy-POV Black Cauldron! It's just on temporary hold while I finish this story, which is not letting me rest until I do.
As always my friends…
Happy Wandering