A "what if" that entered my head: what if the three witches visited more than one person that final night in The High King? Take it as you will. I don't know if it would have happened or not. But it was fun to speculate and sketch it out. I haven't read the books in in a while, but if I remember correctly, Dallben and Gwydion hinted at the end of The High King that they believed Taran would choose the Summer Country the day before they actually left. But I don't recall that they mentioned anything about what they thought the night before they left. ^_~

Spoiler Warning for The High King and the entire series.

Disclaimers: Credit for Taran's height goes to CompanionWarrior, who mentioned his height in one of her recent chapters of Hundreds of Words. She also gets all the credit for the idea of Lord Gwydion once being betrothed to Eilonwy's mother. I hinted at it in this story but it was not certainly my idea! She's always so very kind to let me borrow elements of her stories, so I most sincerely hope she won't mind this time. Go read her stuff if you haven't. She is amazing.

~BD

Farewell Visit

In the fields around Caer Dallbean, the glowing embers of campfires crackled in the night. Occasionally, a fire would flare as someone on watch added another log, for it was only just spring and still quite chilly out. But mostly the remaining army was asleep, with only night watchers on guard.

Despite the chill or the late hour, two men walked side by side on the edge of the fields, next to the fringe of forest. One, bent with great age, leaned upon his staff and walked slowly…the other, his hair more liberally sprinkled with gray than ever before, due to the events of late, paced himself to match the enchanter's steps. They walked for some time without speaking, until Dallben felt that they were far enough away from the camps and the cottage to discuss matters. And even then, he kept his voice quiet, as though concerned he would still be overheard.

"...And so, all known parts of Hen Wen's prophecy came to fruition, then."

Gwydion glanced back at the red glowing dots throughout the field before he murmured, "And parts of another prophecy, as well. But I suspect you know that."

"I heard rumors."

Gwydion took a deep breath, turned back to Dallben, and sighed. "He drew the blade without harming himself."

"I guessed as much, seeing as he was wearing it when he rode up to the cottage, when you have been carrying it these few years past."

"Wearing it only to keep it safe for him, you mean. He first destroyed the Cauldron Born with it. That was the reason Arawn had taken it in the first place – because it had the ability to kill all of the Cauldron Born in one swoop."

"At least they may sleep peacefully again. That is something."

"Then, within Annuvin, Arawn attempted to trick him out of Dyrnwyn by pretending to be me. It did not work." Gwydion paused. "I cannot say as much, Dallben. For you well know that Arawn tricked me in the exact same fashion, and I fell for it."

"You mustn't blame yourself too harshly for that." Dallben sighed and leaned upon his staff, and turned his gaze back across the field towards the small, white cottage, far away in the darkness. "I suspect, however, that Arawn was most displeased when he wasn't able to trick the boy."

"I would hardly call him a boy any longer. He is a man, and taller than I. But yes, Arawn was most displeased. He retreated and then returned as a snake – a form I doubt he would have taken had he known the prophecy in the Book of Three." There was a hint of a smile in Gwydion's words.

Dallben, however, did not smile. "There is more to that prophecy than just slaying a serpent, as you well know."

"Too true, my old friend. Too true." Gwydion's voice turned heavy. "We can do nothing now. We shall simply have to wait and see what happens in the 'morn."

The snap of a twig and the gentle cluck of a tongue made both men turn, though the sight was one that they were not expecting. Just within the line of trees, a glittering light shone brightly, white and gold and trimmed in red, and when the two men moved into the forest to investigate further, they discovered three women standing in a small glen of trees, out of sight from the camps. The first wore a necklace of glowing beads, the third's face was obscured behind a flowing hood and cape, and the middle held what appeared to be a large, folded fabric in her arms. They were stunningly beautiful, with long flowing hair and perfect features, eyes shrewd and knowing.

"Sleepless and wandering about before they are due to depart?" The second touched the beads at her throat and smiled. "Goodness, that won't do."

"Even goslings need their sleep," the middle admonished gently.

The hooded one murmured, "I don't think they are the right ones. He's too old, Orddu."

"Tosh. Of course it's little Dallben! Don't you remember? The curse of the Book of Three was age, Orgoch." The middle turned to smile at the two men. "Lord Gwydion is always saying with age comes wisdom, but in darling Dallben's case, it was quite the other way around, wasn't it? With wisdom came age. I do hope you aren't angry with us, Dallben. You did choose the Book of Three, and as you well know, nothing is ever given."

"He was far more agreeable as a child," Orgoch muttered. "He looks grouchy at present."

Dallben inhaled and straightened slightly. He frowned, though perhaps not in anger, and said, "Why, may I ask, have you come? I am in need of nothing, and do not desire to bargain. Are you here for Lord Gwydion, then?"

"No, we are here to say goodbye," Orwen said sweetly. "As magical beings, we must leave this place too, you know."

"And that is the only reason you've come?" Dallben sounded disbelieving.

"Well..."

"Hush, Orgoch." Orddu frowned at the tallest, and then said seriously, "No, it is not the only reason. This," she held up the folded fabric just enough that their eyes were drawn to it, "must be given to its rightful owner before we leave. That is why we've come."

"Give?" Gwydion's brows knit together. "But as you say, nothing is ever given..."

Orddu smiled sadly. "In truth, it is only partially ours. We do not own it outright. Very likely the only object we have that we do not own in its entirety. And so, it must be given to the one who wove it."

"Someone here wove it?" Gwydion asked, surprise lacing his voice.

"Of course. It is a beautiful tapestry. I do wish I could show you, but that is impossible. It is not ours to show, as we do not own it in entirety."

Gwydion looked pensive. "I know of no one in these parts who could weave such a tapestry – not even the Princess Eilonwy."

Orwen laughed cheerfully. "Oh, but Gwydion is a darling duckling, isn't he?" She smiled girlishly at him. "Of course the person who wove it didn't weave it! We wove the threads – well, the physical ones, in any case. Or are they all physical threads?" She looked at Orddu with a thoughtful expression. "It is quite confusing, isn't it?"

"I think it best to say we wove it together, the four of us," Orddu decided.

Orgoch muttered, "Beastly task too, if you ask me."

"No one did, dear. Do be quiet. Although the fourth didn't really know he was weaving it, did he? He simply made the choices, and we wove them into the tapestry. That's the best way to say it, I believe."

Dallben frowned severely. "So then. The real reason you are here is to interfere with the Book of Three."

Orddu clucked again. "One can hardly interfere when one wrote it, dearest Dallben!"

"And after all, the tapestry does belong to him." Orwen tilted her head. "What he chooses to do with it next is his own decision. As it always was."

"And in any case," Orgoch scoffed, "we can do as we wish."

"It is still interference," Dallben replied dryly.

"We certainly won't be telling him what to do," Orddu admonished. "We will only give him what is rightfully his."

"He has no idea this even exists," Dallben argued. "What do you expect will happen? That he will put it aside and journey to the Summer Country anyways?"

Orgach's head moved slightly beneath the hood. "But he does know this tapestry exists. He saw us weaving it once."

Dallben made an impatient noise. "He was far too inexperienced to know what it was then! I would be astounded if he recognized it for what it was."

Orddu cut the argument short, before Orgach could reply. "The choice will still be his. He may decide to join you in journeying to the Summer Country. He may decide to remain with the Princess Eilonwy, and forsake this sorrowful land. Or he may decide to remain here and help rebuild what was destroyed. But regardless of this tapestry, the choice will be his."

"You would make him decide between moral obligation and the woman he loves," Gwydion murmured sadly.

"Oh, but the princess must make her own decisions, too. Everyone must make their own decisions."

"But," Orwen said cheerfully, "The princess does possess one object that Lord Gwydion gave her years ago, which could help her now. Oh, I remember when we bargained it to you! I wondered if you would give it to a girl you loved, and it seemed so romantic an idea, but that did not quite go as planned, did it?"

Gwydion stiffened. "You needn't remind me."

Orddu smiled. "I think the Princess Eilonwy will make better use of it than her mother could have done. But you mustn't tell her of it unless she desires to remain here with Taran," she added, frowning at Gwydion. "And only if Taran decides to remain."

"That is a double standard," Dallben muttered. "It is acceptable for you to interfere, but not for us to do so."

Orddu laughed. "You know we are only interested in things the way they are, duckling. And we are interested in the way Taran is, because he does have such good moral value. But it will still be his decision, even with our interference. And Eilonwy must also decide her own fate."

"So," Orwen beamed. "If we decide to visit the Summer Country, we hope to see you then?"

"Goodbye, goslings!" Orddu hugged the tapestry and smiled.

Orgach said nothing, and then, in a wink, they had vanished.

The silence seemed more oppressive than before, and the night seemed so much darker without their dazzling brightness. After a long moment, Gwydion murmured, "Belin. I do not know what to think. Did they wish to give us hope about the prophecy? Or to taunt us?"

Dallben sighed. "I do not understand all of their ways. He will have to chose now – a Kingdom of Sorrow, or a Kingdom of Happiness."

"So, too, must the Princess Eilonwy."

"I do not know if the tapestry will make a difference in his decision or not." Dallben's brow furrowed deeply.

"Perhaps there is yet hope," Gwydion replied, placing a hand on the enchanter's shoulder. "He is a man who knows duty and honor. But the truth is, we will not know for certain until tomorrow, for his decision today was to accompany us."

"Perhaps the best thing to do," Dallben said quietly, "is to return and get some rest. As they said; even we need sleep. There is nothing we can do at present. We will have to wait."

"Too true, my old friend. Too true."

And together, the two men started back for the cottage, lapsing into silence, each with heavy thoughts upon their minds.

FIN~