AN: Welcome to my first attempt to write something in the fairy tale relm. I know that strictly speaking this isn't a spin off on a known fairy tale, but it does follow the idea that these tales start from something real...
I hope you enjoy it. Any comments and feedback, good or bad are cherished!
The young man with light brown hair and sharp eyes stepped out of the forest. It was nearing sunset as he finally left the trees and entered into a small meadow. Spring was just reaching the area. The grass was mostly matted and brown, yet there were small green sprigs visible if one looked closely. A cool breeze lifted his long hair off his back as he noticed a small hut at the edge of the clearing, near what appeared to be the seldom traveled path that he had lost several hours previously. He cocked his head to the side and wondered if anyone lived there. It was an isolated place for someone to live. He resettled his traveling sack before heading towards the setting sun.
The meadow's center was marshy, so he skirted it as he quickly headed towards the house. He would not be able to make it all the way into town before dark, and he had no desire to spend another night in the forest. If no one lived in the home, he'd be able to sleep there, and if someone did, perhaps he could tell a few stories for entertainment in exchange for room and board for the night.
As he neared the structure, he heard a loud bleating. He followed the sound to the other side and stopped short as he found a healthy black sheep standing near an open window. He paused, startled as if he'd seen an apparition. Black animals of any kind were considered bad omens. The fact that this one hadn't been killed as a lamb was surprising. What was even more so, was that it appeared to be well taken care of. A moment later, his eyes caught sight of movement within the house. Obviously the place was occupied. Glancing wearily at the sheep, he cleared his throat before shouting a greeting.
Several moments later a young woman with long, thick black hair and eyes to match stood in the open doorway. She eyed the man for a moment before asking, "can I help ye?"
His eyes lingered on her appearance as he took stock of her simple, sable clothes, tiny waist and bare feet. "May I speak with the master of the abode?" He asked, a charming smile breaking across his mouth.
The woman nodded imperceptibly before saying "what's your business here, sir?"
"That's for the master of the house to know," he replied tiredly. He was not in the mood to deal with an obviously eccentric and self important housewife.
"I don't expect you'll get much out of her when you don't tell her," she replied sharply.
It took a minute for him to register what she said. "You live alone, milady?"
A self satisfied smile flickered across her face, showing pearly, even teeth. "Quite," she replied before turning her attention to the black sheep that was accosting her hand. She ran her small hands through its wool as she continued to look at the man, obviously waiting for an answer.
After pausing a moment, he spoke again. "Forgive me milady, my name is Caley. I am traveling to Snowcrest. I lost the path through the woods and I am afraid I will not make it there tonight."
The woman nodded. "True enough. No one uses the old road now."
Caley grinned. "So I see, but this was the only road I knew." There was a pause that was filled only by the rustling of the wind in the trees behind them. "May I ask your name, milady?"
"My name is Moriah Mercedes of Snowcrest, but most know me a Moria."
Caley smiled widely at her openness. It was rare to find a woman who was forward enough to speak more than a few sentences, yet Moria did that and looked him directly in the eye, almost as if challenging him to say something. "It is a pleasure, Moria. May I ask why you are here alone?"
Moria bristled slightly before narrowing her eyes. "What do you know of this land?"
Caley smirked. "I have traveled much here, I am aware of most customs."
"You know of oracles?"
"You are too young to be one."
"Not as young as you think," she countered.
"But not so old as to have learned to old ways to completion."
Moria nodded in acknowledgement. "You are right, I do not know all the old ways, but I do know the ways of people, and this helps me to guide them."
He nodded his understanding and looked at the setting sun. "Then Madame Oracle, would you grant this humble supplicant shelter for the night?" He bowed low in a manner used when he was called before royalty. He raised his eyes slightly, searching her face for favor.
Moria kneeled in the dirt next to the ewe that still stood by her. "What do you think, Aisly? Shall we let him stay with us?" The ewe bleated softly before turning to Caley and nudging his hand with her nose.
The motion surprised the worldly traveler, for it seemed the ewe understood her mistress. "How?" he whispered softly as he absently patted her black head.
Moria smiled, "I know someone is of good heart when Aisly welcomes them. When she doesn't, I've found it best to avoid them. I think she can smell fear and anxiety, two traits that show lack of heart."
Caley stood studying Moria for several long moments. "Perhaps they are right to have you as an oracle," he finally said.
She laughed bitterly. " It wasn't my wisdom, sir Bard, that earned me my post. It was their fear of what would happen if I stayed."
"How did you know I was a bard?"
"You carry lute in your pocket and a bag that is too light to be all clothes and too fat to be empty, I'm guessing that is your paper and quills. Your hands are also stained with ink. You could be a scholar I suppose, but they rarely travel."
Caley grinned broadly. "That was a magnificent deduction!"
Moria looked to the ground, seemingly embarrassed by his complement. Her eyes wandered across the meadow and she realized it was quickly becoming dark. "Perhaps you should come inside, I'm simply fetching some wood for a fire, and then we'll see what I can do for an evening meal." She motioned him inside before she strode to a pile of dead tree limbs that had be stacked away from the house. Moments later she reappeared with an armload and began to coax a fire to life.
Caley anxiously asked if he could help. He was fascinated by this unusual woman, and wanted to gain her favor. Perhaps she would allow him to stay another day before he had to face the condescension of court in the growing town below them.
When dinner was finished, Caley reached into his breeches and brought out his lute. "What kind of story does milady wish to hear?"
Instead of answering his question, Moria posed one of her own. "Don't you think the night lends itself to silence rather than merriment? I think the darkness scares people and so they make merry to frighten it away."
"I had never thought of that, though to be honest silence is not something that often surrounds me."
"No, I don't imagine so."
Caley listened to the silence that enveloped the room. At first it was uncomfortable, like standing naked on a winter day. Slowly, as he began to analyze the quality that the silence held, he no longer felt uncomfortable. His thoughts began to blur and merge as they found tangents he'd never followed to places he'd never seen. Quickly, he got up and grabbed his pack from where it laid by the door. He motioned to the table in question. Moria simply nodded before he began to spread his ink, quills and paper out. Life and death flew from his fingers in an epic struggle between man and beast, gods and mortals, and even the earth itself. He strove to write quietly, lest the inspiring silence be broken.
After filling several sheaves, he looked up to see Moria asleep in her chair, her bare feet tucked underneath her skirt, and her long hair flowing down her back. The firelight cast a reddish tint to her hair, making it look like it was bursting into dark flames. The picture before him created a story in his mind. One mixed with the lore of old and the reality of the new. There once lived a woman, no a Goddess, that loved life and people and learning. For her love, she paid a high debt though. She met a man and fell in love. She taught him the knowledge of the Gods and the ways of people. The knowledge was too much for the young man, and it finally drove him mad. The Goddess fled from the place where her beloved killed himself, vowing never to interfere again. However the Gods did not accept the life that the young man had taken. The Goddess pleaded with the Gods, and the Sun, Moon and Stars to have mercy on him and her for what had happened. As punishment, the Gods condemned her to watch the death of those who are killed, mourning them in the stead of her beloved.
Thereafter, and eerie wailing could be heard throughout the land whenever someone was killed. However, her understanding of what drives someone to kill, either themselves or others, causes to her to extend mercy on them and protect them from justice. So it is that the beautiful mourner known as Moria came into existence.
The following morning, Moria woke at dawn. She had a crick in her neck from sitting in a chair all night. Someone had covered her with the black wool blanket on her bed. The recollection of her visitor caused her to sit upright and look around. Her home was a silent as always. The only sign that there had been someone else there was a paper, written in an elegant hand. She sat and read the story twice, before turning it over. On the back, Caley had written, We shall meet again, Goddess of silence.
She laughed, rolled up the scroll and set it on her bed. It was a treasure that she would always keep.