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Guri and the Swan



The huge bird whistled again his voice sounding hoarse and raw as he swam frantically back and forth in the lovely pond. The other pairs of them floated serenely in the water, linking necks or preening their already perfect feathers. A boy dressed in court livery watched alongside the pool, perhaps reading Guriwen’s sad face and shook his head, “Sad one that?” He said softly, his young voice full of sympathy.

“Yes, what is wrong with him?” Guri queried, “He seems lost or injured?” she wondered aloud, her healer’s sense unerring, clear even a vastly different type of patient. Watching the bird paddle in sweeps of the pool calling...to something. She notices as he swims near his feathers are disheveled, wing feathers broken, some hanging askew.

The young fellow watching over him sighed, “His mate was killed by some Corsair who raided the palace last night. I had to take her body away, the sight of it was too upsetting for him. For all of us to see. Bending down the swan ignores the boys try to feed him, dried corn, shaking his head and returning to his incessant cries.

Gazing up at Guriwen, who is stricken by the sight of this majestic bird, probably happy and obvious to the peril that was about to befall his world, just yesterday. Shivering, it is a feeling she knew all too well, and trying to drive the thought away, she asks, “Surely the Prince has others, a new mate perhaps?” Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she recalled the ladies in Snowbourn talking about how faithful swans are, that they mated for life and if one dies the other follows often because of a broken heart. Originally, she took those stories to be fanciful and fodder for some romantic proclivities the ladies, often without their Rohrrim for many months without end, likely had about their man’s faithfulness and their purity of heart. Watching the bird now Guriwen was certain that there was naught frivolous or fanciful about the swans of Snowbourn or here in Dol Amroth, the stories seemed true. Brushing away a stray tear she sits at the pools edge, and pulling out her harp, and she starts sing.

Music had always been a source of comfort to her and had gotten her through some times she would rather have forgotten. Singing brought her comfort, and the music her fingers skipping over the harp's strings, eased whatever pained her. There were times her father jokingly had teased her the harp was really a shield. True, she hid behind it many times, when something hurt too badly for words, the lyrics often told a story of what or how she was feeling. As she strummed, she wondered if she played to ease her own pain or for the swan’s? The giant bird did seem calmer to her and the boy seemed to agree, “Play more! I think he likes it!” A few half-hearted paddles brought him closer to the side of the pool, near to where she sat. He twisted an impossibly long neck, around to mouth his mangled wing feathers absently, a soft whistle, escaping his beak, it sounded plaintive, as he was asking “Why?”

“What will happen now?” She asked the boy, her voice soft and barely over the notes that floated into the huge hall.

“Well, we will put him outside in the pools there. The Master of the Gardens thinks it better to have a different place and the fresh air will be good for him.” Looking down the boy says “I suppose now it as good as time as any and bends to lift the calmer bird up but struggles to keep him still enough to carry him out of the palace and down to the ponds. While fully capable of freeing himself or beating a would-be attacker with his powerful wings, the swan lies as still as death, his long neck hanging own, dejected or bereft.

“May I?” Guriwen steps up holding her arms out, forgetting her now ruined dress, she gathers the bird and gasps under its weight. The swan, however, instead of being limp wraps his thin long neck around hers, lying still, but hanging on, another soft whistle, the musical notes bloom in her ear, a language she somehow knows. Instinctively she strokes the long neck, the feathers soft as velvet in her fingers. “You will be all right. Just a bit farther.’ Grasping the big bird tightly, she nods to the boy and follows him outside and down the steps.

Setting the swan into the pool, Guri stands back and watches him. Hoping somehow there is another swan there for him, but they all ignore him, and he returns to the pools edge, closest to her. Aghast she feels his pain, the loneliness adrift even in a sea of other swans.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she turns, the boy pulling at her hand, “We must leave him here, Master says,” the boy begs urging her away. Suddenly there is a great commotion, the sound of mighty splash as the swan leaps from the pool, his flight, hampered by the damage to his wings, he nonetheless flaps to her side, happy whistling and lumbers on legs meant only for swimming to her side. Throwing his head upright in the air he greets her.

Standing in the beauty of the garden, Guriwen looks down at the boy. “Run go get him, your Master,” she asks and looks at the swan, standing right in front of her, barring the way out. Reaching down, she pets the long neck, it winds along her arm. “Don’t worry you are coming with me,” she says, stealing herself and counting the gold coins she has in her purse. “Even if I have to ask Prince Imrahil himself.”

                                                            ************

The Garden Master was of little help or sympathy, and it was only with her firm insistence that he finally related to speak with the Swan Knights who watched over their namesakes in the city with something akin to rabid devotion. Beriadir watched Guriwen carefully as she told the swan’s sad tale, shaking his head at the cunning of the corsairs, the poisoning of a city mascot, and knelt stiffly in his bright blue armor to gaze into the ungainly bird’s eyes, perhaps measuring how truly bereft the swan was. Nodding in agreement he said, “I will give passage to the lady to take him, for surely a healer may do more than this simple Gardner,” his voice cutting in disdain for the man, so unwilling to help. Refusing Guri’s offered coins, he offered some hope as she turned to leave stepping carefully around the swan’s ungainly mass, “Swans do find mates again. Though it may take a season or so to heal his heartache.”

Thinking to herself, Guriwen wondered how else this swan would be like her? Heartsick, lonely, almost at odds for a reason to continue herself, she had been at odds to find a reason to go on of late. Walking slowly, she allowed the bird to follow on legs set back too far on his body, he swung his chest to and fro, to just keep up with her, even through town. Exhausted, the swan sat finally still in sight of the white walled city, the swan settling next to her, whistling softly before sleep. Without a fire Guri was happy for the mild weather and listened to the sound of the waves pounding the shore in the distance. Her promise to strangers to try to heal the sad bird to him a simple white swan, finally giving her some purpose, she realized how much her life he just been a series of trials and failure and resolved to do better, to see whatever this led to through to completion.

Guri was startled awake by the sound of someone clearing his throat and opened a blue eye to peek at the Swan Knight standing in his resplendent armor, a merchant and cart waited, behind him on the cobbled road. “It occurred to me you might be in the need of some help the knight said softly, “Your patient there cannot move well, he is too large for you to carry, and you will be hard pressed to fight off bandits or wolves along an inland route.”

The knight and driver waited for her patiently and she scurried to prepare, even while thinking it a boon she would not be able to repay. Smiling the driver watched the girl and the swan, chuckling despite himself. “That is a beautiful bird lass,” he said approvingly. “Though it may be some time before he can fly, but then he will beat us anywhere.”

“Yes, that is why I have asked a cutter patrolling north to sail you all closer to home. It will take too long by land and the bandits of the seas are beaten back for now. We have it on good word most of their ships are at the bottom of the bay of Belfas. Once around the cape it is a quick sail up the coast north to the Brandywine. Will that be all right? Looking down at Guriwen the Swan Knight, nodded and turned walking slowly back into the gate.

“My lord I have no way to pay you for this! I can send you some coins, but surely it is too costly for me to afford.” Guriwen couldn’t help but feel the rug was going to be pulled out from under her again. Her father’s voice in her head, said “If it sounds too good to be true it likely is lassie.” 

The older man spoke up as Guri held the swan up to him, the bird’s black feet paddling the air, a concerned whistle escaped his beak. Placing the bird behind the seat of his cart he patted the seat next to him and clucked to his horse, “I will pay for your passage, you see I need some doctoring myself, I suppose this knight figured you would have the time, being onboard a ship for a few days.” It was only then that Guriwen noticed the poultice wrapped around his leg from knee to ankle.

Nodding, and gazing between the old man and the swan, Guriwn could only nod happily and the swan sensing her happiness whistled, nibbling her fingers as if to say, ‘Let's go then.’

                                                           ************

The entire trip took five days, and the time onboard was uneventful. The older man, Nataniel, who Guriwen had imagined was a merchant, was a scholar and he taught her history and about various sea creatures during the long days while asea. Fighting the headwinds by heading north, the deck pitched and rolled underneath them, but after the second day. It became soothing and Guri slept better on the ship than she had in days. Once she discovered her sea legs she sat on the forecastle in the wind, letting the fresh tang of the air make her hair dance behind her, while the swan who she had officially named Cygnus, usually slept at her side. He seemed to handle the canting deck without issue, and even Nataniel’s leg had improved with rest, saltwater poultices, the angry redness of the skin subsiding with her care.

When near to shore, the white birds, terns and gulls as Nataniel called them, flew overhead cavorting on the wind, their plaintive cries filling the air. Cygnus watched them, titling his head to watch their antics in the skies. “You miss flying Cygnus?” she asked him, stroking his long neck. Pulling his wing out gently she saw the beginning of new feathers where some had been torn out, and smiled, “a few more months perhaps and you can join them.”

One of the deck hands laughed as he overheard her. “Which one is the better patient, miss? The old man or that big bird?”

Flashing a smile back she laughed “Why the swan of course, he was first! And much harder because he cannot talk back.”

There was nothing but a simple dock and ramp near the mouth of the huge river and looked battered but strong enough to withstand the winds of the west. While the crew used a block and tackle to finally heave the cart onto land, and Nataniel lead his horse down the steep ramp, Guriwen let Cygnus bathe in the brackish water where the sea and river merged. His bobbing and dipping drew an audience as the crew watched when he nibbled something at the bottom of the river, his black feet paddling wildly before he came up for air.

Nataniel and Guriwen waved as the ship set sail, the sails unfurling and as the wind filled them, pushing the ship toward the foggy horizon and back southward. Turning Nataniel said. “Maybe a few days more till we hit the Shire. Have you ever been to the Shire, Lass?”

“Aye, so much food, where do those hobbits put it all! I was there once for a festival, under the huge tree? “

“Oh aye, lots of pies and ale," Nataniel chuckled and his horse, Toby, a red draft of some stature, whickered at a few other horses grazing in the low pastureland that edged the narrow road. Toby’s quick trot ate up the ground as they headed north and east along the river.

Laughing, Nataniel nodded “Oh the Hobbits are a good lot! Are you wanting to come that way or head back to Bree? I take it you have family there?” 

Shaking her head Guri replies “Not really, my little sister is grown, and she is out soldiering somewhere. But I will go back to Bree. I have a small house near there with water nearby for Cygnus.” Patting the swan as he slept behind her, she tried to put the returning to Bree from her mind, she had never really wanted to go back. So many bad memories.

They made camp for the night, Nataniel no longer hobbling on his leg, and had a stew of coney and wild spinach. Guri took the pot and dishes to the river to rinse them off and let Cygnus swim again this time, he flapped his wing, whistled happily as if to say, “Hey look I can almost fly!” He preened for a long awhile and Guriwen sat on the bank thinking back....

She couldn’t help but to blame herself, her endless need to help those who were struggling was most often a shortsighted-plan long term. Her father would gently say “Oh darling girl let me take this, all things die. It is the way of things, lass.” For a few nights she would be sad, but time, eventually eased all heartache. Her mother's take was harsher, yet correct and Guriwen knew to steel herself were her mother to weigh in. ‘I am stupid and guillible yes Mother, I know.’ Sniffling in a moment of self-loathing Guriwen how many other women, had his words and actions harmed. Resting her head on her knees and she watched Cygnus glide in the water.

Why did I believe him? she chastised herself, and sighing wondered why she left him get to her. Helping people can make you the have the problem in the end, she heard her Mother say in her mind. She always felt a bit of her, her was slipping away, when she listened, yet pulled in to try to help.

She was lost in her thoughts when Cygnus came and settled next to her, his orange beak nibbled at her ear, his voice soft almost plaintive. “I refuse to let this destroy me Cygnus, I will make new friends, ones who like me and do not use me. Someday I will find someone to love too, you give me that hope. We can both get through this” Stroking the swan’s silky long neck, she stood and shoved any memory of him out of her mind. Standing up she brushed herself off and walked back to camp and returned to the welcome glow of the fire.

“Ah there you are I was beginning to think I might need to go looking for you.” Nataniel gazed at her a long moment. “You all right lass?” Grinning she answered, conviction in her voice, the icy tentacles that had held her breathless and frozen, melting in her resolve. “Aye Nataniel. I’m going to be!”