Belenos
The earth beneath her feet seems to almost hum with joyous new life. There is little of winter's chill left in the depths of the forest. New growth abounds, and bright buds array the branches of trees and shrubs alike. Tiny blue flowers adorn the forest floor, nodding their heads in the light breeze that somehow manages to find its way among the trees. Yavanna's eyes soften in something close to a smile as she passes by, finding the sight lifts her heart a little but not understanding why.
Her pleasure is short-lived, however, as her stomach twinges and grumbles noisily. She has yet to find any homes or farms and has found but a few windfall apples, shriveled and hard after the winter, to ease her hunger. "Well, you won't find any food standing here gawking at pretty flowers, my girl," she admonishes herself under her breath and again resumes her journey.
As she walks beneath the leafy canopy, her eyes scour the ground ahead for signs of either fallen fruit or civilization, but her mind casts back again to the dream of the night before. She had dreamed of a lover, tall and well-muscled, dark of skin, with long dark wavy hair, although his face, whenever she tried to look upon it directly always seemed just a blur. They had played lovers' games through the forest, with her pretending to flee, her laughter floating behind her in the wake of her long fair hair, and he pursuing her, although careful not to catch her too soon.
His arms had wrapped around her, hard and strong, easily lifting her off her feet, although she herself is tall and well built for a woman. He had scooped her into his arms and laid her gently among the ferns as his full, firm lips claimed hers. Walking now, her cheeks flushed at the memory of what happened next. Was it a dream or a memory? Was he a true lover or a wisp of imagination thrown up by her lonely mind?
She recalls a sense of urgency, as though their time together was short or limited. He had held her in his arms and whispered to her in a deep melodious voice, "But for now I am here, wife. I am here." Wife he had called her. Wrinkling her brow as she walked. she puzzled over this. His voice in her ear had seemed so real, as though she lay in his arms as she slept and he whispered into her dreams.
Who was he? If he was real, where was he? How was it that they could share such love yet she wandered now alone? She looks down at the beautiful designs on her skin. Did he do them as she had dreamed? If not he, then who? How did she come to have such marks upon her? Sighing, the questions chased each other around in her mind like leaves in a summer whirlwind. Despite the discomfort of her bed of leaves on the forest floor with only her thin cloak for cover, she had finally fallen deeply asleep, her lips curled in a small smile at being held by such a lover.
It was his call that woke her. Her name, he had called her name. She knew it was her name for it pulled at her, although she could not hear it clearly. Yohanna? Ivana? It had sounded something like those, but what had struck her most was the urgency of that call. It had brought her wide awake, bolt upright where she lay. "I am here!" he had called. Not in the soft reassuring tones of her dream, but with an urgency and edge of panic to his voice, yet when she gazed around the forest, no one was there. She had been quite alone.
"I am here too," she whispers softly in answer now as she walks and pauses to look about her, "Wherever here is, I am here." Unbidden, tears spring to her eyes as a wave of utter desolation sweeps over her. Impatiently she dashes them from her cheeks, "That will teach you to eat last season's apples for supper. No wonder you had strange dreams, and you'll dream no better tonight unless you find something decent to eat soon!" Determinedly she strides out down the path. It must lead somewhere surely, for it is a path. She was not just wandering aimlessly. It had to lead somewhere! But where it led was deeper and deeper into the wild forests.
Her pleasure is short-lived, however, as her stomach twinges and grumbles noisily. She has yet to find any homes or farms and has found but a few windfall apples, shriveled and hard after the winter, to ease her hunger. "Well, you won't find any food standing here gawking at pretty flowers, my girl," she admonishes herself under her breath and again resumes her journey.
As she walks beneath the leafy canopy, her eyes scour the ground ahead for signs of either fallen fruit or civilization, but her mind casts back again to the dream of the night before. She had dreamed of a lover, tall and well-muscled, dark of skin, with long dark wavy hair, although his face, whenever she tried to look upon it directly always seemed just a blur. They had played lovers' games through the forest, with her pretending to flee, her laughter floating behind her in the wake of her long fair hair, and he pursuing her, although careful not to catch her too soon.
His arms had wrapped around her, hard and strong, easily lifting her off her feet, although she herself is tall and well built for a woman. He had scooped her into his arms and laid her gently among the ferns as his full, firm lips claimed hers. Walking now, her cheeks flushed at the memory of what happened next. Was it a dream or a memory? Was he a true lover or a wisp of imagination thrown up by her lonely mind?
She recalls a sense of urgency, as though their time together was short or limited. He had held her in his arms and whispered to her in a deep melodious voice, "But for now I am here, wife. I am here." Wife he had called her. Wrinkling her brow as she walked. she puzzled over this. His voice in her ear had seemed so real, as though she lay in his arms as she slept and he whispered into her dreams.
Who was he? If he was real, where was he? How was it that they could share such love yet she wandered now alone? She looks down at the beautiful designs on her skin. Did he do them as she had dreamed? If not he, then who? How did she come to have such marks upon her? Sighing, the questions chased each other around in her mind like leaves in a summer whirlwind. Despite the discomfort of her bed of leaves on the forest floor with only her thin cloak for cover, she had finally fallen deeply asleep, her lips curled in a small smile at being held by such a lover.
It was his call that woke her. Her name, he had called her name. She knew it was her name for it pulled at her, although she could not hear it clearly. Yohanna? Ivana? It had sounded something like those, but what had struck her most was the urgency of that call. It had brought her wide awake, bolt upright where she lay. "I am here!" he had called. Not in the soft reassuring tones of her dream, but with an urgency and edge of panic to his voice, yet when she gazed around the forest, no one was there. She had been quite alone.
"I am here too," she whispers softly in answer now as she walks and pauses to look about her, "Wherever here is, I am here." Unbidden, tears spring to her eyes as a wave of utter desolation sweeps over her. Impatiently she dashes them from her cheeks, "That will teach you to eat last season's apples for supper. No wonder you had strange dreams, and you'll dream no better tonight unless you find something decent to eat soon!" Determinedly she strides out down the path. It must lead somewhere surely, for it is a path. She was not just wandering aimlessly. It had to lead somewhere! But where it led was deeper and deeper into the wild forests.