A bit of me....

When I'm considering a story I write a bit of poetry to go with it. It has its uses in getting the creative juices flowing, but then, like finding a really good wine, I find myself content to sit awhile on the poetry itself--in turn, the story, although not forgotten, is never really completed. Sad? Well, yes and no. There are times where I am happily content with the poems that represent one of my ideas, but, on the other hand, there are times where I am agitated by the stories themeselves being incomplete. And, in either circumstance, I daydream of my cast of characters--heroes and villains alike. What would they say here or there, I ask myself.

--What do they say, you ask? Uhhh, well, you see... I haven't written any of it down. No dialogue has found its way into a document because naughty me! it's all, still, within my head. Now wait! Before you--and I know a few of you reading this, so the fear is real--castigate me for my neglect, I offer the aforementioned poems in recompense. They belong to a story that I've been toying with for several years over the idea of fey in the mortal world (and sidenote, I swear I've been holding on to this concept long before the fad erupted into being). The story outline goes a bit like this:

Once upon a time, there were two courts of faerie that had been feuding for a very, very long time. And, as most feuds are want to begin, the conflict had started over a lovers' spat between two high ranking sidhe. On the one hand, there was Aednat, a princess of a seelie court, and although she was raised amongst the ideals of light and, supposed, goodness, she possessed a hard heart. Spoiled, as princesses often are, she could not face being told no. On the other hand, there was Drystan, a king of an unseelie court, and although he was a leader of a people often looked down upon as being dark and, allegedly, evil, he ruled with a balanced heart and only ever did what was best for his people. Loved by his subjects, he had no need for a queen.... Aednat disagreed.

Enraged by his refusal to love her, Aednat cast a terrible curse upon him--his sidhe beauty was masked in the form of a goblin. Terrible to behold, Drystan became that of a thing of nightmares, but what Aednat could not have known was how truly his people loved him. Each donned the cursed masks as well, sidhe to the most lowly of fey, and they joined Drystan into his exhile.

Yet, Aednat was not content to leave him to his changed state: the curse would free Drystan, and his people, only during the darkest months of winter. For a few months, they would be free to walk as they truly are, and thus, she would come to him each time and demand he make her his queen in exchange for the freedom from the curse. Each time, Drystan would refuse.

Time passed, as it want to do, and the landscape of the world changed. The darkest months of winter were no longer bleak landscapes, but instead, lit with light. Drystan and his court embraced the mortal world during their times of freedom as winter was no longer a time for closed doors and ravaging sickness... and it is this type of freedom which led to a certain prophesy where a mortal holds the key to breaking the curse....

          In frost and bitter wind                                                Crippled and torn -- prince I am not --

          I am free but for a time.                                               Yet, gilded in name and blood.

          My mask torn-- discarded --                                        Memory: the dagger which strikes true

          Too soon to take it up again.                                        Opens again the wounds --

          But soft, she calls to me --                                           Courtly bow --

          So sweet, but is she the key?                                        I cringe -- lost in eyes of loathing.

          I have a glimpse of hope --

          So, follow me child

          Down the wayward path.

          A promise is given --

          But will you hold true?