Rebekah and the Powys Prince
by Kate Everson
Smashwords edition
Copyright 2011 Kate Everson
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On a hill in Wales, Rebekah met her prince.
He was tall, very tall. So tall that when she looked up at him, she could see clouds dancing around his head.
“I like,” she smiled. “I like very, very much.”
And she sat down at his feet and felt very small indeed.
But then he reached down to her, extending his hand out of his black cloak and finding her tiny white hand and bringing her up to him. She rose, hesitantly from the long grass, unsteady on her feet because of him, and took comfort in the strength of his mighty arms.
When she stood beside him, she was only up to his chest. She dared not look into his face, but had to. She wanted to see his deep, deep eyes and find out what colour they were.
“Rebekah,” he smiled down at her. “I have come for you.”
And she was overwhelmed. She had never imagined that she would find him here at the top of Castell Dinas Bran after so many centuries. But he was here. And his eyes were browner than she could possible fathom. In fact, they were more of a blackish-brown because it was like looking into a cave where no man had ever lived. Yet deep inside, there was a fire burning.
“I… ” she tried to say, stammering, not sure what words could ever say what her pounding heart felt. She had dreamed of this day. Ever since she had climbed this ancient ruin and felt the tremors of past lives shake her whole being, she had known that some day she would find him. And the reunion would be magnificent.
“I am not afraid,” she kept telling herself, staring up at this creature, this splendid prince, whose name she could not even pronounce.
“I am Llewelyn,” he told her, again and again.
But her words never came out right, and she hung her head. How could he ever like her when he was so grand?
“Don’t be afraid, my little one,” he smiled. “I am larger than life now, but there was a time when we were equal. And you were my princess.”
She gasped. So it was true! Her dreams, her visions of those times were not all her imagination. She had been with him, so close, so intimate. She blushed to recall how close they had been. And now she could barely look into his eyes.
Llewelyn sensed her discomfort and did not push her boundaries. He had patience and all the time in the world. For them, there was no time. It stood still. At this moment on the top of the hill where their castle had once stood proudly over Powys in North Wales, they were timeless.
He longed to show her. But could he break down her barriers and push through her fears? She was so mortal.
“Rebekah… ” he whispered. “Rebekah…”
And when she closed her eyes it was like they were back in the castle. And the year was 1111.
“Llewelyn?” she answered. And this time she said his name correctly. She knew it so well.
He lifted her up in his arms and his black cloak sheltered her from the wind on the top of that hill. She felt his strength like an anchor to her soul, and she no longer feared him. She was his.
That day and all that night, Rebekah and Llewelyn sat cradled in the side of their ancient castle, rocking each other, and remembering the magic, like it was today and not yesterday. When the stars came out, they stopped talking and just stared. The black sky held their secrets tight. When dawn came, the two just breathed in the sunshine and felt its warmth. They were part of the earth and sky, and this moment had no end.
But as the sun rose higher in the sky, Rebekah knew that people would be coming up the hill, and they could no longer be together. And sure enough, when the first laughter of children ascending the grassy slopes rang through the chill Welsh air, Rebekah turned and he was gone.
She sighed and went down the hill to the town below, her heart still pounding to his heartbeat.
“I like… ” she smiled, and added, “I like very, very much.”
And she wondered if she would ever see him again.
She felt lost, like she wasn’t really in her body any more. In fact, she felt like she was going out of her mind. Every day Rebekah would climb the hill to Castell Dinas Bran and wander through the ruins of the castle.
“I can’t live like this,” she said. “I have to forget about him. He’s gone. If ever he did exist…”
And after days of wandering around the town of Llangollen, she went home to Canada and back to her normal routine. She had friends, family, and life went on. But one night, when the full moon was shining in Rebekah’s window she awoke and went and stood outside. She felt its rays penetrating her thin nightgown, almost undressing her with its silvery power. She knew what that meant. It was him. The prince, her prince, was here.
She did not see him right away, but stood bathing in the moonlight, soaking up its rays to give her strength. And then suddenly, he was right in front of her, his eyes looking directly into hers.
“Llewelyn,” she said perfectly, breathing every syllable as she had done every day since that night on Dinas Bran.
“Rebekah,” he smiled. “I have come for you.”
Rebekah did not know what to say. Come for her? But he was from another dimension. How could he take her?
He stared into her eyes, and she could see forever. Then she knew. It would happen. And it would happen in seconds.
She relaxed and surrendered herself totally to him. And when she did, immediately she felt light as a feather, and was being drawn up into the moonlight, with him holding tight to her hand.
She was not afraid. In fact, it was like she had done this so many times before and this was just once more. All she could feel was a smile, and a tinkle of laughter as the earth grew small beneath her and they soared up, up into the moonlight. It was like the moon had a silvery beam just for them to ride upon. He held her tightly, and that’s all she knew.
The moon carried them high above the earth to a place that only lovers dream of. It was a land bathed in silver. A river flowed through it, and the waves danced silvery tunes. A garden of bright flowers nodded to them as they passed by. An old man stood by a curved stone bridge, fishing, but he glanced up at them and nodded wisely. Then he became an owl and flew over their head, his huge wings beating with their hearts.
Finally, they landed on a stone beside a stream and Llewelyn put her feet in the water and washed them with his hands. They felt cool and strangely warm at the same time. It was like mercury how the silver would run off her feet.
Somewhere high above them a raven called. Dinas Bran was the hill of the raven, where they had met. It was all connected.
“Can I call you my love?” she asked Llewelyn, but he shook his head.
“No, my dearest,” he said. “I am not your love, but only a reflection of the sky and the deep blue of your eyes and the brightest flower in the meadow. I am not your love, because I want you to see everything in me and find me everywhere.”
Rebekah did not understand. This was her one true love. What was he saying?
“I love you,” she whispered. “That’s all I know.”
But he took her hand again and they descended into a cave where there was no light and he wrapped her tightly in his strong black cloak and held her there. She did not know what to say.
“What do you see?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” she replied, feeling a little scared.
“And that is what I am,” Llewelyn said. “I am nothing at all. Do not love me, for I can vanish in an instant. Love the world and all that is in it. And I will be there too.”
She understood. He was offering her the highest, deepest love imaginable. It was the greatest gift of all. The universal, divine, selfless kind of love that never dies. It was a gift from the gods.
She closed her eyes and breathed in his smell for the last time. She touched his skin for the last time. And she kissed his face, just one more time. And then he was gone forever.
But was it over?
“Not on your life!” he called from the bridge one sunny afternoon many years later. And there he was, her Powys Prince, now in a different form. He was older now, and the years had made him more mature, distinguished.
He rushed over to her and took her in his strong arms.
“Where have you been?” she cried. “My heart has been aching for you.”
For Rebekah had lived alone, never married, never took another love. Who could ever compare to him? She had surrendered herself to life, keeping herself busy, working and helping others in the community. She had even saved helpless animals and brought them to new homes. Her heart was big, but it was still very empty. Until now.
“I have been many places,” he smiled. “But now I am home. My real home is with you.”
There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but they could wait. They walked together down the sunlit path to her small cottage, and she could feel his heart beating just as powerfully as ever. Time had not diminished their passion.
Inside, he built a small fire in the fireplace and they curled up together on the bear rug. It was a perfect reunion. If only it would last forever.
But that night as they lay down to sleep, they heard a howling in the woods. The wolves had formed a strong pack and were out for blood.
“Oh, protect me, Llewelyn,” she whimpered.
And he pulled her ever closer. They snuggled together under the warm quilts and tried not to hear the howling just at their back door. Llewelyn was not used to this part of the world where forest creatures were wild and roaming in the wilderness. But he was brave and strong, and he knew he would do everything to protect his love.
He kept his eyes open all night, and when morning came, he got up and made the fire. Then he crawled back under the covers and kissed her again and again. There seemed no end to their love.
Just then a loud knocking was heard at the door. Startled, Rebekah jumped up and threw on a robe. She opened the latch and peered out at the stranger.
“Have you seen my daughter?” asked an anguished elderly man. “She has been missing all night. Have you seen her?”
Rebekah said no, she had not, and invited the poor man in to get warm by the fire. She made some hot coffee and poured him a cup. He sat at the table, his head in his hands and sobbed gently.
By then, Llewelyn had gotten up and joined them at the table.
“Can I help?” he asked.
The old man looked up and nodded. “Help me look for her,” he said.
So together, they all went out in the woods, to try and find his daughter. She was only 11 and had gone to bed as usual, but this morning her bed was empty. The old man was beside himself with worry. He too had heard the howling in the night, and hoped that his daughter was not out there with the wolves.
They walked beside the river, that was flowing quickly now this time of year and looked for footprints in the soft mud.
Suddenly, Rebekah saw something. A piece of torn cloth was caught in a bramble bush. She held it up to the man.
“Is this hers?” she asked.
A cry of anguish came from the man. “Oh yes,” he said. “That was what she wore to bed last night. She must have been wearing it in the woods.”
He said he did not understand why she had left her home. She had not done anything like this before.
“We’ll find her,” Llewelyn said grimly. Rebekah put her arm around the man and they walked down the river bank more determined than ever.
Then Rebekah heard a soft sound, like crying, in the bushes. Was it a lost lamb? A child?
They searched the woods, walking in the direction of the sound, and eventually, there she was. The child, crying, like her heart had been broken.
“Are you all right?” asked her father. “Oh my darling, are you okay?”
When the girl looked up, there was blood on her face. Her eyes looked scared and she could barely speak.
“They came for me,” she sobbed. “They took me from my bed… ”
And she began to wail.
“Who?” Llewelyn asked. “Who took you?”
“The wolves!” she shrieked. “They took me in their jaws and brought me to their cave. I only escaped when they left the den to look for more food. I am so glad to have gotten out alive!”
Llewelyn’s face grew grim. “We’ll get them,” he said.
As Rebekah took the man and his daughter to her home to recover, Llewelyn set out on his own to track the wolves. He had no idea how to find them or what to do when he did. But he was brave and he was a prince. He had conquered fear against enemies before and he felt only determination as he walked deeper into the woods.
“I am the Powys Prince,” he said under his breath. “These demons will not escape me.”
He hunted them down. And he found them. There were six of them, huge wolves, with gaping jaws dripping with blood from a fresh kill. They had never taken humans before but these were hard times, desperate times, and the wolves had their own to feed. They had dragged back some family pets to their den to feed their pups, who had already devoured them. They howled and whimpered when they saw Llewelyn approach, but they stood their ground.
“I am Llewelyn, the Powys Prince,” he said to the alpha male wolf. “You have gone too far. You have stolen one of our people.”
The wolf sneered at him, and pulled back his mouth to show sharp canines. There was still blood on his fur. He ran for Llewelyn and tried to rip out his throat.
Llewelyn caught him with one hand and threw him back to the ground. Another wolf attacked from the back, and another from the side. But Llewelyn was ferocious, and kept throwing them to the ground. Finally, they gave up and slunk back into their den.
Llewelyn brushed himself off and went home.
When he got there, Rebekah was alone and sitting quietly by the window. When Llewelyn pushed open the door she leaped up and rushed into his arms.
“I thought I had lost you again!” she cried.
But Llewelyn just laughed and held her tight.
“You can never lose me,” he whispered in her ear. “I am your Powys Prince.”
And Llewelyn sat down and told her a long story about who he really was. He was born in Wales, many hundreds of years ago and had lived many life times.
“I am not who you think I am,” he smiled. “Because I am everyone you have ever dreamed of, even in your deepest sleep.”
Rebekah snuggled up to him even more.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I was a knight of the round table in King Arthur’s reign,” he smiled. “And before that I was a feuding Welshman along the coast of Scotland. And before that, I lived in Ireland and fought for King Connaught. And before that… ”
But by then, Rebekah was looking so confused, he stopped and kissed her on the mouth.
“But all you have to know, my beloved,” he smiled, “is that I am here now, with you.”
Rebekah was so happy. All her life she had dreamed of this man, and now here he was. This prince was her shining dream. Now her reality, and her whole world.
The two stayed in her little cottage in the woods for many years, living happily, fighting off wolves and whatever threatened their world, and keeping the love glowing brightly.
Once they went back to his native land and walked again on the castle ruins where they had first met, in this lifetime at least. It was wonderful to be in the same place again where love had blossomed so strongly.
“I love it here,” she smiled. “Can we stay?”
Llewelyn looked at her with such love that only an empty heart could not have felt his intensity. “For you, Rebekah, anything.”
They found a thatched cottage near the River Dee and spent many hours sitting there watching the flow of life. Rebekah built a small garden with wild flowers where the birds and little creatures could make their home. And on the side of the garden were two huge old yew trees that had been there for hundreds of years. They were a sign of eternity, and to Rebekah it was another symbol of her forever love.
Rebekah smiled to know that her prince would always be with her. Til death and beyond.
The End
Read more at Llewellyn and the Powys Princess, Rebekah in Wales and Rebekah in Ireland and Rebekah and the Celtic Gods and Rebekah and the Green Man.