[Grainne takes the look of interest as a sign to continue.]
The girl's name was Deirdre. Leabharcham, the old woman Conchobar had given the child to to raise, one day foretold her young charge Deirdre would love a man strong of heart, with hair as dark as a raven's feather, skin whiter than the mountain's snow, and lips red as blood. Deirdre thought on this for many days, wondering what such a man would be like.
Now, Leabharcham, being a wise woman, knew that Conchobar would never be a fit mate for a girl so young and beautiful. Deirdre owned her own heart, and only those she deemed worthy should have it. Leabharcham loved her as a daughter and wanted her to be happy. And she knew of a young man that fit those words exactly.
He was Naoise, the nephew of the king, with the arm of a mighty hunter yet could sing sweeter than a bird.
Leabharcham sent for Naoise secretly, and, feigning an illness, sent Deirdre out in her place to fetch some water. Being a clever one, she had arranged for the two to meet.
[She trails off, trying to remember the rest of the story. It had been such a long time since she heard anyone tell it, her mind went in seach for the details and any little bits she could remember. Some of it didn't seem right so far, but without hearing it again, she couldn't be sure.]
no subject
[Grainne takes the look of interest as a sign to continue.]
The girl's name was Deirdre. Leabharcham, the old woman Conchobar had given the child to to raise, one day foretold her young charge Deirdre would love a man strong of heart, with hair as dark as a raven's feather, skin whiter than the mountain's snow, and lips red as blood. Deirdre thought on this for many days, wondering what such a man would be like.
Now, Leabharcham, being a wise woman, knew that Conchobar would never be a fit mate for a girl so young and beautiful. Deirdre owned her own heart, and only those she deemed worthy should have it. Leabharcham loved her as a daughter and wanted her to be happy. And she knew of a young man that fit those words exactly.
He was Naoise, the nephew of the king, with the arm of a mighty hunter yet could sing sweeter than a bird.
Leabharcham sent for Naoise secretly, and, feigning an illness, sent Deirdre out in her place to fetch some water. Being a clever one, she had arranged for the two to meet.
[She trails off, trying to remember the rest of the story. It had been such a long time since she heard anyone tell it, her mind went in seach for the details and any little bits she could remember. Some of it didn't seem right so far, but without hearing it again, she couldn't be sure.]