KING DÔN
”I’ll pass.”, said Jehovah, God almighty and father high above there in the heaven. Well not exactly currently residing high above, as he had landed aground in Mount Olympus upon the earth to play poker with the rest of the European and middle-eastern gods and other spirits famous enough to be accept to the tournament.
“Why I’m not surprised…” Lug spat out his remark while moving his chips to the big pile that had been growing on the table. Dôn snickered and Jehovah raised his big white eye brown like he would really care… he didn’t and was about to leave the table when Dôn grabbed his sleeve and said: “Oh one more round, this game is turning really interesting…”
“Bah! I have no kings remaining! I already lost the Knautschling’s to this ill-dressed barbarian; You Celts shall play with their fortunes now. Their true god has abandoned the Danes!”
“Oh you are such a diva! Sit down and don’t abandon them!” Dôn laughed and Lug gave big grin before he corrected Dôn who was enjoying bit too much of the evening and the company of such men. There were only three of them left and with Jehovah leaving, this round would become the last one, and Lug and Dôn would play for the win…
“But he is right, I won the Danes in the last round, don’t you remember?”
“Oh dear, I think you did indeed….tssshii… you want to place them on there for this one too, eh?”
And Lug leaned over Dôn, placed his arms around her in most impropriate manner and whispered: “But honey, I already did…”
******
One misty moisty morning in the year of 1310 Dôn woke up and felt hollow pain in her forehead.
After ten minutes of suffering the agonizing ache, she decided to rest bit longer....
At the noon of that day, or the next, Dôn woke up again and felt deep thirst inside her body and soul. Her body he could content with nearby draw well, but her soul was wary of its own irrationality and her thoughts were abrupt, memory served her no good consolation of what so ever. ....Hints of war and switching sides, burning country sides and master plans of their allies and alliances to do....something?
...In the mist of recollection of last days, she shivered and felt that he needed more water to drink...plain water for now onwards...
The green pastures and the gentle nothingness in very middle-worldish fashion brought her finally to awake. She felt contented and calm. Air moved bit and the nature and wildlife responded to her in kind ways, Like for a fairy queen who had just come home after long, long absence.
Except, she was
The Queen of fairies… but was this home?
Dôn couldn’t tell, but it did felt like one. There were poplins and birches. A chestnut stood right beside her and the periwinkles bloomed away in their full blossom. It was home. It was Wales. It was Gwyneth.
“Doproye Utro Koroleva…ummm… A nice dawn, woman…izvinite, I speak Danglish very bad, I come from Mother Rossija”
It might not be a home after all… Dôn look up to the gentleman who had rode to the pastures; He had Rurikovich written all upon him.
“God morning my lord, what brings you to such far away from home?” Dôn asked gently and moved bit around… the morning dew felt right, the sun felt right…only thing that was not as it was when she left was this odd easterner wandering about.
“Ehj, Mje is home. Me from Gospodin…mje Brother Michael Rurikovich…Episkop Gwyneth.”
“Ah, Michael Rurikovich, nice to meet you…”
“Nhoo…Me brother…Michael, Hje is different…hje is crazy, hehh haa….izvinite…”
“Ah…” And Dôn took a distance from the big horse and from the man who talked like a madman.
“Whjat is....Koroleva, whjat Is you name?”
Dôn looked upon the man. She felt perfectly sure that he possessed no powers that could threaten her, so why not tell him her name.
“In here, I am called Dôn.”
And the man’s expression changed from gentleness to amazement, then to a bit of a horror and then as he stood down from the horseback and kneeled before her, to utter adore.
“Gosudar Dôn…” the man mumbled.
…all haill thou migthy Queen of heaven, you’re like on earth I ne’er did see… Dôn had have these meeting before. Seldom did men recognize her, but it did sometimes happen. Sometimes with madmen… Dôn did not want to take him with her to the otherside; she had no business there for little while.
“No…” She said, and begun to think of something.
“I am related to the princes and Kings of Dôn yeas, but I am not but a noble kin. Not…
gosudar”
“Njet gosudar?”
“Njet.”
“Ah I sjee…Okehj…Good. I was so afraid the King will come and kill poor Michael…hje is..crazy”
“No no… I don’t think that the Dôn King would come so far west to Denmark.”
“Okehj… Hje is Denmark I know it. I pledge my loyalty to Denmark Dôn…”
Denmark Dôn… How long had she been passed out? Was she on right time? In Right place? Dôn looked around, but kept the man under her eye, and tried to seek concealed hints of whether something was not all right.
“Are we in Gwyneth?”
“Hjes”
“In Wales?”
“Hjes”
“That belongs to Denmark?”
“Hjes?”
“Who is ruled by…?”
“Dôn”
“Dôn!”
“Hjes, Dôn…”
Dôn… King Dôn… a king of England and Prince of Wales… Dôn was speechless…what had happened, why… but a tear brought her thoughts from matters of reason and away from the concern of the situation back to her memories…How could duke of Wales fair in the world of Kings? And she remembered all of her offspring, the Children of Dôn and their fatality and grim look of life as they fought as little princes among the kings of grand splendor. And she wept a tear… For Foulgues and for Gwydion, for Prince Reko who was so humble and loyal to his own land that he was forced to become a king because of the Dônish stubbornness prevent him to cede one inch of the land he had governed…for St. Valta, the King of Vanaja who rode to Novgorod and then to Byzantion and then again to Novgorod in war that gave him the kingdom and spoils of war…the 7th son of Jurva who was 7th son of Reko…*
For all of them, children of Dôn, she shattered a little tear and one for Gwyneth, Wales and England too…
*who was such a inglorious bastard that I shame to have been so overtaken by other deeds that I couldn’t have written about his adventures in the great war of the rings. Perhaps someday in retro perspective…