#but since they're basically all related and the whole mess is started by a romantic affair I went with those two

[atlantic-riona]

Exile of the Sons of Uisliu

A (long! very long!) retelling of the tale, Longes mac nUislenn (“Exile of the Sons of Uisliu”), an Irish tale from the Ulster Cycle of medieval Irish literature. Written for the Four Loves Fairy Tale event by @inklings-challenge.

Notes: I’ve published part of this before, though right now I can’t find the post. I finished it for the challenge, as it fit well with the themes. It was originally intended to be a retelling that made it easier to approach medieval Irish literature for those who felt intimidated by the often more archaic translations. As such, it sticks very closely to the two sources I was working from, though events from both get blended together in a way that weren’t, strictly speaking, present in both tales. See the end of the story for sources (with links!) and further notes about the adaptation process.

Pronunciation: “Derdriu” = “Deer-druh,” Noisiu = “Nee-shuh,” “Cathbad” = “Kah-vuh,” “Conchobar” = “Kon-cho-var” (with the “ch” as in “loch”, though I’ve heard various other pronunciations as well, Leborcham = “Leh-vor-cham, Cúchulainn = “Koo-chull-in”, “Uisliu” = ish-loo, “Eogan” = “Oh-wen”, and “Medb” = “May-uhv”. The other names should be less tricky, but let me know if you have problems with them.

This is the story of Derdriu.

Of beauty in death.

Some say the story begins before she was even born, at her scream from her mother’s womb. This is somewhat true; it was indeed this scream that caused the men of Ulster to rise from their beds and demand to know its origin. And it was this scream that caused her mother to press her hands to her face and deny any knowledge of its origin, despite the fact it came from her own womb. Indeed, it was this scream that caused Cathbad, the great and wise druid, to set the question of its origin at rest.

He said, “It is your daughter, woman. Her loveliness will surpass all others; her green eyes and tall form will cause envy among queens and desire among kings. Men will slaughter for her and over her, and heroes will do great deeds in her name.”

He said, “She will bring great evil to our land.” Then he fell silent and no more was said on the subject.

And some say the story begins when Deirdre entered the world for the first time, innocent of her great power and tragic fate. Again, the druid Cathbad prophesied of the evil that would follow in the girl’s wake, of jealousy and war and exile. And of death, of beloved children and heroes alike.

“Her tale will be famous,” he said, “as famous as the graves of the men who fought for her and the men who come after her.”

Hearing this, the men of Ulster cried aloud, “Kill the child! Kill her!” For they did not wish to see Ulster and its people suffer such a fate.

“Wait!” came one voice from the crowd. It was Conchobar, king of Ulster. “This girl won’t be killed; I want her for myself. I’ll make sure that no man sees her before we are wed, so there will be no fighting. And so that there will be no jealousy either, no woman will see her.”

No man present defied him.

And so Derdriu was taken away and raised by foster-parents. True to his word, Conchobar let no one else see her-except for Leborcham, who was Conchobar’s messenger and a satirist. It was she who acted as nurse and teacher to Derdriu. Besides them, Derdriu had no contact with anyone or anything from the outside world.

A lonely life for anyone, to be sure.

Years passed, and Derdriu, as predicted, grew into the most beautiful woman in all of Éire. Her hair was yellow as a warrior’s cloak, and her eyes were green as the land she walked on day after day; her lips Parthian-red and her teeth pure white. She saw no one but her foster parents and Leborcham, who had grown very fond of the girl.

One winter day, Leborcham and Derdriu sat outside watching her foster-father slaughter a calf for their supper. The blood from the calf stained the snow, and a raven swooped down to drink it.

Derdriu was struck by this, and said to Leborcham, “I'd like a man such as that: hair as black as a raven, cheeks as red as blood, and body as white as snow.”

A familiar story, is it not?

Without thinking, Leborcham replied, “Then may you have success, for there is one close by. Noisiu son of Uisliu is the man you’re seeking.” Then she fell silent, for she had remembered that Derdriu was bound for Conchobar’s bed.

“I want to see him,” Derdriu said.

“You musn’t,” Leborcham said reluctantly.

“If I don’t, I’ll be sick.”

This went on for some time, until Leborcham agreed to lead Derdriu to where Noisiu was. However, she refused to do anything more than that, for although she was fond of the girl, she could see nothing but harm in encouraging anything further.

Noisiu’s habit was to wander the ramparts of Emain Macha, the place where Conchobar and the other Ulaid gathered, chanting to himself. The chanting of Noisiu and his brothers was said to increase the milk of any cow that heard it, it was that pleasing to listen to. And for any man or woman who heard their chanting, they at once felt peace and happiness.

Do not think that the sons of Uisliu were skilled only in chanting or other such arts. Their skill in battle was renowned; they were swift and strong, and if the three brothers had to fight all of Ulster at once they would be so skilled with their blades and so able at defending one another that it would be a long time before their defeat.

And they were honorable, too; it was their honor that would be their downfall in the end.

Having gotten Leborcham to tell her of this tradition of Noisiu’s, Derdriu made a plan.

Noisiu was walking along the ramparts alone, chanting, when Derdriu came up to him. As though she intended to pay him no attention or recognition, she strolled past him, his fine voice making her heart beat faster.

Noisiu stopped his chanting and watched her go by. When she made to pass him entirely, he said, “That is a fine heifer going by.”

“As well it might,” she said, and turned to face him. At seeing her beauty, he recognized her for Derdriu, King Conchobar’s future wife. “The heifers grow big where there are no bulls, you know.”

“You have the bull of this province all to yourself,” he said, not taking his eyes off her. “For you are to be wed to Conchobar himself.”

She tossed her head. “Of the two, I’d pick a game young bull like yourself.”

“Cathbad’s prophecy,” he said. “Have you forgotten it?” When she made no reply, he reminded her: “He said you will bring death and destruction to the men of Ulster. Your marriage to Conchobar is the solution to that.”

“I don’t want the men of Ulster or Conchobar,” she said and looked at him. “I want you.”

He shook his head and made to leave, although he did not wish to.

“Are you rejecting me?” she cried.

“I am.” 

She darted around in front of him and gripped him by the ears. “If you don’t take me with you, may shame and mockery fall upon you!”

“Leave me alone!”

“You’ll do it!”

“Woman, I will not!”

“My name is Derdriu,” she cried, “and I love you, Noisiu son of Uisliu! I loved you before I knew your face or form or voice, and now that I have seen them I love you even more! I will love you until the day I die!”

He reached up and pulled her hands from his ears. “Hush, or you’ll wake the whole of Ulster! Already the warriors inside exclaim and reach for their swords.” But he did not let go of her hands.

“It seems to be their recurring reaction to me,” she said, and they looked at each other without saying anything.

Perhaps Derdriu’s story begins here, where she and Noisiu made plans to slip away later that night when the sons of Uisliu and their company departed Emain, with Derdriu planning to hide amongst the women. Of course Noisiu’s brothers, Ardán and Annle, came with the two, and it was they who suggested seeking refuge with another king of Ireland. 

Whatever the start of the story was, this point was certainly the beginning of the end for all four of them.

They traveled from king to king, from one place to another, hunted by an angry Conchobar and all his warriors. Finally, in order to be free, they left Éire and escaped to the land of Alba.

They had no friends there, and so settled in the wilderness. Despite the fact that she was once again living with only three other people for company, Derdriu was happier than she had ever been. The brothers hunted for game, and when that ran out, they raided for cattle.

It was to be expected that the people of Alba rose up against them. As has been said before, the sons of Uisliu were skilled in many things, and cattle-stealing was certainly one of those things they excelled at. The people of Alba, however, excelled at disliking those who stole all of their livestock and food, and were certainly willing to do something about it. Both sides were well-matched, despite the brothers being greatly outnumbered. But the brothers were sick of fighting, and they searched for an alternative.

So they made an offer to the king of Alba: they would stop stealing cattle and in return, he would hire them as his soldiers. It was a good offer, and the king accepted it.

Noisiu and his brothers built their houses among the other warriors, but were careful to build them so that Derdriu could not be seen from the outside. For they did not wish for her beauty to bring them the same kind of trouble they had tried to escape in Éire. And for a time this worked.

But then, one day, the king’s steward came by early in the morning when everybody was asleep. He saw Derdriu and Noisiu sleeping peacefully, and even in sleep, Derdriu’s beauty struck him silent.

The steward went to the king, who was sleeping. The steward said, “My king, my king, I have found the perfect woman for you. She lies with Noisiu son of Uisliu even now, and she is a woman worthy of any king in the world. If you kill Noisiu now, you can have her to wife.”

The king declined to have Noisiu killed, saying, “Go instead and ask her every day in secret if she will leave Noisiu and wed me.”

And so every day the steward came to visit Derdriu while the brothers were away. And every day, she turned him down. At night, when the brothers returned, she told Noisiu of the steward’s visits.

“This is a bad business,” said Noisiu, “but I can’t see what there is to be done about it yet.” For if they offended the king, they could not return to Éire, and where else could they go? So the visits continued.

As Derdriu refused the king’s advances day after day, the king tried a different tactic. He ordered the brothers into fierce battles and set dangerous traps for them in the hopes that they would be slaughtered. But the sons of Uisliu were so skilled in battle and so clever that they always ended up unharmed.

Finally, the king grew weary of all this. “Try her one last time,” he told the steward. “Then we’ll kill the sons of Uisliu and take her anyway.”

The steward did as the king commanded. He said to Derdriu, “Listen. If you don’t do as the king wishes, he will gather up all the men of Alba and slaughter your beloved Noisiu and his brothers. Is that what you desire? Rather, by going to the king you may save their lives.”

It is not known what exactly Derdriu said to him after that, but it is certain that it was yet another refusal. The steward went away angry, and told the king that Derdriu had rejected him yet again. The men of Alba were called. Derdriu saw that they were many in number, too many for the sons of Uisliu to defeat without terrible cost.

Noisiu, Ardán, and Annle came home and Derdriu told them what the steward had said.

“You must leave,” she said. “If you don’t leave tonight, you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

Ardán, the youngest brother, said, “Will you not be coming with us, then?”

Annle, the middle brother, said, “It would certainly be a waste of all our efforts so far if she did not.”

And Noisiu, the eldest brother, said, “Do you not think we can protect you?”

So Derdriu went with them. They left that very night and traveled over the sea until they reached an island that was between Alba and Éire. The king of Alba pursued them with many men, but the sons of Uisliu fended them off in a series of battles deserving of their own heroic legend.

The news of the exiles’ flight from Alba reached Éire. Everybody said to Conchobar that it would be a great shame if the sons of Uisliu fell to an enemy king in an enemy land by the fault of a bad woman. “Forgive and protect them instead, Conchobar, and let the sons of Uisliu come home,” they said. “It is better to do this then to let them be harmed by enemies.”

“Very well then,” Conchobar said. “Let them come home. I will guarantee their safety. Send for them.”

“Who will take the message?” they asked.

“It is well known that Noisiu son of Uisliu will only come in peace to Éire again if he is brought by one of three people: Cúchulainn son of Sualdam, Conall Cernach son of Amergin, and Fergus mac Roich,” Conchobar said. “I will choose one of them.”

He took Conall aside and asked him, “What would you do, Conall, if I sent you to bring the sons of Uisliu back to Éire and through some cunning and betrayal-not my own, of course-they were slaughtered despite your promises of safety?”

Conall answered, “Any Ulsterman, no matter who he was, would fall at my hand. No man would escape my wrath.”

“That is a good answer, Conall,” Conchobar said. “But I see you will not be my choice.”

Next he asked his nephew Cúchulainn the same question. 

Cúchulainn was more perceptive and answered thus: “I swear that if you were to ask me to do such a thing, and to bring them home to be slain by you, I would take no bribe from you, great though it might be, in favor of taking your own head for such a deed.”

“I see that you do not love me either, Cúchulainn,” Conchobar said, and sent him away.

He called Fergus over to him and asked him the same question.

And Fergus said, “I swear not to attack you yourself, but if any Ulsterman should attempt harm on them, death and destruction will meet that man by my hands.”

“You will be messenger, Fergus,” Conchobar said. “It was you who had the best answer.”

So Fergus mac Roich was chosen as messenger. He sailed to their island, accompanied only by his son Fiacha, but could find no traces of the exiles. He made a loud call for them. Derdriu and Noisiu were playing fidchell, and both heard Fergus’ shout. 

“That is a man of Éire shouting,”said Noisiu, looking up from the board.

Derdriu recognized it as Fergus’ voice, but said, “No, you are mistaken. That is a man of Alba.”

Again Fergus shouted, and again Noisiu looked up from the board. “There it is again, and this time I am sure it came from a man of Éire.”

“You are mistaken,” Derdriu said, “and now it is your turn. Play on.”

Fergus shouted a third time, and this time Noisiu knew for certain his voice was that of a man from Éire. He rose from his seat and told Ardán to go and meet the speaker, to see who it was. For it would make them poor hosts if they neglected their guest any longer.

“I know who it is,” said Derdriu. “It is Fergus mac Roich. I recognized his voice from the start.”

Angry, Noisiu demanded to know why she had concealed this from him.

“I dreamed last night,” she said. “I dreamed that three birds flew to us from Emain Macha, and that in their beaks were three sips of honey. They left the honey with us, but took three sips of our blood in return.”

Noisiu sat down. “What do you think your dream meant?” Dreams might foretell the future or provide insight into the present, and so were not to be ignored.

“Fergus comes from our beloved home bearing a message of peace, but the message he bears is false, for a false message of peace is sweeter than honey. That is the meaning of the honey.”

“And the blood?” said Ardán, for he hadn’t left yet.

“The three sips of blood the bird took from us,” said Derdriu, “are the three of you, who will leave with him and be tricked.”

“I wish you hadn’t said that,” said Ardán. The others agreed.

Then Noisiu said, “Never mind that for now. We’ve left Fergus waiting at the harbor for far too long. Ardán, go and fetch him.”

Ardán, grumbling, went down to fetch Fergus. But he was much heartened to see him and his son, and kept asking tidings of Éire, and of Ulster especially.

“It’s glad we are to see you,” Fergus and Fiacha said, “and we’ll tell you everything when everyone’s there to hear it.”

And when Noisiu and Annle and Derdriu saw the travelers, their hearts were gladdened also; and they also asked for tidings of the land they missed so dearly.

“We bring the best tidings,” Fergus said. “I have been sent to bring you back to Éire. Conchobar guarantees your safety, and I swear to you I’ll see you safe to him on the very day we set foot back in Éire.”

“Don’t go,” said Derdriu to Noisiu. “It will end badly, I’m sure of it.” 

But the brothers dearly missed their homeland, and great was their desire to return.

“We will go,” they said. And even though they longed to return, they were also practical and knew they must put in safeguards. “But only if you yourself, Fergus, accompany us, as well as Dubthach and Conchobar’s eldest son Cormac, and if all three of you swear as to our safety.”

Fergus agreed to this, as it was a prudent request, given what had happened the last time the four had set foot in Éire. 

But Derdriu argued against it; she said that going to Éire would be their doom and that she felt sure their deaths awaited them there. And although the brothers pleaded and cajoled, argued and promised, she would not be swayed.

Finally Fergus said to her, “You need not fear, lady: should all the men of Éire betray you, I will fight and defeat them no matter how great their number. Their shields will be poor protection against the wrath of my sword. Of that you may be certain.”

“Friend Fergus,” she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”

They boarded the ship and set sail for Éire. As they passed Alba’s shores, Derdriu looked behind her at them and cried, “Farewell to you, O land that I loved! O land that was my home, I will miss your shores and hills, and the happy days we spent among them. O land, I will not see you again in this lifetime.”

Then she sang a lament, mourning all the places she had loved and lost. “If it were not for Noisiu,” she said, “I would not have left them.”

Dubthach and Cormac met them when they landed. The sons of Uisliu were so glad to be home that they swore they would not rest or eat until they had eaten Conchobar’s food. So the group started their journey at once.

Alas, Conchobar’s treachery knew no bounds. For he had sent Borrach mac Annte to draw Fergus away from them, and this was how he did it.

There was a geas upon Fergus, and it was this: he could not refuse an invitation to a feast. A geas was a powerful thing, and the breaking of it would lead to one’s doom.

Borrach met up with the group on the road and invited Fergus to several feasts. Fergus grew red with anger and cursed Borrach, saying it was ill-done of him to pick today of all days to invite him to a feast. Borrach would not rescind his invitations and so Fergus was caught between his promise to see the sons of Uisliu safely to Conchobar and his old geas.

“What should I do?” Fergus asked Noisiu.

Derdriu said, “Do what you want, friend Fergus. If you prefer to forsake us for a feast, then by all means do so. Leaving us is surely a good price to pay for a feast.”

“I won’t forsake you,” he said. “I’ll send my son Fiacha on with you and my own word of honor as well. And there will be Dubthach and Cormac as well.”

But Dubthach and Cormac chose to remain with Fergus, leaving only Fergus’ son Fiacha to accompany the sons of Uisliu and Derdriu.

“We give you thanks,” said Noisiu to Fiacha, “since none but our own hands have ever defended us in combat.” They were angry with Borrach, and left quickly. 

Fergus was gloomy about that but trusted that the whole of Éire could not defeat Fiacha.

“Noisiu,” Derdriu said, “I will give you some advice, although you will not listen to it.”

Noisiu drew her closer. “What is this advice of yours, O Derdriu?”

“Tonight we should go back to our island and remain there until Fergus has finished with his feast. Thus his word will be fulfilled and we may continue onward with him as safeguard.”

“That is evil advice,” Fiacha said. “My father has sworn to see you safe home today, and I am duty-bound to carry out his oath. Do you doubt his honor? If you turn back now it will be an insult.”

Derdriu was silent for a long time. At last she spoke: “Great is the evil fallen upon us today because of Fergus, since he abandoned us for a feast.” She was greatly sorrowed, for she had only agreed to come back to Éire because of Fergus’ oath to protect them. And then she chanted:

“Great is my grief that I have come 

at Fergus’ word, that reckless son of Roich.

I will lament and mourn forevermore—

and my heart is bitter because of it.

O sons of Uisliu—

your last days have come.”

Noisiu chanted in response:

“Say not such things,

O woman as radiant as the sun!

Fergus would not have fetched us

if destruction were in his heart.”

Derdriu chanted:

“Alas, I grieve for you,

O delightful son of Uisliu!

To have left our home in strange lands—

nothing good will come of it.”

They came to the White Cairn of the Watching, on Sliab Fuad. There was a pleasant glen there. Derdriu stayed behind and fell asleep. At first they did not notice she was not with them, but Noisiu, turning to say something to her, let out a cry of startlement. 

“What is it?” Annle asked.

“Derdriu is not with us; she must have fallen behind.”

They hurried back and arrived there just as she was waking up. Noisiu knelt beside her. “Why did you stay behind, Derdriu?”

“I fell asleep,” said she, “and as I slept I dreamed.”

“What did you dream of?” he said.

“I saw each of you without a head,” she said. “I grew frightened and woke up.”

“It was only a dream,” he said.

“A sad dream,” she said.

Then they traveled onward to a place known as “the Height of the Willows.” Then Derdriu said to Noisiu, “I see a cloud of blood about your head, and I would give all of you advice!”

“What is your advice, Derdriu?” Noisiu asked.

“To go tonight to Cúchulainn’s place of dwelling and stay there until Fergus comes; or to have Cúchulainn escort us with promises of safety to Conchobar.”

“I am not afraid,” said Noisiu, “so we will not do that. And we have sworn to stop for nothing until we reach Conchobar anyway.”

Derdriu sang a song, then, about the great cloud of blood she saw hanging over Noisiu’s head, but Noisiu ignored this. 

They went onwards through the familiar lands, accompanied by Fergus’ son Fiacha, until they came to the green at Emain Macha.

While they had been traveling to Emain, Conchobar had made peace with his old enemy, Eogan mac Durthacht, the king of Fernmag. Eogan was to kill Noisiu and his brothers, and any who opposed this.

So when Derdriu, the sons of Uisliu, and Fiacha came to the green at Emain, Eogan was waiting for them in the middle of it with Conchobar. Hired soldiers surrounded Conchobar so that the sons of Uisliu could not reach him. Behind them, women sat on the ramparts of Emain to watch the fighting.

Eogan and his men came to where the sons of Uisliu stood. Fiacha was standing at Noisiu’s side. Eogan delivered Conchobar’s welcome to Noisiu with a spear thrust so fierce it broke his back. Fiacha grabbed Noisiu and flung himself over him, bringing them both down to the ground. The second spear thrust through Fiacha’s body ended Noisiu. Then the green came alive with battle.

Ardán and Annle defended Derdriu fiercely. They linked their shields together and put her between them, and such was their skill that they slaughtered all those who came against them.

Seeing so many fall, Conchobar turned to Cathbad the druid. “O Cathbad, work some enchantment upon the sons of Uisliu. See their skill and how many they have slain. If they should escape now, Ulster will never be safe from them. I swear if you do this, I will not harm Uisliu’s sons.”

Conchobar’s words were persuasive in the face of all the dead strewn about the green, and Cathbad believed him. He lifted a hand and suddenly a sea, with great waves that crashed like thunder, lay ahead of the sons of Uisliu and Deirdre. Behind them, not two feet away, were the men of Ulster, waiting for the chance to strike. The sea surged ever closer, threatening to engulf them, and the brothers placed Derdriu on their shoulders so that she would be safe from drowning.

With the sons of Uisliu thus trapped, Conchobar ordered someone to kill the brothers. But no man of Ulster moved, for everyone there had borne Noisiu and his brothers great love.

But Eogan mac Durthacht spoke up, saying that he was ready to behead them both.

“Since that is so,” Ardán said, “kill me first, as I am the youngest.”

“No,” Annle said. “Kill me first instead.”

Then Eogan struck a blow that severed the heads of both on the spot, and all the Ulstermen cried out in grief.

Fergus had been told of the treachery of Conchobar, and came now with Dubthach and Cormac to Emain. They entered the green, and saw Noisiu, lying dead under Fiacha’s body, and Ardán and Annle, beheaded by Eogan.

Furious at how his oath had been broken and his son slain, Fergus gave battle to the men of Ulster. Dubthach and Cormac joined him. All three fought fiercely, and many fell by their hand that day, including Cormac’s younger brother Maine.

During the fighting, Deirdre slipped away to the far side of the green, and it was there she happened to meet Cúchulainn, returning to Emain Macha. 

“Are you here to betray us too?” she said to him. “The sons of Uisliu lie dead on the green of Emain; you may as well kill the daughter of Fedlimid and lay her with them.”

“Dead? Betrayed?” Cúchulainn asked, and Derdriu told him the whole sorry tale. At this a glint came into his eye and he said, “That is sad news indeed. Who killed them?”

“Eogan mac Durthacht,” she said. “But it was at Conchobar’s demand.”

“Let us go and find them,” Cúchulainn said, “and make sure they have a proper burial.” He had not yet realized that his foster-father Fergus was the one leading the fight against Conchobar and Eogan’s men, and so he did not join the fight himself—though if he had, it would not have gone well for his enemies.

They came to the place where the bodies lay, and Derdriu flung herself down on top of Noisiu and kissed him, her lips red with his blood. “Without the three sons of Uisliu, I am not alive,” she said. “A day spent with them was full of mirth; a day without them a day of mourning. A curse on Conchobar, a curse on Cathbad, a curse on me—I wish I had died, that trickery and floods on my behalf had not killed them!”

And she sang a song of lamentation, refusing to part from the fallen brothers, though Cúchulainn tried to persuade her to flee to safety.

There was much weeping in Emain that day; and not just for the many brave Ulstermen who had fallen at the hands of Fergus, Dubthach, and Cormac. Dubthach slew the women of Ulster, and Fergus burned Emain. Three thousand men joined them when they went to Connacht. Ailill and Medb, the rulers of Connacht, welcomed them—not out of any great love, but because of the enmity between them and Ulster. With Aillil and Medb they found protection, but the exiles’ vengeance did not stop there. There was not a single night that passed from that day without the exiles wreaking more destruction and sorrow upon Ulster.

As for Derdriu, she was with Conchobar a year. During that year she did not smile. She barely ate, she rarely slept. She rested her head on her knee and would not lift it, though Conchobar brought musicians to try and raise her spirits.

When the musicians came, she would chant:

“You say the men of Emain coming home 

triumphant is a brilliant sight to see;

I say that more brilliant was the sight

of the sons of Uisliu returning home.

Noisiu bearing mead, 

Ardán and Anle bearing meat—

a sweeter supper by far

than any at the table of Conchobar.

The airs you play today lack the music

of Noisiu, who sang like the sea,

of Ardán, who sang bright as sunlight,

of Anle, who sang like the wind in the trees.

I loved Noisiu, the great hero—

loved him to his death.

I don’t sleep, I can’t sleep—

the son of Uisliu will never return.”

If Conchobar tried to calm her, she would say, “What are you thinking, you who heaped sorrow upon me? I might live a hundred years or more, and yet even then I wouldn’t have any love for you. You took the thing I loved most in the world, and I will not see him until I die. I weary of you—I see nothing but the dark stones of the grave covering Noisiu, once so bright and beautiful.”

And if he persisted, she would say to him, “Fergus wronged us, taking us over the sea to you. He sold his honor for a drink. If all the warriors of Ulster gathered before us today, without hesitation I would trade them all for Noisiu. Do not break my heart further today; I am not long for the grave. My sorrows are higher and heavier than the waves of the sea. If you were wise, you would know this.”

One day, Conchobar tired of this and asked, “Who do you hate most?”

“You and Eogan mac Durthecht!” she said.

“Then go live with Eogan for a year,” he said.

He gave her to Eogan, and the next day the three set out for the gathering at Macha. Derdriu was behind Eogan in the chariot. She looked down, so that she would not have to see the two men she hated most. She had sworn that neither of them would have her.

Conchobar had been watching her and Eogan, and when he saw her look down, he said, “Your glance is that of a ewe between two rams, Derdriu, sitting here between me and Eogan.”

Up ahead, there was a big boulder. When she heard him, she leapt up and struck her head upon it, smashing her skull to bits, and she was dead.

Even then, Conchobar was jealous that Noisiu and Derdriu dwellt in death together, and he ordered that their graves be far apart from one another. Yet every morning, the graves were found open, with the lovers inside one of them. To keep them apart, Conchobor had stakes of yew driven through their bodies, and the graves remained closed.

This was the story of Derdriu. Of beauty in death. Beauty brought Derdriu death: the death of the sons of Uisliu, the death of many in Ulster, and lastly her own death.

It was not death itself that was beautiful. The beauty was how Derdriu lived. Destined for a tragic fate even in the womb, was there ever any escape for her? And yet she chose, again and again, to turn away from the path laid out for her. Again and again, she chose the son of Uisliu.

Perhaps that had always been her fate. Or perhaps not. Prophecies are fickle things.

Years passed. Ulster and Connacht went to war. Cúchulainn stood alone against Medb’s invading army, and was later betrayed; death, winged raven, perched on his shoulder. Conchobar heard of the death of Christ and became so angry at the injustice that blood sprang from his head and he died. His eldest son Cormac was invited out of exile to be king of Ulster, and swearing friendship with Aillil and Medb, returned—only to meet death at the hands of men of Connacht. Fergus met death at the hands of Ailill, who met death through the plotting of Medb, who met death by the patient vengeance of one of Conchobar’s sons. Emain Macha was abandoned for Ard Macha close by, which became Armagh, where Saint Patrick built his church.

Two yew trees grew from the stakes in the graves. They grew and grew, until they became so tall that they could entwine with each other at last, centuries later, over the cathedral at Armagh.

Sources: “The Tragical Death of the Sons of Usnach,” The Cuchullin saga in Irish literature, Eleanor Hull (p. 22-53) and “Exile of the Sons of Uisliu,” The Táin, translated by Thomas Kinsella (p. 8-20).

Additional Notes: Because this was meant to make the medieval tales more approachable, in parts of my retelling there may be dialogue and such that read like simplified/altered versions of the original sources. I highly recommend reading the originals, linked below, for a fuller appreciation of the tale, especially Kinsella’s, as in my opinion his translations are the most readable and beautiful of any I’ve read. I’m happy to provide more detail about the adaptation process, the history behind the literature, and the wider context of the Ulster Cycle if anybody has questions. 

[ikam177]

Oh no I had a Homestuck dream and now there's that one Dirk & Hal twins AU that won't ever leave my mind, but it'd be best written as a longfic and my track record with keeping up writing those is Not Great (then again I only wrote like, one, so the statistics are pretty skewed lmao).

Very long rambling about the AU under the cut (this is very long and rambly so buckle up) :

So, the AU would be in two parts, but the very basic of it is : during the ectobiology segment, John accidentally makes two Dirks, one of which will later become Hal. This creates an entirely new (miraculously undoomed) timeline.

Post-scratch

The bigger half of the AU (the one I dreamt about, p much), follows Dirk and Hal as twins, post-scratch, but there's another catch to that AU : they don't get in contact with the Cherubs nor the other Alpha kids until they're already in the game, but are still part of the same session. Essentially, they're like "ghost" players who exist in the same Medium as the others, but don't make contact until later.

Their relationship is a bit different than in canon, firstly because Hal starts off as his own person from the very beginning rather than a splinter of Dirk's, and also because their total isolation from the rest of the session means that they only have each other for human interaction. They're closer to each other, even if they bicker at times because, well, they're brothers who've been forced to live in very close quarters their whole lives. Also, teenagers. Their situation however causes them to be quite codependent, and they sometimes have trouble telling where one ends and the other begins. This later causes problems as they're trying to establish their own personalities and relationships outside each other while being unwilling to let go of each other (because would it really be the Alpha session if there wasn't some sort of drama happening? I think not).

Due to being anomalies unplanned for by Sburb, their case is a bit particular. They share the same room on Derse, but have different beds. Likewise, they have the same planet due to the way they managed to enter the game (Hal played as the server, while Dirk played as the client without closing the chain, so the game treated them as one singular player in that aspect), but each have their own quest bed (I like to think of this AU's Hal as a Mage of Mind, btw). Basically, the game is a bit glitchy about those two, and treats them as both a single player yet multiple entities.

It's purely by accident that they meet the others, when Jake goes through one of his gates and lands on Dirk and Hal's planet (and promptly suffocates because Krypton! Yay! Which leads to Dirk lending him his mask while he holds his breath until they're all safe in the apartment). I'd like to keep the DirkJake in because 1) I like the ship, and 2) it'd be a perfect catalyst for some development between the twins and Jake. While one wants to get into a relationship, the other doesn't want to get left behind. Meanwhile, Jake doesn't know how to deal with the twins' codependency in relation to his romantic relationship with Dirk, and does the best thing he does : run away from his problems. (I'd like to give them a better ending than whatever awkward mess canon gave them, though, mostly because I think they'd work well together if they learned to talk to each other honestly. And also because, again, I like the ship, sue me.)

Technically, they both know of Roxy from her sleepwalking tendencies and their habits of bringing her back to her room on Derse, but they don't know her name or personality until she and Jane are formally introduced to them through Jake. She has vague dream memories and ends up recognizing them, though she never realized they were separate people. She is, however, delighted to meet them, especially since they can very much relate to living in a post-apocalyptic water-submerged future. Since canon!Dirk and Roxy tend to use troll terms when it comes to romance (a fact which is, imo, way underutilized in both canon and fanon), I'd like her to have a pale relationship with either of the twins (or maybe even both! Hell, it's the apocalypse, nobody's there to stop you from going all polyamorous in whatever quadrant you see fit).

As for Jane, I think her relationship with both Dirk and Hal would be very similar to canon, though she'd probably start off being much more polite to them. But once they get closer, she's not afraid to give them the good old Crocker-brand snark, making sure to tell them in their face and with zero sugar-coating when they mess up. She'd get into pretty intense snark-offs with Hal, and I can certainly see her acting as a particularly no-nonsense auspictice between Hal and Jake during the whole Striders-Jake debacle, without even being aware that's what she's doing. I think she'd be closer to Hal, actually, mostly because I love to think of the absurd amount of sarcasm those two would produce if left to their own devices. Delicious.

Also, since the twins entered on their own without closing the loop properly, the chain is as follows :

a. Jane -> Jake -> Roxy -> Jane (closed chain, Sburb properly registers three players, don't ask me how they managed to get in without Dirk's ridiculous transtimeline corpse smooching extravaganza, I have no idea)

b. Hal -> Dirk (unclosed chain, Sburb thinks it's just one player due to that and the fact they live in the same place)

While there are technically two chains, one of which is seemingly incomplete, they're still all part of a single session and end up in the same Medium.

The only reason said session isn't doomed is because of (ironically) how glitchy it is. It's so buggy that it just...works somehow even though it really shouldn't because the session is unbalanced as hell. Due to said glitchiness however, this timeline is isolated from all others, and only the similarly glitched pre-scratch and troll sessions can communicate with it using the usual "Jade makes everyone travel in-between dimensions" and "hitching a ride on the trolls' meteor in the veil" ways. The only way they can interact with outside timelines (like the Alpha and all its doomed derivatives) is through the dream bubbles, though it's still a difficult thing because their own bubbles, while accessible from the outside, are pretty isolated and hard to find. (On the plus side, it means their timeline is very hard to find for LE, so there's that.)

2. Pre-scratch

Now, this part is much smaller, and would probably be written as a different fic in the same series, not because I don't care about pre-scratch, but mostly because I only dreamt about post-scratch, so this part only came to me later with less details.

Since John did his little ectobio mishap, it means there are two "Bros" as well, or the Dirk and Hal pair wouldn't exist post-scratch. This changes some things, particularly when it comes to Dave's childhood.

Now, it's no secret that canon!Bro is abusive, and while a lot of it definitely comes from Cal (like all the Saw references, and the excessively sexual stuff lying around the apartment), I'm pretty sure many of his actions are simply amplified to the max by said puppet. Wanting to make his friends/family stronger by beating the crap out of them and putting them in difficult situations is a very Dirk thing to do, and while his intentions are good (and are recognized as good, if way overzealous, in post-scratch), they are amplified so much by Cal's influence that they end up becoming actively harmful. Back then, Dave had no idea about the possession (and was just a kid), and Bro didn't seem like a very sociable dude in general, so no one could have known he wasn't fully acting as himself.

But what if there was a second person, one he'd been with since meteor-birth?

If this AU's Hal is a Mage of Mind, then he'd be pretty resistant to brainwashing attempts (like Sollux and Meulin's own resistance to the worst effects of their aspect, despite being often targeted by said aspects), and it would mean he would also notice if his brother's own mind was being messed with. He could catch it early enough that it doesn't permanently change pre-scratch Dirk into his canon self.

This means that Dave's childhood, while not perfect, will definitely be marginally different. For one, he has two brothers instead of one. Two, since Hal would have kept the worst of the brainwashing at bay (maybe by getting rid of Cal? Which would cause a rift between them because they both genuinely love the demonic thing, but it'd be better on the long term), their interactions with Dave would be way more human. Actual food where it's supposed to be, puppet-pranks for the purpose of brotherly teasing and not for causing constant paranoia in a young child, strife that's actual training and not ruthless beatdowns for the sake of it. And sure, it'd be unconventional, and being exposed to violence, even well-intentioned, so young would definitely have an affect on Dave, but I think his relationship to his Bros would be much more positive and would cause less distress for him on the long run.

...aaaand that's all I have for pre-scratch right now, but I'm sure I'll come up with more stuff later. Writing all this out in a somewhat understandable manner kinda fried my brain lmao.

[piccolina-mina]

The entire One Chicago franchise is a mess when it comes to the romantic components of the series. But Chicago PD continues to be the most uninspired, boring, and redundant mess when it comes to their romantic ships and how they display them.

It's as if someone holds a gun to their head and says "let's choose the most basic, young, white heteronormative relationships and smack a cutesy name on them. Fandom will eat it up!" And without fail, fandom always does.

It's bad enough that half the Intelligence Unit thinks they can only date or sleep with each other. It's also bad enough that it further contributes to Chicago PD's ongoing issue with rarely knowing what to do with its female characters beyond specific plots I've come to call the "traditionally feminine womanly plots" and tying them in with a male character where everything about them hinges on their connection to a male. And also that "there can only be one" issue where only one of the female characters can serve as the primary one while the others duke it out for screentime, plot, and relevancy (congrats on always winning Lindsay and Hailey).

But they recycle the same things ad nauseum. For eight seasons, they would rather devote all of their time cooking up romantic subplots that exclusively feature a constant rotation of Ruzek and Halstead. I get it, they're attractive, hell, I'm no stranger to thirsting over Ruz myself, but they're the lotharios of the unit as if only they can be desirable, and it's gotten so old. My God.

They would rather give us these two involved with mostly young and white women, especially their squad mates, then devote screentime to literally any alternative couple.

I mean they have SHARED a love interest. Why? The only ships they have ever devoted significant screentime or development to: Halstead and Erin, Halstead and Upton, Ruzek and Burgess, Ruzek and Upton, Burgess and Roman. Qwhite shocking, I know.

Trudy and Mouch have one of the sweetest crossover romances from the franchise, and it's so refreshing to see a middle-aged couple find love, and yet, they've all but cooled off showing them, rarely give that ship screentime, and it tends to stay in the peripheral compared to the big ships.

Dawson had a romance with Brett from Chicago Fire (another character who gets passed around to the point of absurdity), but they did very little with it, and most of THAT even took place on CF.

They gave Dawson something troubling with another law enforcement officer or whatever for like a single episode, but hell, they still devoted more time and actual arcs to the two or three times where they put Halsted in similar relationships because of course they did.

Never forget that the first relationship that dates pre-series was Chicago Fire's Gabby with *spins wheel* you guessed it, Jay Halstead.

And of course there was Erin and Severide. So pretty. So ... basic.

Yet they never attempted to give us more of Dawson and his wife or Olinsky and his. The women were barely characters on the series. It would've been something.

I don't mind Burzek. Out of all the ships, I enjoy them most more often than not, but it has been eight seasons of will they/won't they bullcrap that they've drawn out. All of these ups and downs. The one non-cop related romance Burgess had lasted all of a second and ended in tragedy because heaven forbid they DON'T put that woman through endless pain.

But they've always remained the second place ship of the series, and it's just... enough. Meanwhile, we started the series with Erin and Halstead monopolizing screentime with their romantic situationship drama, and instead of giving it a rest and changing things up when she left, they switched it out with the Halstead and Hailey will they/won't they. Why?

Heaven forbid Halstead or Ruzek don't have a piece of ass.

Ruzek was even Trudy's choice for a relationship ruse to dupe her father.

In the meantime, one of the most outlandish and unrealistic parts of this series is that Kevin Atwater-- young, smart, just as hot as Chicago PD's golden, pretty, white boys hasn't had a real, significant romantic storyline in the eight years this series has been on air.

In what universe does that make sense? Single, eligible, employed, decent black man? Da faq?

Pardon my bluntness but Kevin Atwater should be seeing more ass than a toilet seat. The fact that he isn't batting folks off with a stick is ludicrous.

He had ONE fkd up romantic storyline in his one "very special black Kevin" episode in season SIX and that's it. Pardon me? Do you know how many of those Jay has had? Twice or more than Kevin.

On a series that pairs up colleagues like it's their mission, they never once even considered taking the Burgess and Atwater relationship in any other direction beyond platonic (and even that is underused these days). I'm not even saying I would've wanted that. I'm just pointing out that it made no sense given their track record to not even tease it. But Kevin is only good for platonic purposes, I suppose.

The fact that they put all their eggs in a potential Atwater and Rojas ship, that never even came to fruition, in season SEVEN of a series Atwater has been in since the beginning when characters like Adam and Jay have already had two relationships or more under their belts by then is ridiculous.

And then there's Voight. He's the lead character and never once had a romantic storyline. If he were younger, you already know they would've went there a few times over.

Yet the closest Hank has come to one is an ambiguous scene with him talking to a sex worker in a hotel room back in, like, season two. Are we to believe that he has never once developed feelings for or even had sex with anyone else since his wife died? He's never moved on after that?

They could easily allude to him being on an ace or demi spectrum if they want, even if I would side eye them for choosing the older character to do it, but if that's the case, they should do something with that.

Even a storyline with a widowed, middle- aged hardass finding love or getting some would be infinitely more interesting and at the very least something different than the same old same old Ruzek & Halstead merry-go-round. Damn, the 50 and over crowd need love too.

And yet Chicago PD keeps feeding us the same bland diet repackaged.

Fine. Burzek has been a thing from the beginning. But after Jay and Erin WHY did they need Hailey and Jay? And if they were going to do Jay and Hailey, why in the mother loving fk did we need Hailey and Adam?

The good sis bagged not one but both of the coveted white boys.

I mean, just for variety, Dawson was right there. Kevin was right there. I wouldn't have been a fan, but hell, it would at least be something different. Much better than acting as if Halstead and Ruzek are the only viable romantic options.

Why subject her to that?

Isn't it bad enough that she's more often than not reduced to being Lindsay Lite anyway? They struggle to give her a presence that deviates and distinguishes her from Erin as is. From her troubled past, and her stage of being mini- Voight and challenging his authority, to this thing with Jay.

Hell, they even repeated a whole job offer thing.

Mind you, don't get me started on how they missed what should've been the obvious chance to make Hailey queer. If I'm stepping on toes, my bad, but everything about Hailey screamed bi or lesbian. She radiated queer energy, but INSTEAD they chose to pair her with not one but both of CPD's romantic male leads.

Why beat this well-tread path yet again?

Of all the possibilities, and all the different avenues they can explore, they just keep dipping into that same well, and it's so tiresome. It's so unoriginal and uninspired. Yes, it's just so basic. I'm talking 20th century shipping... CPD is so outdated with this and it makes it hard to invest or care about any of them, especially if you already aren't inclined to ship within the series as is.

Shock me. Thrill me. Intrigue me. Bloody hell.

[actually-impostor]

Could you do a fluffy Moxiety fic, where they're best friends who have fallen for each other? I'm kind of a sucker of classic prompts. Please don't hurt yourself and take your time.

Im a suckerfor classic prompts too my friend, and thanks! My wrist is way better latelyso!! I finally have time to finish this prompt!Don’t be tricked by the title, the fanfic is like G in rating. Also, this is aHuman AU

My best friend’s hot

Moxiety

Warnings: dorks crushing on each other,self-doubt, nothing else.

This is longer than i expected! Hope you like it and im sorry for the wait!

-0-0-0-0-

“He’s justso cute Logan!”

“Yes, you’vebeen saying that since we were 15, why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“Because!”

“That’s notan answer”

“He’s cute, how am I even going to tell him I’vebeen crushing on him for years? We, as a group, still have sleepovers and Angeland I always share a bed!”

“Your pointbeing?”

“He’s gonnathink all those times were with bad intentions!”

“Okay, youare jumping to conclusions. As Angel himself would say “you are parkouring allover the place” and that’s not ideal”

“Why do youthink so?”

“He hasknow you since you both were basically babies, he knows how and who you are”

Morganconsidered everything his more logical inclined friend had said. It was true, theyall had become a group when they were 13 but he and Angel had been friendssince pre-school. They knew each other; they knew each other’s boundaries,likes, dislikes, when one was feeling overwhelmed, and everything else.

Loganstared at his friend, he honestly couldn’t understand why Morgan hadn’tconfessed yet, it was clear that Angel had romantic feelings for him too andhonestly those two finally getting together would bring the group back to thebalance it had before Morgan panicked inside because of his own feelings.

Unknown tothe two bespectacled boys Angel and Roman were having their own conversation,even if this one was full of more movie references and criticisms.

“Just do asI did with Valerie!”

“There’s noway im gonna make a whole musical number inspired in High school musical toconfess to Morgan. There’s not even going to be a confession”

“Myconfession was a work of art thank you very much”

“You jumpedfrom a three and started singing “What I’ve been looking for” and it wasSharpay’s and Ryan version!”

“It wasepic and beautiful”

“I’m justsurprised it worked”

“Come on,you know Morgan is as big of a Disney fan as we both are, he’s gonna love it”

“Roman,dude, you gotta understand. I’m not confessing”

“But why?”

“… There’sno way he sees me as anything else besides a friend or brother”

“Aww, mychemical imbalance romance. Come here”

Roman gavethe shorter one a one-armed hug and ruffled his hair. He knew Angel worriedabout a lot of things and he honestly couldn’t relate. He had confessed to hisgirlfriend the second he found the perfect song. He didn’t even thought of thepossibility of Valerie rejecting him. But here Angel was, worrying that the boywho was obviously heads over hills for him could possibly reject him

“Do youwish for me to help you?”

“I appreciateit, but there really is no point Sir Sing-a-Lot. I’ll be okay Princey”

“If you aresure… well… we better go find those two nerds, who knows in what problem theymight get if we aren’t there”

Angel nodded,he knew exactly in which type of messes those two could get. It honestly wasn’ttheir fault, Logan was just too upfront and Morgan was too innocent and “dadlike” for his own good. Usually he and Roman had to go save the “damsels indistress” more often than not.

Luckilywhen they reached the other two they were sitting one in front of the otherwith their lunches out. Roman winked at Angel and sat himself besides Logan, immediatelystealing part of the fries the other boy had. Angel sat besides Morgan, smilingat the other and laughing once Logan slapped the top of Roman’s hand. SuddenlyAngel remembered something, and he smiled softly. The group would probablybenefit from it

“Guys”

“Ah?”

“My parentsare gonna be out on an art exposition for like a week, wanna have a sleepover?”

“We canhave a weeklong sleepover?!”

“…I mean,not really? But my house is open for anyone who wants to crush over during theweek”

“Oh… Well,I’m in!”

“Apologiesbut this week I have to work as baby sitter, so I don’t think I could make it”

“I have rehearsal,but if you let me crush on your house during the whole week I’ll wake you upwith pancakes”

“Deal, thenit’s as you guys know, key is on top of the door like always. Leave it thereonce you actually enter the house please. Logan, you are free to crush overwhenever.”

“Thank youvery much”

“No probbob”

“That’snot-”

“Expression”

“Oh, okay”

The secondschool finished Morgan hold on to Angel’s arm, jumping slightly up and downlike an excited puppy. He was going to spend the whole weekend over Angel’shouse and then drop by as often as possible during the week! It was perfect!

“We aregoing to have a full on Disney marathon!”

“You gottago pick up your things tho Morgan”

“…or Icould steal one of your pajamas”

The emo boyblushed, having his crush over in his house with his clothes was going to killhim one day, but he’ll probably die happily. He sighed and nodded, it reallywas impossible to say “no” to Morgan.

Once theyreached Angel’s house and said goodbye to the boy’s parents they settled in fora full marathon. Popcorn was made, pajamas were borrowed and a blanket forthwas build. Morgan had his head in Angels shoulder and was fully absorbed in themovie, so much that he didn’t realized when he took the others hand and startedplaying with Angel’s fingers

“You havepretty hands”

“Your faceis pretty” It was an impulse, to attack others when complimented, but he didn’tmean to say that. “I- I mean-!”

“So you don’tthink my face is… p-pretty?”

Morgan wasstaring at him though his eyelashes, and Angel felt his heart trying to beatitself out of his chest. Ahh, he was doomed wasn’t he? “Fuck it”

“Nope, I thinkyou are beautiful”

Using thehold that Morgan had in his hand he lifted it and kissed the others knuckles.The bespectacled boy giggled and blushed, this was what he wanted. To be ableto be with the boy he loved in a calm atmosphere

“I like youAn”

“And I youMo”