Notes: The following is my loose retelling of the 14th century alliterative Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the narrative of which was reworked by me under the influence of J.R.R. Tolkien, Lord Dunsany, and G.R.R. Martin in order to make it coherent with another medieval poem of the Gawain cycle, The Marriage of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle, so to fictitiously restore what scholars J.R. Hulbert and Jessie Weston reconstructed to have been the original Gawain narrative, i.e. a Fairy Mistress story.
* * *
“Where are we?” Gawain asked the porter, as the latter escorted him through candlelit corridors and magnificent halls, after they had seen Gringolet was properly fed and taken care of in the large stables.
“This manor, good Sir,” the porter replied, “is called the castle of Uchel Anialwch, and belongs to the stuff of legends.”
“How so?”
“’Tis said none may find it who has never been thereto before, unless their motivation is pure and blameless.”
“I am honoured to hear so.”
“The honour is ours, Sir Gawain, to be able to host such a paragon of valour and virtue.”
“I truly do hope I will not disappoint you.”
“You certainly will not, noble Sir”.
Eventually, they reached what the porter described as the Hall of Thorns, according to him deriving its name from the huge hawthorn tree trunk that had been incorporated in the main wall. From its roots, a high seat had been shaped, upon which a massive nobleman sat smiling, caressing his red beard. Lord Berleddisg did not wait for further introductions upon seeing them enter the hall, but swiftly got up and reached the knight, strongly hugging him.
“Dear Sir, Gawain, how long we have been waiting for your arrival! We had nearly lost hope you would indeed come! Prithee, tell us, what in Our Lord’s name caused your delay?”
Gawain was confused by such a warm welcome, but thought it only polite to reply by declaring himself at their service, although the first thought that came into his mind was that probably they had some dangerous task to assign him, like it had been the case with the people from Ergyng sending him to kill the wyrm.
Lord Berleddisg chuckled, then said: “If you are at my service, good Gawain, then prithee, consider yourself at home, and make use of this castle, and everything herein, and everybody here dwelling, as though you were Lord Berleddisg’s Lord, and thence his most honoured of guests.”
“I am certainly unworthy of such honours, dear Lord, but, provided it was a suitable option and not too much trouble for anyone, I would avail myself of a piece of bread and a sip of wine, a hot bathtub, clean clothes, and your kind permission to attend the Christmas function”.
Actually, after being escorted to his chambers, Gawain was bathed in rose-water by fair handmaids, who thereafter dried him, oiled him, and massaged him, then dressed him up in princely clothes, and served him a meal worthy of a Camelot feast! The knight had little time to ponder the reasons for such a generous treatment before being escorted to the Christmas Mass he had asked to attend: it was such a solemn, inspiring function, and for a moment he felt free from all his troubles, almost as if he had finally found his true home…
It was just a moment of relief, of course, for he immediately recalled his quest as the reason to leave his only true home, Camelot.
“I need to have a word with Lord Berleddisg alone,” Gawain thought.
That evening the whole court of Uchel Anialwch was assembled for a feast in the Hall of Thorns, and Gawain was introduced to the two Ladies of the castle, both of them hiding their faces behind a veil, and lifting it only to honour the knight who kissed their hands. The first of them, introduced as Lady Breifalire, was a loathly crone who must be the most hideous hag Gawain had ever seen. Her prominent, yellow teeth recalled the wyrm’s fangs, her eyes were crooked, even her lips had hair on them, and her complexion suggested sickness. Among a succession of burps, growls, and grunts, all Gawain could get from her was a single word: “Stay.” The contrast between the two Ladies could never be greater when the second one, introduced as Lady Reyniette, wife of Lord Berleddisg, unveiled her face: she was Faebrielle, the Elven Princess of his visions!
Recovering from the initial shock, and trying not to look as astonished as he was, Gawain observed that the Lady introduced to him as Reyniette actually looked almost the same as his Faebrielle, but was undoubtedly human, since her hair was brown as chestnuts, not green like mistletoe, and neither her skin was the colour of grass, but the pale pink of seashells. Besides, he noticed how Lady Reyniette had a visible eye-shaped birthmark on her neck, which was lacking on the Elven Princess. Nonetheless, Gawain thought, hers was still the most beautiful appearance a woman might crave, even fairer than Queen Guinevere, who was reportedly considered to be the fairest of all women.
What did that mean, Gawain wondered. “Am I too late? Did Faebrielle marry Lord Berleddisg? What about the Green Knight?”
Since these questions burnt fiercely inside Gawain’s soul, he finally managed to ask the Lord to speak to him in private, a prospect to which he agreed without second thoughts. They climbed the stairs and entered what seemed to be a private study of Lord Berleddisg.
“How may I assist you, my esteemed guest?” the nobleman inquired.
“You said you were waiting for me. How did you know I was coming, and what is the purpose of my time spent here? For verily I am grateful for your kind welcome, but I am on an urgent quest, with only a week left to find the Green Chapel before New Year’s Day, and no idea where it is…”
Lord Berleddisg offered Gawain a cup of red wine, and said: “Cheers to you, Sir Gawain, for you have almost completed your quest! Indeed, I have the honour to be the one who informs you that you have found the Green Chapel, as it stands less than ten miles from here. On New Year’s Day, I swear, I will have one of my men show you the way to get there. All I am asking of you in exchange is the pleasure to have you as our guest until then, for truly it is rare to have such a revered champion at one’s court.”
Although still wary, Gawain accepted the offer, and the host added: “By the way, to answer your other question, Merlin the Wizard visited us during last Spring. He was after a mirror of sorts, I think. But certainly I recall that he prophesied you would come, and we have been waiting for you since then. In fact, after Christmas we will play a little game, am I right? What might be better than a festive courtly amusement in order to fully enjoy these holidays?”
“You are indeed right, Lord Berleddisg. Surely I will play. Nothing might ever be better than that,” was Gawain’s reply, trying to sound as convincing as he could. Admitting he could trust his host, he had been reassured that he would be able to honour his agreement with the Green Knight. Nonetheless, if his beloved Faebrielle actually was the Lady downstairs, married to the same host, what was even the point in going to the Green Chapel at all?
During the next three days, Gawain took part in all the celebrations at Uchel Anialwch, attending Mass also on the days of Saint Stephen, of Saint John the Evangelist, and of the Feast of the Holy Innocents. He ate and drank as expected at court on these days, neither exceeding nor disappointing expectations, and even sang and danced after the tune of many joyful carols being played by minstrels and bards. As he was invited to dance by Lady Reyniette, who had not been wearing the veil ever since, he could not refuse, and started amiably chatting with her, who seemed to be teasing him, however she did not give away any decisive clue whether she was the Elven Princess or not. Having danced with Lady Reyniette, Gawain was forced to also dance with the equally unveiled Lady Breifalire, who looked even uglier than earlier, if possible. After they had finished, she uttered another word: “Kiss.” As the other time before, he gallantly kissed her hand and took his leave.
That evening, Lord Berleddisg summoned Gawain to his study again. As he entered the chamber, he saw his host standing before the fireplace, sipping red wine from a cup. Berleddisg offered Gawain another cup, and, after a toast, he explained: “I saw your collection of trophies. Very impressive, I have to admit. If I invited you to join my hunt, there would be no game for me. For, you see, I am ashamed to confess it before the Master of all hunters, such as you undoubtedly are, but I am a hunter myself. So, I came up with another idea. Thoughts?”
Gawain was embarrassed. “You greatly overestimate me, Lord Berleddisg.”
“I seriously doubt it. But hear my proposal: I will go hunting for three days, and you will stay here in the castle, with everything and everybody at your complete disposal. Then each day, at dinner, we will meet up, tell each other about our day, and exchange our winnings. Isn’t it fun? What do you say?”
Gawain was puzzled by the weird agreement proposed, but could not see any harm in it, so he said: “I told you I would play, so I stand by my word.”
“Great. Have a good night of sleep, Sir, then let our game begin!”
The next morning, to Gawain’s surprise, he was woken up by the sound of someone intruding into his room. His amazement was even greater when he realized the identity of the intruder: it was none other than the Lady Reyniette, the same woman who shared almost every detail of her appearance with his Elven love!
For the time being, he thought of nothing better than pretending to be still sleeping, so that he could at least ascertain her intent. However, if he still meant to pretend she had no ill in mind, when she sat on his bed and started caressing his hair and face, he had no choice but waking up.
“Good morning, Sir Gawain,” she said, endearingly.
For a moment he actually thought of ignoring his suspicions she might not be Faebrielle, ignoring the fact that the Lady in front of him was his host’s wife, and ignoring the absurd bargain he had made with him, just to surrender to the irresistible lure of that gorgeous woman in her nightgown and make love with her until his breath was taken away… Her eyes might not be pink like the Elven maiden’s, but he could still see the flickering light of desire lit within them, as she contemplated every inch of his body as a lioness might scan her prey. Her cheeks might not turn orange as she blushed, but he was not entirely sure her shamelessness was a flaw. Her skin was not like an unripe lemon, but he still wished to taste its flavour. Her curves were not that slender, but the sinuous roundness of her plump breasts was a feast for the eyes and, unless he managed to control himself, would soon be such for his hands and lips too.
“What an unexpected pleasure to find you here, Milady. How may your faithful knight serve you?”
She laughed. “I would like the heroic, courteous Gawain, to teach me everything he knows about love.”
Gawain swallowed. “I am sorry, but I have nothing to teach you. I know nothing about love.”
“Oh, dear Sir! Then why do all women love you?”
“Are you sure they do? And, even so, shouldn’t you rather ask them?”
“I am one of them, and I think it is because you are always kind and gentle.”
“I am obliged, Milady.”
“Then will the kind, gentle knight not teach me how to love?” she asked, revealing even more bosom than earlier, and provokingly blinking.
“Of course”, he replied, choking from the pressure. “I can teach you that the highest form of love is love unrequited, because the person who thus loves is a benefactor who gives oneself to another person without expecting anything in return, not even the acceptance of the gift.”
She looked disappointed. “Such a harsh, demeaning lesson. But I will take it if you grant me but the small benefit of a kiss.”
“Of course”.
When Lord Berleddisg returned from his hunting, he brought Gawain a stag, and received a kiss on his lips instead. The host laughed, and commanded dinner be served. That night the hideous Lady approached Gawain, still sitting at the table, and told him: “Kiss kiss,” before leaving. Gawain shuddered, wondering if the old hag was also demented, besides ugly. When it was time, Gawain saluted the Lord and the young Lady and went to bed, only to be woken up in the morning once more by the latter getting into his chamber. This time he did not pretend to be sleeping, but bid her a good morning.
“A proper good morning is such only if accompanied by a kiss,” she said, and he was taken aback by her audacity, as she jumped on the bed and tongue-kissed him, before he could say anything. Gawain had to fight all his very instincts, but somehow managed to stay still and display coldness even when a mirror image of his love lay upon him, pressing her tongue throughout his mouth.
“Do you have another woman, Gawain?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because we should be making love now!”
“Are you Faebrielle?”
“In case it helps, yes!”
He was shocked, but then she coldly added: “You can call me Arthur, for all I care.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Milady.”
“I’m not disappointed by you. I thought I was beautiful…”
“I can tell you there is nobody on Earth as beautiful as you, not even Queen Guinevere.”
“Then how can you reject me?”
“Because I love somebody who does not live on this Earth…”
“…I see. I did hear there were knights who were also monks…”
Gawain sighed. “Blessed be them, I’m not one of them either.”
She laughed. “Then you won’t deny me one other kiss before I leave.”
“I won’t”, Gawain conceded. What he had not expected was that this time, as they kissed, he had for a moment the exact impression he was kissing his Faebrielle instead of her likeness, as he could see her all green, and even the birthmark was gone. This time, even more than the day before, as she left the room it was he who was left there, craving for more…
In the evening, at dinner, Gawain gave Lord Berleddisg two kisses, receiving a boar in return. The host looked pleased, but Gawain could not abstain from thinking that the Lord could only smile because unaware whose kisses Gawain was returning to him… Even as he thought so, Lady Breifalire whispered to his ear: “Gift,” then went away. What did she mean? Did she mean anything at all? However, that night Gawain went to bed thinking that, at this point, he should do all that was in his power to resist his passions for the third day as well, then he would just have to see what the Green Knight had in store for him, and the whole thing would be over, for better or worse.
In his sleep, Gawain dreamt that he and Faebrielle were married, and they were going to make love on their first night as a married couple. She was already naked, and was undressing him too, when he felt something was wrong. As he woke up, he had to realize this time Reyniette had gotten into his room without waking him up, had undressed herself, and was trying to make love with him in his sleep. How gorgeous her naked body was in the halflight… But he immediately detached from her, and told her to get dressed.
“Only with a kiss,” she said, and he consented.
Again, for a moment she was Faebrielle… but he drew back, and she hugged him and kissed him once more. Gawain prayed Our Lady to keep his control, and managed to communicate coldness also physically. Only when she felt that detachment in him, she backed off and got dressed again. Her hair was brown, her skin was white, but this time her garment was green.
“Will you at least remember me?”
“I could hardly forget you if I wished to, which I don’t…” he declared.
“Take this as a token of my love,” she said, offering him a golden ring wherein a diamond was set.
“I could never accept so rich a treasure,” he pointed out.
“Will you then leave me something yours?”
“I only bear tools of war, unfit for a Lady…”
Reyniette then unlaced her green girdle and said: “Take this green sash. Whoever bears it cannot be killed”.
Gawain was interested: “Are you sure?”
“Of course. But I want another kiss”.
In the afternoon, Gawain went to the castle church and confessed himself. This time, he had gone way beyond lustful thoughts, having come within inches of making love with a married woman, with whom he had played a game of teasing and flirting akin to fornication, not to mention all their kisses. Besides, he certainly was not going to return his wife’s girdle to Lord Berleddisg that evening, thus proving himself a coward and unworthy. However, the priest surprisingly absolved him of all his sins, saying they were venial, or even not sins at all. “The rules of a courtly game are not the same as God’s Law. Fear is no sin at all, and even can be a virtue when it is fear of the Lord Almighty. So, you can do as you wish with the sash. Moreover, I think most men, and even some clergy, succumb completely to way lesser temptations of the flesh, and you did not. I would truly say Our Lady blesses you. Go in peace”, the priest told Gawain, partly reminding him of Father Poc, back in Camelot. So, on his last evening at Uchel Anialwch, Gawain exchanged three kisses with a fox, and kept a green girdle. Lady Reyniette was nowhere to be seen, while the old crone, Breifalire, this time did not say anything, but she flaunted a smile which almost made her look less ugly.