Rebekah and the Powys Prince

by Kate Everson

Rebekah and the Powys Prince

  by Kate Everson

  Copyright 2011 Kate Everson

  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