Poor mad Bran sat at the edge of the well
scratching and pulling at the stones
through days of cold and rain
summers blaze
whispering to himself words of no import
no-one understands this poor mad man
sat with his hound that never leaves his side
the people feeding and warming him when they could
a big man with no mind they said
but he had a smile for the children
and could cure a lame horse with a touch
then scratches at the stone and talk again
at mid summer's eve he stopped talking and listened
On Midsummer's day he was gone
at lughnasadh he was found at the well
freshly healed wounds on him and the brave hound
and a girl-child with no voice to speak
but she could smile and sing of the sea
they took the girl to the great hall
but she came to sit each day at Bran's side
listening and singing to him in the evening
waiting for them to come for her
They came at Imbolc
biting frost days wise women sensed them
creeping slow stained fields defiled by their foulness
the child is what they want
and some would quail and give her up
the women blessed her
set her upon on her horse
asked for it to run it's small heart out
doors crashed, splintered wood
swords and spears flash and jab
evil tries to take her back
but she is gone and evil must follow
hindered by men and their strength
women and their hearts and knives
Bran digs in the stones where he scratches
shouts to his hound "Guide Her back to the sea.."
drags the sword out from the rocks
where he has guarded it all these long years
then waits for evil to come
Iron-clad heavy, black steel and hate
ten spared the chase to bring terror and death
"You will all die..." their eyes flash
Yes, but not here, not today, Bran's smile back..
Gone now leaving scarecrow corpses
nothing evil daring to come past
the wreck of bodies he scattered
armour scales flew like ****** rain as he bites through
to their blackened hearts
then runs to the sea to meet fate and the coming change
he catches them at the strands edge
cold spume driven by the east wind
soaking the wounded dog and the horse collapsed
foam flecked, stricken, and the child who won't leave them
Thundering their hate an onslaught of rage
horses of the sea rise up and drag so many down
but a few keep on, the strongest ones
Bran sees them, He knows there is no hell
but these would take her somewhere worse
so he will stand alone and face their curse
He whispers quietly again to what flies above him
all these patient years they guarded and watched
he was the first to bring the cross to this wild land
but waited till now to show his hand
Swords and strength blood and wounds battling on
until even he is struck down,
Angel guardians silent watch his doom.
Broken spear driven through his chest
but still striving to live and save
The Great Dark One moves in to take the child
sneers, plots to soil and twist her to his will
the last one Bran could just not ****
but She looks up with gentle tears
"What would you have me do"? Asked this
child of the Elder Gods..
" Take me to your realm,
so I may be the darkest of all powers."
"No" says Bran,"With one final embrace,
I take you with me to heaven, with Christ's grace.."
Hugging him tight, Bran's death-spear kills two,
one forgiving one forgiven, as the weapon drives through
And the waves drifts slowly in washing the hurt from
child and beasts, She drifts in the tide ,
horse now beside her playing in new form
guardian of the child of the sea,
who this Man of God She Mourns
But the dog, strong again returns
to sit by the well and remember his master,
the coming of Mad Bran and the dawn
of the Old God's passing.
This is a story in my head I have shrunk down to this size for fun. I will try and do it properly one day, that and a thousand other things I mean to do!
