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The Sword of Mordred: Part VII
- The Sword of Mordred: Part VII -
She was a priestess of the ancient gods of the land... and for all of her young life she had dwelt in the domains of the north, though she was a child of old Lyonesse, which was ancient when all of the other lands of Ynys Prydain were in the infancy of their civilization. Her name was Gwendoline, and she was of the blood of the kings and queens of Lyonesse. I chanced to meet her, on an occasion when my father Arthur had wished me to journey unto that land in order to deliver an offering of small statuettes which had been crafted by Merlin and other notable druids in the likeness of the ancient gods themselves. For oft was it known that Lyonesse was a sacred place... it was there that I first met my beloved Kundry, but it was also there where I had committed my greatest sin, in causing the demise of the young girl who so had been revered as the living Holy Grail. I knew, that my return to that land would be filled with many emotions, both good and horrid, but even so I got the sense that such a journey would help me to ease a great deal of my own troubled thoughts. I did not dress for battle, but for comfort, although as always I did bring my sword Albion with me... for still were the roads long and sometimes frequented by lawless folk who seemed to seek ever to undo the peace of Arthur's kingdom, which was causing the country to become more united with each of his victories. It had been one year since the death of Arthur's wife, the great warrior queen Gwenhyver, and still did he mourn her quite bitterly. He took to wine in the hope of drowning his pain therein, but it only seemed to cause him to act bitter himself, and angry as well. I did not recognize my father when he drank like that, and I tended to avoid him at court when he behaved in such a way. The queen had been the rock upon which his goodness seemed to have been built, and very many in Camelot were fearful that the loss of her might one day cause him to descend into tyranny and wrathful behavior rather than the righteous goodness that most folk knew him, and loved him, for. I did decide to make the journey to Lyonesse alone, since it was a simple delivery task which I hoped to see concluded quickly, so that I might return to my home in the Golden Woods over which I ruled as a lord. I wore a long, elegant looking scarlet red gown with long, wide sleeves... which was belted at the waist with a golden sash. I did strap the sheath of my sword across my back, and there did I keep the weapon so that I could still draw the blade easily if the need for it arose. It was springtime... and so I wore upon my feet a pair of sandals. I decided not to wear any jewelry on this occasion, since that would make me less of a tempting target for bandits or robbers. I kept my money pouch in the saddlebags of my horse, and the sack containing the statuettes was strapped to the saddle firmly. The day on which I rode forth was a beautiful one, with fortunately no trace of wind or rain about the air and sky. The sun was out in full, and so was the day also a warm one as well as beautiful. I did not make too much haste, for it was not a mission of great urgency that I was upon, and I did not wish to tax my horse too greatly. As ever, I did stop at the inns to sleep when it was nighttime, and on the morrow I resumed my journey. I took the eastern border of Lyonesse, for that route was well known to me and one that I was familiar with. As it had been before, the guards at the border were polite and helpful... they recognized me from when I did come by that border before, and thus they did not stop me to ask any questions. They merely smiled as I rode by them... and resumed their patrol. I did happen to call out for a moment as I passed to ask which was the direction for the sacred grove which was known as Rhiannon's Weald, which was where I was bound, and they pointed me in the right direction. I thanked them for their assistance, and rode forth in the direction that they had described unto me, keeping an eye for the landmarks that lay along that way. It was strange to be back here after so long, and venturing into a part of Lyonesse where I had not ever been to before. There was so much to this part of the land, and a great deal of it was mysterious to me. The ways of the many peoples who did dwell in Lyonesse could be strange to outsiders at times, for it was a melting pot of sorts wherein ancient ways met with newer ones and many faiths were adhered to. One could get quite lost in such a place, and I had no desire to become lost. Ere long, I did spot in the distance the forest in which Rhiannon's Weald was supped to be. It was a forest... like most any other.
Tall pines, stout oaks, and smaller tress than they, with wildflowers and grass amid the underbrush... though there were clear man made trails to follow, rather than wild animal trails and the like, and this did make it easy enough to tell where I was supposed to be going. I loved the sacred groves and I was a firm adherent to the old ways of the Pagan gods... and goddesses... of my ancestors. And although I was a man, I also enjoyed sometimes dressing in the clothing of women, for I had a certain beauty to me as made it so that when I did so... people always took me to be a female rather than a male. I liked how it made me feel beautiful when that happened, and sometimes that caused me to blush a bit. I looked very different from other men, too! My skin... like that of my aunt Morgan... was chalk white, like that of an albino, and my eyes were grayish blue in color. I had but recently taken to shaving my head and also my eyebrows, because I noticed that my hair was beginning to thin as I was getting older, and I was starting to lose it rather quickly. I did not like how my hair loss affected my ability to keep looking feminine in those times when I desired to, and so it was something I took to doing in order to maintain my beauty... and not something I did because I simply wished to. The first time I had shaved my head and eyebrows, Kundry actually asked me why I did it, and I explained to her: “Beloved... there is something that most women realize, and I think some men understand this too. And it is quite a simple thing, really! Whilst a woman can look quite beautiful without any hair upon her head at all... neither a woman or a man will ever look their best if their hair is falling out. As for my eyebrows, it has become easier for me to shave them than to keep them plucked, since plucking out the hairs is a great deal more painful... and, as I am getting older, I find that I am becoming a good deal less tolerant of such pains.” She understood what I was explaining to her, and got used to my new appearance quickly enough. Sometimes, she did call me her husband... sometimes, she called me her wife. She knew that I did not truly have a fixed identity as regarded my gender... and that I enjoyed being able to present myself as whichever it pleased me to. As ever my moods took me. Most of my fellow knights accepted that I was simply different from them... I found a great deal of acceptance among them, and only a few of the lot who did not seem to quite truly comprehend why I had decided to live this way seemed to be openly hostile towards me because of this. I knew which knights I should avoid, both in court and otherwise, and I kept well away from them in as much as I possibly could. Their fear of my sword kept them from ever seeking to do my any harm, and I noticed that those particular knights were always the ones who claimed to be the most faithful to Christ. From all I understood of their Jesus the Christ, he never preached hatred for anyone, but instead spoke of love, tolerance, and understanding for all. Without exception! It was ironic that although I was Pagan and proud... still did I understand the true teachings of Christ better than they who followed him with so much hateful zeal in their hearts and minds. Upon a lighter note, my father loved me anyway no matter how I presented myself... and my old beloved paramour, the first man whom I had ever loved, the king's own greatest champion, Llwch Lleminawg, did often seek out more private moments in which we could indulge in a lover's tryst. More so when I was in the guise of a woman... than that of a man. “You are so very beautiful, Mordred! You were always beautiful to me.” he whispered one night, when we did make love together, after leading me away from the king's court for some time alone in his chambers. We did oft go for walks together in the gardens that once were the favorite place of the queen herself, and I was happy to see that Llwch did not care if some of his fellow knights mocked him for loving and doting on me the way that he did. We shared secrets with each other also, and memories of past lives that both of us discovered that we recalled quite strongly. When I had been Balor, the king of the Fomorians during the days when still the Tuatha de Danann did dwell openly in Ireland... Llwch had been my son Lugh. It was hard to imagine... for in that life, he became my bitterest enemy and had even been the cause of my death. But now he was one of my dearest loves, and we agreed that it was good that much had changed for us in the life which we lived currently. He even confessed unto me: “If I were king over Camelot, I would make you my queen... and name you Mordra. For, you are growing ever more fair, to my eyes!”
I told him that was already happily married, and he admitted that he had forgotten that I was. He then stated: “Then I would adopt you as my daughter, and name you princess! Your wife would also be thus a princess, and together you two would inherit the throne upon my passing.” He was actually, literally, old enough to be my father. He was around Arthur's age, and it always surprised me that he had become so smitten with me over the years due to the vast difference in our ages. But then I remembered that it was now different between Kundry and I... for although I was old enough to be her parent, even so I felt a burning passion for her that sometimes felt as if it might consume me whole. I sensed that kind of hot, mad passion within Llwch's heart for me... and, it made me wish to be a woman even more, seeing how his eyes looked upon me so hungrily and devotedly. Perhaps the greatest honor he ever did me was the day when he called me his “Pale Gwenhyver”, and told me that: “Though you do not look like her, you have within you a great deal of the same spirit that made the queen such a great woman! I loved her, as you know... as I have confessed unto you before... but now, there are times when I feel that same kind of feeling with you, that I felt when I was with her. When I am not around you, I long for you! And in the late hours of the night... in those nights when we are not trysting together... I call out for you, and I have dreams in which you and she seem to mix and combine into a single person. Sometimes, you are my Mordra... sometimes you are Gwenhyver... but always it is your pale face that I see no matter what body that face is upon. If this be madness growing within me, than I am happy to be mad!” This, was how my face looked when he gazed upon it... I had high cheekbones, an aquiline nose that was regal but not overly long. I had small lips which I took to anointing with that era's equivalent to red lipstick. My face was round, my ears rather tapered, and I found myself smiling quite a bit more than I used to. As for my body, I had delicate skin which was as soft as a maiden's. My bones were slender, my fingers so those of an artist rather than a warrior. I was very fey and Elvish in appearance, and when I chose to be a woman I resembled my aunt very strongly. Some began to say that I had cast a spell of enchantment upon the king's champion and that I had bound him thus unto my will... but they did not understand. He was simply falling so deeply in love with me, that no longer could he... or would he... keep it a secret. It had been he who saw me off when I departed for Lyonesse to deliver those statuettes... and thus, it had been his loving, kindly face that was oft firmly fixed in my mind as I rode along. I thought of him, and I thought of Kundry, and I was happy to have been blessed with two who loved me with the same depth and warmth. I wondered what my aunt would think to see me now... I knew that she would likewise be understanding of my choice to live this way more and more frequently. And when I thought of her, I did wonder whatever became of her when she left to dwell with the sisterhood of Avalon. I wondered... had she truly been the one who had driven my brother Gaheris to murder our mother? Unless one day, I had a chance to speak with her, I would never learn the truth of that matter. For now I concentrated upon the business at hand, as I lost myself for a bit in the beauty of the woodlands all about me. I was looking as my very best, my most feminine, upon that day... and it felt good to be that way. Was this my true self, after all? And why had thus seemed to begin so much more strongly following the queen's death! I had no answers to such questions, but there were times when I wondered if I was not somehow possessed in some way by the spirit of the deceased queen. Her memories sometimes came into my mind unbidden... and I remembered that one of her titles was “The White Queen”. If she did live on somehow within me, then she was white in flesh as much as in the purity of her goodly spirit. “Mordra.” I said aloud... letting the sound of the name which my handsome paramour had given me roll off of my tongue for a bit. I did like it a great deal! It suited me far better than either Mordred... or Gwenhyver. And that was when it so occurred to me, that I was simply Mordred no longer. There were two souls within my body, and now I did know for certainty that one of them was the soul of the queen herself. “No man, shall ever harm me again!” I heard her thoughts thinking, within my mind. I laid my hand upon the hilt of my sword, and I smiled. Albion would protect me. Arthur had never truly understood me as a wife anyway! Never fully.
The queen was dead, and yet she lived on within me. I needed to speak to a druid, in order to ask how such a thing had even been possible. I needed to know why I... she... was slowly becoming increasingly the dominant spirit within my body. My new body? Gods! This was frustrating. I needed to hurry, to go unto that sacred grove with all speed... there would be wise druids there, and they had to be willing and able to assist their queen. No, for I was the queen no longer! I was also Mordra, who had been Mordred. I needed to get my new identity together, lest the circumstances of this strange resurrection drive me to madness. The grove called Rhiannon's Weald was beyond beautiful! As I raced towards it, I did thereon slow my steed to a reasonable pace once more so that I could take it all in. The oaks of that grove were mighty and towering... and there were garlands of pale white flowers decorated all the branches of those trees. Ribbons were tied around certain branches as well, and chimes were hung from many of them. As the gentle breeze that seemed to be about the grove in that hour blew, the chimes played music that I so found to be remarkably beautiful. Flowers filled the meadow in the middle of the grove, and sunlight of the most beautiful golden hues did shine through the treetops and reach that meadow. Many tall idols of crude stonework did decorate that meadow about the edges of it nearest to the trees. The druids who so tended that grove were there in full, men and woman some of whom wore robes of brown like unto that of monks... and some of whom wore robes of white. They were of many ages, those druids, and it was I thought quite certain that at least one of them could help me with my rather unusual problem. I got off of my horse and took from it the sack which contained the statuettes that I was to give into the keeping of the head druid of the grove. I approached a young woman who was among the druids, and thought to ask her which of the druids was the leader. She was wearing a long white gown that was almost as full and flowing as my own, and about her waist she wore a golden girdle. She had a crown of flowers upon her head, and her hair was pale blonde in color with golden highlights, and extremely curly. She wore it long, her hair, and it did fall to at the very least her upper thighs. She had a rather round face, somewhat broad features, and large full lips. Her skin was somewhat dusky, but not dark, and her eyes were likely the deepest, darkest shade of blue that I had ever seen before. Her face was heavily freckled... and such was her appearance that there was something foreign and exotic about it. She was a large boned young woman, a little heavy set, but not overweight. She was a big girl, but not a fat girl in the least. Rather... she looked strong and hard working, and was not at all what I expected from a daughter of noble blood. That was how I came to meet with Gwendoline, heir to the noble lineage of the kings and queens of old Lyonesse. I did introduce myself to her somewhat awkwardly as I approached her, saying: “Greetings to you... young maiden! My name is... Gwen... oops, rather I mean to say my name is Mordra. Daughter of Arthur who is the High King over all the lands of Ynys Prydain. I have come to deliver these sacred and blessed statuettes unto the head of the druids whose order it is that tends this grove. Might I know, if it be that you know it, which of their lot is he or she?” She smiled and saw that I was nervous and rather a bit fidgety as I spoke to her. She then said in a voice that had a peculiar accent to it which I simply had no means of placing: “Wait a moment, Mordra! You almost said your name was Gwen, before it was as you seemed to catch yourself there. I am quite keen when it comes to observing people, and noticed that it appears you are quite upset over something. Now when one is both so visibly upset and trying to keep their real name a secret... that usually means trouble, and we do not want any trouble in our grove. Also it is known to us that Arthur has a son named Mordred... he has no daughter. And you appear to be, in truth, a woman! Thus, you are clearly not who you claim to be. Can you explain that to me first? Then, I would be happy to show you to the head of this grove.” I then explained to her that I was Mordred in the past, and proceeded to tell her in detail and at great length everything that led to me deciding to be now living as a woman and calling myself Mordra. I also told her that I had within me, the soul of the High Queen herself, and that it was causing me to confuse my very own identity at times. I confessed, that I was looking to speak with a druid who had knowledge of such things, in order to understand this.
The girl's eyes widened, and she appeared visibly shocked. She was at most about sixteen years old... and had likely never before in her life heard of such a thing, as I had just said unto her. She cleared her throat and then said unto me after hearing my story: “Sometimes, when a person dies a horrible enough death, their soul and spirit cannot enter into the other world in order to await their proper rebirth into a newly born body. Sometimes they linger about the place where they died, but if that place traumatized them too much, they will seek out a place wherein a kindred spirit might be found. They will try at the first to communicate with that person whom they sought out, but failing that... they might attempt some kind of possession. Then, if they like the body well enough, they might bond with the soul and spirit of the one whose body that have come to dwell within... and the two then become one soul and spirit. Two no longer, for when that happens their memories merge together and they become one in every sense of such a thing. If all that you have told me is truthful, my lady... for it is indeed a lady I see before me... it is thus that the High Queen lives again through you. Henceforth, you will in the years to come recall all of her life, from her childhood unto her death. You will keep and retain all of your own memories, but with hers added to them... on looking back at this life, you will have two sets of memories therefore. It will be strange to you to notice this, but because you were actually two people once... both of you, who are now one, will understand which memories are which, and my best advice would be to seek balance between who you both once were and the combined person whom you are now. There is no way to end this for you, it is not like a standard case of possession. This is a bonding, a uniting, of two traumatized individuals who are both suffering for their own reasons. I would ask only this, if I were you! What is it that traumatized you to the point where she saw in you a kindred spirit to begin with?” I knew, at once, what it was which had most tormented me, and which tormented me still. I confessed to the girl all that I had done which brought about the death of she who had been the Holy Grail. I knew it was a bad idea to tell anyone about it, but I had to tell this girl the truth I realized... she had to know what disturbed me so greatly. She said unto me: “You were hesitant to confess this to me, I sensed, but fear not! We druids are the judges of the guilty in every royal court in the land... and I have decided that it is not my place to judge you for that crime which you committed. You just told me how much that memory pains you, and how much you wish that you could go back and change what took place so that it might never happen... that is not the thinking of a criminal, but of a tormented soul who is truly remorseful. You are therefore, a penitent spirit in search of redemption. You have sinned, but you have sworn to sin no more! That, is the first step towards even the blackest soul's redemption. And, now... with the High Queen herself thus finding new life within you, if I were to order your death for the crime of unholy sacrilege, then I would be condemning her to die a second time along with you. That would be regicide, would it not? So now, it means that I must pretend that you never told me what you did. You never made that confession! It is as if the deed had never been done by your hands. I am the head of the druids of this grove. My name is Gwendoline, and I am in truth of the royal lineage of the rulers of Lyonesse. I know that I not only look like a common girl, but also in all likelihood appear to your eyes to be far too young to serve as leader of this order of druids... but as the crown princess of Lyonesse, it is my duty to hold that position. For, every princess... later queen... of Lyonesse who has ever been born into the lineage of my family, has by tradition always been also the chief of all the druids of our fair kingdom. I have met with and spoken to your own chief druid, Merlin, and I know also they who govern the sisterhood of Avalon. Thus it is as when I pledge to keep your confession unto me a secret, then you know by my oath of honor that this is something that I intend to take to the grave with me. What you need to do in life, is decide who it is that you truly are now! Mordred, son of Arthur... Gwenhyver, daughter of Leodegrance... or Mordra, who is both of them? But that is something only you can decide. Now then! You said you have some statuettes for me, I think. Here, let me have a look at them! I will say this for you... at least your are punctual.” I gave her the sack containing the statuettes, and she and I chatted on about minor things for a long time.
She was pleasant, kind, understanding, and rather sweet. On her insistence, I remained with her at the grove in order to rediscover myself and try to understand the person whom I now was. She taught me a great many new ways to meditate and in order to calm me and ease me in my moments of torment... for even in that peaceful place, those moments sometimes came unto me... she did practice with me a bit of sexual related magics, for I told her that I felt at my most blissful when in the throes of sexual ecstasy. I had relations in the past with prostitutes who provided sexual gratification for coin... but what this was, that Gwendoline and I did together, was something far more spiritual and pure. She was clearly not, as I had at first thought, a maiden... she was skilled, and experienced, in the arts of lovemaking. One of our sessions involved us sitting across from each other, but within touching distance. We both donned soft, delicate white sleeveless gowns for this occasion, and we just stared at each other. She said unto me as follows: “When you stare at me like that... does it bring you peace?” and, I said to her: “There is about you something profoundly peaceful... it makes me feel that same peace within myself.” She then replied unto what I had said, stating: “Then I want you to look over my entire body from my face to my breasts, to between my legs. Here, I will even make it easier for you!” and she then spread her legs widely, and arched her back in a seductive way, licking her lips in a manner that I found enticing. She did shake her hair a bit and I saw that her breasts jiggled when she did that. I found her to be quite arousing just then, and realized I had found her arousing since first my eyes had fallen upon her. She noticed as she looked between my legs how erect my manhood was becoming, and she said unto me: “I want you to keep on... looking at me, with that hungry look in your eyes that you have right now. I want you to to show me but without touching me just yet, how much peace it is that you find when looking upon me.” She then did begin to sing in a soft voice... how had I only just then noticed how soft her voice was?... and I looked at the shape of her breasts through the fabric of her gown, the way her nipples looked through it as well. I looked between her legs, to where the cleft of her womanhood was... and how her gown clung to that part of her body in such a way that I could see the shape of it, the mound of her femininity, and I found it much to my liking. I had to do something to show her what I was feeling for her... and I asked her if we could remove our gowns. She explained: “No, for this session we must leave our gowns on! That is a part of the challenge, here, for you... to choose how to express, what I have instructed you to express. But without being able to see me naked or be naked yourself.” She then got back to singing, and I saw that she was staring deeply into my eyes... I was lost in hers... and began once more to look over all of her charms as best as I could see them through her gown. We were both naked underneath these gowns, and I was so very hard for her that I knew what had to be done. I began to stroke my manhood, through the fabric of the gown that I was wearing... it felt good wrapped in that soft silk-like fabric... and soon it was that I felt the wetness of my arousal upon my hand. I masturbated to Gwendoline, and she smiled... almost serenely... as she watched me do this. I did stroke myself faster and faster, whilst the girl licked her lips and said seductively: “Oh, very, very good! Keep it up, just like that... very nice. Don't stop... I want to see how much peace you can achieve when gazing upon me like you are.” My eyes were pretty much devouring her at that point, and I could not stop... I continued to masturbate until I did orgasm in climax quite fully, soaking my gown with the issue of my self pleasure. “Oh, Gwendoline! You are so very beautiful... so very sublime, my goddess.” I called out... unable to contain how I felt about her, any longer. I laid back after that, staring up at the sky above the sacred grove's meadow. We were sitting on blankets, and so it was quite soft when I did lay back after that passionate exertion. She crawled over to me and I felt her lifting up my gown. She began to lick my manhood, and suck upon it... swallowing all of my issue and continuing to suck upon me until I was clean. This caused me to orgasm a second time, far more intensely, into her mouth, since I had apparently not been fully finished doing so before. That too she swallowed, and after that she smiled and said: “I am happy that I can bring you peace! And you can see now, that self pleasure can be more than sexual gratification... let me tell you, deeper secrets.”
She explained unto me, after laying down next to me and caressing my chest in a way that was almost as if she was indicating that I was hers, and hers alone: “It can be a means of releasing tension, it can be a tool to aid in reaching a transcendent, ecstatic state of mind and body, it an be a means of creative self expression, and it can be also... at its' very simplest... a quick and easy gateway to temporary bliss. But, if you do it with someone you like, or love, a great deal... then it can become something more. Just like the difference between a casual tryst, and lovemaking. After you've rested for a bit, we will get you all cleaned up, and then in a few hours or so... we can make love together and see what peace I may be able to bring you with your nice, hard cock inside of me. Would you like that?” She was not talking to me in that last part as my instructor or teacher... there was something of raw desire in her words. I smiled and said unto her: “I would very much like that indeed, my princess!” The goal she claimed for that night's coupling, was to try and get my sexual thinking to be in balance so that the male and female aspects of my soul and spirit could become more harmoniously unified than ever before. She waited until I was in the very act of thrusting in and out of her, my body heaving atop hers as I took her passionately in love, and thence did she say unto me in a low, seductive tone of voice: “Yes! You claim me as a man claims his dearest love... but whilst you are doing so, I want you to tray a little experiment. Imagine that you in fact as me... and that I am you. Imagine me thrusting in and out of you, and you laying upon your back with your legs spread like mine are right now. Does that thought excite you?” It excited me greatly, for it made me think back to the trysts I had with Llwch Lleminawg... how I would lick and suck his cock, playing the harlot upon my knees for him, only to later on lay with my legs spread open so that he could lick and suck upon my manhood in turn, stroking it as he did so, until I found sweet release thereby. He would kiss me all over every inch of my body, caressing me as he did so, telling me how beautiful I was in his eyes. Then, suddenly, my mind flashed over to the memories that Gwenhyver had of her own hot, passionate trysts with Llwch... and, I was her in all of those intense memories, remembering the manner in which he and I made love and how he always called me his “Gwen”. But that series of memories was intruded upon by the savage sexual manner in which I... she... had met her end. I did not want to look in those memories at the faces of the two men who had raped and tortured me over and over again. And... then there was that third man, the messenger they hired, who also raped me. I began to cry, and I began to scream! I cried out for help, and then snapped out of those memories entirely. I had lost the mood for any kind of sexual activity as I began to cry... and had to pull out of Gwendoline fully because of that. I sat curled up, weeping, and saying: “They violated me, those three bastards! They took everything from me... everything... even my life at the last of it.” and the princess then wrapped her arms around me and whispered into my ear: “I am very pleased to meet you at last, High Queen Gwenhyver. You too need to achieve peace! Try to forget the horrors of what happened at the end of your life... and try to focus once again on more pleasant, pleasurable memories. You need to be able to make love again, my queen... or, forever shall the trauma of your death hold you back from knowing bliss once more.” I was Gwenhyver fully in that moment, and only her... only me... and I did speak, but my voice was speaking in precisely the same tone that I had so often spoken in when I was the High Queen. It was much softer a tone than Mordred typically favored... although his voice was far softer and sweeter than any other man's I had in my life heard. My voice was soft, but commanding at times, although this was not a time for behaving in an imperious manner. I was a warrior queen once... and I intended to be one once again. Not a victim but a champion among women! I told all of this to Gwendoline... and, my mannerisms were my own. I did not use any masculine mannerisms or expressions, or anything else. I was a woman, a queen, and it was good to be alive once again... whole and not violated... strong enough despite that this body was a bit weaker physically then my previous one had been. I knew what lay between my legs was the organ of a man, but what beat within my breast was the heart of a woman. Mordred did not know... but once I took possession of his body, I noticed something unusual. He was actually hermaphroditic. Part female.
Something bizarre... had occurred when he was still in his mother's womb, something that caused his fetus to become of two genders rather than simply only one. His aunt Morgan knew... she had told him, I saw within his memories, that she was there when he was born. She had to have known! She was not wholly mortal, after all, she was the incarnation of Death herself. The Morrigan, as the ancients called her. That same goddess who also was the embodiment of rebirth as well as death. And Mordred was an ancient soul, one that had lived countless lives past, and who had previous incarnations beyond any and all reasonable ability to count the number thereof. Whatever were the circumstances of Mordred's birth, it was certain that The Morrgian had a hand in shaping his current incarnation. She knew, and she never told him the truth. He possesses fully functioning male genitalia... but has wider hips than men typically do, small breasts that he tries to downplay by wearing clothing that keeps them appearing flatter and a lot more masculine in shape than they actually are. And, his abdomen in somewhat bigger than that of a man. But in addition to all of that... he is also entirely infertile. He can pleasure a woman, but he cannot ever father a child. He also has all of a woman's emotions, and all of a man's capacity for passion, and for anger. He is of an ancient and partially inhuman bloodline. He is not what he was led to believe he was, for the entirety of his life. And now... I had to let him know! I told Gwendoline everything that I had observed regarding my new body... Mordred's body... and then I retreated back into myself, into his mind, which was now mine as well, in order to show him everything that I had noticed about him, and so learned of his birth thereby. I had access to all of his memories, and he had access to all of mine. It was time we truly became one at long last! Even if it costed us both our individuality... we would, if so it was required, create a new identity for ourselves. A new self, to replace our wounded halves. Thus it was that Gwenhyver made me aware of the truth of my physical body and the things regarding my birth that my aunt Morgan never wished for me to learn. Did she truly think it would torment me so much to be told that I was as much female as I was male? Then again, she grew up in her current incarnation as a woman surrounded by countless men whose masculinity was toxic in the extreme... if any of them so had been told such a thing it probably would have driven them mad. She could not know the sort that I would grow up to become... she could not risk hurting me in any way, for she cared for me and wanted only that I be safe from any and all harm. Even harm that I might possibly do to myself. But I did not at the last mind the knowledge that now I was presented with! If anything, it validated for me all of what I had long thought and felt regarding myself... and I knew at last why it always felt good when people did find me beautiful and think me to be a woman. I was a woman... and a man. I was still myself, but now I was also Gwenhyver in such a way that I needed to forge a new identity for myself... so that like unto the phoenix I could rise from the ashes of the past in order to create a brighter future for myself. I then did speak unto Gwendoline and I revealed everything unto her that now understood. She said unto me in a sweet tone of voice: “You are both one now! There is only one, no longer two. But what name do you wish to go by? You need to express yourself through your name, after all.” I thought deeply on it, and knew what my heart longed for me to choose for my name. I told her: “My name henceforth shall be Mordra, and only Mordra. Thus was I named by one whom I love, one whom I have always loved... and who has always loved me. All of me. Thus with all of my heart, I shall embrace that as my identity. Mordra is both male and female... both a man and a woman. Never again shall I be a man only! And as my heart directs me, so I shall do henceforth.” Gwendoline saw that I was healed in body, mind, spirit and soul... united in my being at long last. She began to kiss me and caress me, and I allowed myself to become excited and aroused by her, once again. When I was the High Queen, I had never made love to or with a woman before... this would be something new for me to experience. As Mordra, I would savor this experience and remember it, and cherish it always. As we coupled together, Gwendoline helped me to begin a new chapter in my life... one free of any and all torments, regrets, or troubles of the past. No more would I think upon past sins or past pains. I had been reborn! It was time, for the phoenix to soar.
When I finally left Lyonesse in the company of Gwendoline, who wished to journey back to Camelot at my side... I was dressed, fully, in female attire. I wore a long flowing pink gown with silver trim, and it had long wide sleeves. The gown was of the softest eastern silk... of a quality so fine that it was not at all native to our country, and the feel of it upon my skin was wonderful. Around my neck, I wore a very high quality necklace of white pearls... and upon my feet, were soft pink slippers. I wore a silver circlet about my shaved head, with a brilliant blue sapphire stone decorating the center of it. Around my waist I had tied a silver sash belt, which was tied with a neat bow at my side. Once more I did strap the sheath of my sword at my back, and I wore cosmetics upon my face... makeup that enhanced my beauty as fine and well as it was possible to. I wore floral scented perfume, and intended it to be that when I did return to Camelot, it would be in the guise of the High Queen who I used to be. Not the knight who had so set out on a simple delivery mission. We rode together upon a great white steed with a blood red saddle. As we rode along, Gwendoline sat in the saddle behind me with her arms wrapped about my waist. “I must say, I have never met the High King in person...” she began, then adding: “I wonder what sort of a man he really is?” I chuckled a bit, and then said to her honestly: “He was a reasonable enough father, I may suppose... once he got past the insanity that drove him to attempt to murder his own child practically in the very hour of its' birth. But as a husband, I found him quite lacking! Why do you wonder?” to which she replied in answer: “Because, I hear he is nearly mad with grief, and seeking to marry again. Since I am a princess after all... and, long have sought for a way to unite my kingdom of Lyonesse with that of the larger kingdom that Arthur is creating, that being the kingdom of a fully unified country... then it is not really all that surprising, that I might be somewhat interested in pursuing a marriage with the High King. So long as you do not mind, of course... since he was your husband after all.” I laughed long and loudly, and then exclaimed: “Husband! He was hardly ever all that affectionate towards me. I think, if anything, he liked the idea of being married to me more than the reality of it. I am a strong woman, as you likely know... but he is a somewhat weak sort of man sometimes. Not in body, but very much so in spirit and in will! Men follow him only because he inspires them with grand speeches... and even more grand promises. But look at the state of things all across the country! Even in a golden age of peace, it still is known that there is conflict and strife in a great many places. His justice does not reach to every corner of the land, not yet... else what happened to me never would have. I was rash when I rode forth to do battle with those two bastards who in the end murdered me... had I to do it all over again, I would have told my husband to go battle them himself if he wished to keep his crown and his head to wear it upon. Instead... ah, but that was in my previous body was it not! No sense continuing to brood over it as I have been finding myself doing so much. Marry whomever you will, Gwendoline, and may the great old gods of the land grant you more happiness with Arthur than ever I knew with him. You have well, my permission to so as ever your heart guides you! Just... remember everything I had told you and do not expect him to be a perfect man. For me, there is only one man who is truly perfect, and that has ever been my lovely Llwch! I wonder if he will fancy me in this new dress of mine?” After that, Gwendoline asked me rather seriously: “So, you have decided to fully embrace the Gwenhyver side of your being?” to which I very quickly stated: “Oh, aye! And why should I not? It fills me with so much more strength than ever I had felt before... as if this was always how, and who I was meant to one day become.” That did make the princess smile when for a moment I looked back at her to see what her mood might be. In the end, she would marry Arthur, and be crowned under the royal name of Queen Guinevere. But at the moment, she was just a young girl with high expectations of a grand future... one that would tragically, and quite sadly, never quite come to fruition. When we reached Camelot, I escorted her into the throne room to meet the High King. Never again would I call him either father, or husband. He was now going to be her problem to sort out, not mine. I strode on over to my beloved champion Llwch, who saw that I was someone quite different now than who I had been when last he held me within his big, strong arms.
I remembered the love name I used to call him, and I called him that as soon as I laid my eyes upon his handsome face: “My Eros! I have returned... it is good to be back.” and suddenly his face became a rather grim sight, as he looked me up and down and then gazed deep into my eyes. I was speaking with my own voice, the same tone of voice that I had used when I was still the High Queen. That was now... and would be henceforth... my only tone of voice. I would speak as a man does, no longer! I walked in the feminine way that I used to as well, and my mannerisms, my gestures, everything about me was as it had been when my name had been only Gwenhyver, rather than Mordra. Llwch thence so did cry out in a great shock, which greatly alarmed everyone present, who was in Arthur's court: “Oh! By the gods of old and by Jesus the Christ as well! It is you, is it not... you have, against all possible odds, found a way to return from the grave. Your voice, the fact that you called me by that name, which only we two ever knew you had called me to begin with... but this cannot be. I saw you die! I watched you die... and with my own two hands I did avenge that death. Yet, that choice of dress... it is so much like hers, that it can only be that you are she. You are she!” I then urged him to be silent, putting my index finger to my lips in a gesture to indicate that I wished for him to say nothing further. I said in a calm manner: “Oh Llwch, my darling, I think you need to quiet up a bit here! Everyone is looking, and can hear you loud and clear as the sun is in the sky by day and as the moon is in the heavens at night. We should speak, in private!” and I wanted to slap him silly for embarrassing me like that. Arthur called over to us, chuckling a bit as he did so: “Is something amiss over there, between you two?” I realized, how foolish my husband ever had been, that his noblest champion recognized me whilst he himself did not. So be it! It was probably for the best... given that he likely would not have wished to learn that his wife had been resurrected in the body of the very son whom he had once ordered the death of. Llwch called over to the High King in a jovial manner: “Oh, forgive me my king, it is just that last night I had a terrible nightmare in which it seemed to me that Mordra here had been killed whilst away upon some dangerous quest. In the dream, I did slay her killer with my very own hands, and so I had a bit of a moment just now when I recalled the horrid details of my nightmare... and confused the present reality with it. It was a passing madness, and not more than that, fear not!” Arthur then bade me draw near the throne, where he had been busy deep in discussion with Gwendoline. He looked me over a bit, and then gazed deeply into my eyes. Thence, he did say: “That style of dress now that I think of it is uncannily familiar to me. You, in truth, are most familiar to me, and not just because you are my... daughter, we shall call you now. If that pleases you?” I nodded my head, and tears came into my eyes. Somewhere deep in my heart, I still loved Arthur as my husband. I said unto him: “That pleases me very greatly, my king... father.” He then said: “Your voice, it has changed somewhat, Mordra... it reminds me of... never mind. Soon I myself shall descend into a passing madness if I continue along my present train of thought! At any rate, be off with Llwch before the man becomes too overwrought from missing you so much. It is good... to have you back again.” In that instant, I knew that he recognized me, and that made me happy. I rushed back, into the arms of my wonderful champion, and I ushered him into a side hallway that led to a storage closet. After, so leading him into the closet, I shut the door behind us and said: “Yes, my Eros! It is I... it is indeed Gwenhyver... and before you go screaming again, allow me to explain how, and also why, it is that I have returned.” I then told him everything, exactly as I had remembered it. So intimate were the details of my death that I was able to relate unto him, that if he had previously doubted who I was... this proved it to him in a way that did dispel even the slightest notion of doubt. I then explained to him, that all this time my body had been hermaphroditic and I had simply never realized it. After that, I stated: “For I am Mordred... as well as Gwenhyver! I am both, and henceforth I shall be known only as Mordra. I am free now, of my duties to my husband Arthur... free to love whomever I so choose, and beloved I choose you. You and Kundry I shall love... as never before! My new chance at life begins now.” I then began to kiss his lips, his face. It felt like the first time... and I was happy and beyond excited to see where our love would take us next.
She was a priestess of the ancient gods of the land... and for all of her young life she had dwelt in the domains of the north, though she was a child of old Lyonesse, which was ancient when all of the other lands of Ynys Prydain were in the infancy of their civilization. Her name was Gwendoline, and she was of the blood of the kings and queens of Lyonesse. I chanced to meet her, on an occasion when my father Arthur had wished me to journey unto that land in order to deliver an offering of small statuettes which had been crafted by Merlin and other notable druids in the likeness of the ancient gods themselves. For oft was it known that Lyonesse was a sacred place... it was there that I first met my beloved Kundry, but it was also there where I had committed my greatest sin, in causing the demise of the young girl who so had been revered as the living Holy Grail. I knew, that my return to that land would be filled with many emotions, both good and horrid, but even so I got the sense that such a journey would help me to ease a great deal of my own troubled thoughts. I did not dress for battle, but for comfort, although as always I did bring my sword Albion with me... for still were the roads long and sometimes frequented by lawless folk who seemed to seek ever to undo the peace of Arthur's kingdom, which was causing the country to become more united with each of his victories. It had been one year since the death of Arthur's wife, the great warrior queen Gwenhyver, and still did he mourn her quite bitterly. He took to wine in the hope of drowning his pain therein, but it only seemed to cause him to act bitter himself, and angry as well. I did not recognize my father when he drank like that, and I tended to avoid him at court when he behaved in such a way. The queen had been the rock upon which his goodness seemed to have been built, and very many in Camelot were fearful that the loss of her might one day cause him to descend into tyranny and wrathful behavior rather than the righteous goodness that most folk knew him, and loved him, for. I did decide to make the journey to Lyonesse alone, since it was a simple delivery task which I hoped to see concluded quickly, so that I might return to my home in the Golden Woods over which I ruled as a lord. I wore a long, elegant looking scarlet red gown with long, wide sleeves... which was belted at the waist with a golden sash. I did strap the sheath of my sword across my back, and there did I keep the weapon so that I could still draw the blade easily if the need for it arose. It was springtime... and so I wore upon my feet a pair of sandals. I decided not to wear any jewelry on this occasion, since that would make me less of a tempting target for bandits or robbers. I kept my money pouch in the saddlebags of my horse, and the sack containing the statuettes was strapped to the saddle firmly. The day on which I rode forth was a beautiful one, with fortunately no trace of wind or rain about the air and sky. The sun was out in full, and so was the day also a warm one as well as beautiful. I did not make too much haste, for it was not a mission of great urgency that I was upon, and I did not wish to tax my horse too greatly. As ever, I did stop at the inns to sleep when it was nighttime, and on the morrow I resumed my journey. I took the eastern border of Lyonesse, for that route was well known to me and one that I was familiar with. As it had been before, the guards at the border were polite and helpful... they recognized me from when I did come by that border before, and thus they did not stop me to ask any questions. They merely smiled as I rode by them... and resumed their patrol. I did happen to call out for a moment as I passed to ask which was the direction for the sacred grove which was known as Rhiannon's Weald, which was where I was bound, and they pointed me in the right direction. I thanked them for their assistance, and rode forth in the direction that they had described unto me, keeping an eye for the landmarks that lay along that way. It was strange to be back here after so long, and venturing into a part of Lyonesse where I had not ever been to before. There was so much to this part of the land, and a great deal of it was mysterious to me. The ways of the many peoples who did dwell in Lyonesse could be strange to outsiders at times, for it was a melting pot of sorts wherein ancient ways met with newer ones and many faiths were adhered to. One could get quite lost in such a place, and I had no desire to become lost. Ere long, I did spot in the distance the forest in which Rhiannon's Weald was supped to be. It was a forest... like most any other.
Tall pines, stout oaks, and smaller tress than they, with wildflowers and grass amid the underbrush... though there were clear man made trails to follow, rather than wild animal trails and the like, and this did make it easy enough to tell where I was supposed to be going. I loved the sacred groves and I was a firm adherent to the old ways of the Pagan gods... and goddesses... of my ancestors. And although I was a man, I also enjoyed sometimes dressing in the clothing of women, for I had a certain beauty to me as made it so that when I did so... people always took me to be a female rather than a male. I liked how it made me feel beautiful when that happened, and sometimes that caused me to blush a bit. I looked very different from other men, too! My skin... like that of my aunt Morgan... was chalk white, like that of an albino, and my eyes were grayish blue in color. I had but recently taken to shaving my head and also my eyebrows, because I noticed that my hair was beginning to thin as I was getting older, and I was starting to lose it rather quickly. I did not like how my hair loss affected my ability to keep looking feminine in those times when I desired to, and so it was something I took to doing in order to maintain my beauty... and not something I did because I simply wished to. The first time I had shaved my head and eyebrows, Kundry actually asked me why I did it, and I explained to her: “Beloved... there is something that most women realize, and I think some men understand this too. And it is quite a simple thing, really! Whilst a woman can look quite beautiful without any hair upon her head at all... neither a woman or a man will ever look their best if their hair is falling out. As for my eyebrows, it has become easier for me to shave them than to keep them plucked, since plucking out the hairs is a great deal more painful... and, as I am getting older, I find that I am becoming a good deal less tolerant of such pains.” She understood what I was explaining to her, and got used to my new appearance quickly enough. Sometimes, she did call me her husband... sometimes, she called me her wife. She knew that I did not truly have a fixed identity as regarded my gender... and that I enjoyed being able to present myself as whichever it pleased me to. As ever my moods took me. Most of my fellow knights accepted that I was simply different from them... I found a great deal of acceptance among them, and only a few of the lot who did not seem to quite truly comprehend why I had decided to live this way seemed to be openly hostile towards me because of this. I knew which knights I should avoid, both in court and otherwise, and I kept well away from them in as much as I possibly could. Their fear of my sword kept them from ever seeking to do my any harm, and I noticed that those particular knights were always the ones who claimed to be the most faithful to Christ. From all I understood of their Jesus the Christ, he never preached hatred for anyone, but instead spoke of love, tolerance, and understanding for all. Without exception! It was ironic that although I was Pagan and proud... still did I understand the true teachings of Christ better than they who followed him with so much hateful zeal in their hearts and minds. Upon a lighter note, my father loved me anyway no matter how I presented myself... and my old beloved paramour, the first man whom I had ever loved, the king's own greatest champion, Llwch Lleminawg, did often seek out more private moments in which we could indulge in a lover's tryst. More so when I was in the guise of a woman... than that of a man. “You are so very beautiful, Mordred! You were always beautiful to me.” he whispered one night, when we did make love together, after leading me away from the king's court for some time alone in his chambers. We did oft go for walks together in the gardens that once were the favorite place of the queen herself, and I was happy to see that Llwch did not care if some of his fellow knights mocked him for loving and doting on me the way that he did. We shared secrets with each other also, and memories of past lives that both of us discovered that we recalled quite strongly. When I had been Balor, the king of the Fomorians during the days when still the Tuatha de Danann did dwell openly in Ireland... Llwch had been my son Lugh. It was hard to imagine... for in that life, he became my bitterest enemy and had even been the cause of my death. But now he was one of my dearest loves, and we agreed that it was good that much had changed for us in the life which we lived currently. He even confessed unto me: “If I were king over Camelot, I would make you my queen... and name you Mordra. For, you are growing ever more fair, to my eyes!”
I told him that was already happily married, and he admitted that he had forgotten that I was. He then stated: “Then I would adopt you as my daughter, and name you princess! Your wife would also be thus a princess, and together you two would inherit the throne upon my passing.” He was actually, literally, old enough to be my father. He was around Arthur's age, and it always surprised me that he had become so smitten with me over the years due to the vast difference in our ages. But then I remembered that it was now different between Kundry and I... for although I was old enough to be her parent, even so I felt a burning passion for her that sometimes felt as if it might consume me whole. I sensed that kind of hot, mad passion within Llwch's heart for me... and, it made me wish to be a woman even more, seeing how his eyes looked upon me so hungrily and devotedly. Perhaps the greatest honor he ever did me was the day when he called me his “Pale Gwenhyver”, and told me that: “Though you do not look like her, you have within you a great deal of the same spirit that made the queen such a great woman! I loved her, as you know... as I have confessed unto you before... but now, there are times when I feel that same kind of feeling with you, that I felt when I was with her. When I am not around you, I long for you! And in the late hours of the night... in those nights when we are not trysting together... I call out for you, and I have dreams in which you and she seem to mix and combine into a single person. Sometimes, you are my Mordra... sometimes you are Gwenhyver... but always it is your pale face that I see no matter what body that face is upon. If this be madness growing within me, than I am happy to be mad!” This, was how my face looked when he gazed upon it... I had high cheekbones, an aquiline nose that was regal but not overly long. I had small lips which I took to anointing with that era's equivalent to red lipstick. My face was round, my ears rather tapered, and I found myself smiling quite a bit more than I used to. As for my body, I had delicate skin which was as soft as a maiden's. My bones were slender, my fingers so those of an artist rather than a warrior. I was very fey and Elvish in appearance, and when I chose to be a woman I resembled my aunt very strongly. Some began to say that I had cast a spell of enchantment upon the king's champion and that I had bound him thus unto my will... but they did not understand. He was simply falling so deeply in love with me, that no longer could he... or would he... keep it a secret. It had been he who saw me off when I departed for Lyonesse to deliver those statuettes... and thus, it had been his loving, kindly face that was oft firmly fixed in my mind as I rode along. I thought of him, and I thought of Kundry, and I was happy to have been blessed with two who loved me with the same depth and warmth. I wondered what my aunt would think to see me now... I knew that she would likewise be understanding of my choice to live this way more and more frequently. And when I thought of her, I did wonder whatever became of her when she left to dwell with the sisterhood of Avalon. I wondered... had she truly been the one who had driven my brother Gaheris to murder our mother? Unless one day, I had a chance to speak with her, I would never learn the truth of that matter. For now I concentrated upon the business at hand, as I lost myself for a bit in the beauty of the woodlands all about me. I was looking as my very best, my most feminine, upon that day... and it felt good to be that way. Was this my true self, after all? And why had thus seemed to begin so much more strongly following the queen's death! I had no answers to such questions, but there were times when I wondered if I was not somehow possessed in some way by the spirit of the deceased queen. Her memories sometimes came into my mind unbidden... and I remembered that one of her titles was “The White Queen”. If she did live on somehow within me, then she was white in flesh as much as in the purity of her goodly spirit. “Mordra.” I said aloud... letting the sound of the name which my handsome paramour had given me roll off of my tongue for a bit. I did like it a great deal! It suited me far better than either Mordred... or Gwenhyver. And that was when it so occurred to me, that I was simply Mordred no longer. There were two souls within my body, and now I did know for certainty that one of them was the soul of the queen herself. “No man, shall ever harm me again!” I heard her thoughts thinking, within my mind. I laid my hand upon the hilt of my sword, and I smiled. Albion would protect me. Arthur had never truly understood me as a wife anyway! Never fully.
The queen was dead, and yet she lived on within me. I needed to speak to a druid, in order to ask how such a thing had even been possible. I needed to know why I... she... was slowly becoming increasingly the dominant spirit within my body. My new body? Gods! This was frustrating. I needed to hurry, to go unto that sacred grove with all speed... there would be wise druids there, and they had to be willing and able to assist their queen. No, for I was the queen no longer! I was also Mordra, who had been Mordred. I needed to get my new identity together, lest the circumstances of this strange resurrection drive me to madness. The grove called Rhiannon's Weald was beyond beautiful! As I raced towards it, I did thereon slow my steed to a reasonable pace once more so that I could take it all in. The oaks of that grove were mighty and towering... and there were garlands of pale white flowers decorated all the branches of those trees. Ribbons were tied around certain branches as well, and chimes were hung from many of them. As the gentle breeze that seemed to be about the grove in that hour blew, the chimes played music that I so found to be remarkably beautiful. Flowers filled the meadow in the middle of the grove, and sunlight of the most beautiful golden hues did shine through the treetops and reach that meadow. Many tall idols of crude stonework did decorate that meadow about the edges of it nearest to the trees. The druids who so tended that grove were there in full, men and woman some of whom wore robes of brown like unto that of monks... and some of whom wore robes of white. They were of many ages, those druids, and it was I thought quite certain that at least one of them could help me with my rather unusual problem. I got off of my horse and took from it the sack which contained the statuettes that I was to give into the keeping of the head druid of the grove. I approached a young woman who was among the druids, and thought to ask her which of the druids was the leader. She was wearing a long white gown that was almost as full and flowing as my own, and about her waist she wore a golden girdle. She had a crown of flowers upon her head, and her hair was pale blonde in color with golden highlights, and extremely curly. She wore it long, her hair, and it did fall to at the very least her upper thighs. She had a rather round face, somewhat broad features, and large full lips. Her skin was somewhat dusky, but not dark, and her eyes were likely the deepest, darkest shade of blue that I had ever seen before. Her face was heavily freckled... and such was her appearance that there was something foreign and exotic about it. She was a large boned young woman, a little heavy set, but not overweight. She was a big girl, but not a fat girl in the least. Rather... she looked strong and hard working, and was not at all what I expected from a daughter of noble blood. That was how I came to meet with Gwendoline, heir to the noble lineage of the kings and queens of old Lyonesse. I did introduce myself to her somewhat awkwardly as I approached her, saying: “Greetings to you... young maiden! My name is... Gwen... oops, rather I mean to say my name is Mordra. Daughter of Arthur who is the High King over all the lands of Ynys Prydain. I have come to deliver these sacred and blessed statuettes unto the head of the druids whose order it is that tends this grove. Might I know, if it be that you know it, which of their lot is he or she?” She smiled and saw that I was nervous and rather a bit fidgety as I spoke to her. She then said in a voice that had a peculiar accent to it which I simply had no means of placing: “Wait a moment, Mordra! You almost said your name was Gwen, before it was as you seemed to catch yourself there. I am quite keen when it comes to observing people, and noticed that it appears you are quite upset over something. Now when one is both so visibly upset and trying to keep their real name a secret... that usually means trouble, and we do not want any trouble in our grove. Also it is known to us that Arthur has a son named Mordred... he has no daughter. And you appear to be, in truth, a woman! Thus, you are clearly not who you claim to be. Can you explain that to me first? Then, I would be happy to show you to the head of this grove.” I then explained to her that I was Mordred in the past, and proceeded to tell her in detail and at great length everything that led to me deciding to be now living as a woman and calling myself Mordra. I also told her that I had within me, the soul of the High Queen herself, and that it was causing me to confuse my very own identity at times. I confessed, that I was looking to speak with a druid who had knowledge of such things, in order to understand this.
The girl's eyes widened, and she appeared visibly shocked. She was at most about sixteen years old... and had likely never before in her life heard of such a thing, as I had just said unto her. She cleared her throat and then said unto me after hearing my story: “Sometimes, when a person dies a horrible enough death, their soul and spirit cannot enter into the other world in order to await their proper rebirth into a newly born body. Sometimes they linger about the place where they died, but if that place traumatized them too much, they will seek out a place wherein a kindred spirit might be found. They will try at the first to communicate with that person whom they sought out, but failing that... they might attempt some kind of possession. Then, if they like the body well enough, they might bond with the soul and spirit of the one whose body that have come to dwell within... and the two then become one soul and spirit. Two no longer, for when that happens their memories merge together and they become one in every sense of such a thing. If all that you have told me is truthful, my lady... for it is indeed a lady I see before me... it is thus that the High Queen lives again through you. Henceforth, you will in the years to come recall all of her life, from her childhood unto her death. You will keep and retain all of your own memories, but with hers added to them... on looking back at this life, you will have two sets of memories therefore. It will be strange to you to notice this, but because you were actually two people once... both of you, who are now one, will understand which memories are which, and my best advice would be to seek balance between who you both once were and the combined person whom you are now. There is no way to end this for you, it is not like a standard case of possession. This is a bonding, a uniting, of two traumatized individuals who are both suffering for their own reasons. I would ask only this, if I were you! What is it that traumatized you to the point where she saw in you a kindred spirit to begin with?” I knew, at once, what it was which had most tormented me, and which tormented me still. I confessed to the girl all that I had done which brought about the death of she who had been the Holy Grail. I knew it was a bad idea to tell anyone about it, but I had to tell this girl the truth I realized... she had to know what disturbed me so greatly. She said unto me: “You were hesitant to confess this to me, I sensed, but fear not! We druids are the judges of the guilty in every royal court in the land... and I have decided that it is not my place to judge you for that crime which you committed. You just told me how much that memory pains you, and how much you wish that you could go back and change what took place so that it might never happen... that is not the thinking of a criminal, but of a tormented soul who is truly remorseful. You are therefore, a penitent spirit in search of redemption. You have sinned, but you have sworn to sin no more! That, is the first step towards even the blackest soul's redemption. And, now... with the High Queen herself thus finding new life within you, if I were to order your death for the crime of unholy sacrilege, then I would be condemning her to die a second time along with you. That would be regicide, would it not? So now, it means that I must pretend that you never told me what you did. You never made that confession! It is as if the deed had never been done by your hands. I am the head of the druids of this grove. My name is Gwendoline, and I am in truth of the royal lineage of the rulers of Lyonesse. I know that I not only look like a common girl, but also in all likelihood appear to your eyes to be far too young to serve as leader of this order of druids... but as the crown princess of Lyonesse, it is my duty to hold that position. For, every princess... later queen... of Lyonesse who has ever been born into the lineage of my family, has by tradition always been also the chief of all the druids of our fair kingdom. I have met with and spoken to your own chief druid, Merlin, and I know also they who govern the sisterhood of Avalon. Thus it is as when I pledge to keep your confession unto me a secret, then you know by my oath of honor that this is something that I intend to take to the grave with me. What you need to do in life, is decide who it is that you truly are now! Mordred, son of Arthur... Gwenhyver, daughter of Leodegrance... or Mordra, who is both of them? But that is something only you can decide. Now then! You said you have some statuettes for me, I think. Here, let me have a look at them! I will say this for you... at least your are punctual.” I gave her the sack containing the statuettes, and she and I chatted on about minor things for a long time.
She was pleasant, kind, understanding, and rather sweet. On her insistence, I remained with her at the grove in order to rediscover myself and try to understand the person whom I now was. She taught me a great many new ways to meditate and in order to calm me and ease me in my moments of torment... for even in that peaceful place, those moments sometimes came unto me... she did practice with me a bit of sexual related magics, for I told her that I felt at my most blissful when in the throes of sexual ecstasy. I had relations in the past with prostitutes who provided sexual gratification for coin... but what this was, that Gwendoline and I did together, was something far more spiritual and pure. She was clearly not, as I had at first thought, a maiden... she was skilled, and experienced, in the arts of lovemaking. One of our sessions involved us sitting across from each other, but within touching distance. We both donned soft, delicate white sleeveless gowns for this occasion, and we just stared at each other. She said unto me as follows: “When you stare at me like that... does it bring you peace?” and, I said to her: “There is about you something profoundly peaceful... it makes me feel that same peace within myself.” She then replied unto what I had said, stating: “Then I want you to look over my entire body from my face to my breasts, to between my legs. Here, I will even make it easier for you!” and she then spread her legs widely, and arched her back in a seductive way, licking her lips in a manner that I found enticing. She did shake her hair a bit and I saw that her breasts jiggled when she did that. I found her to be quite arousing just then, and realized I had found her arousing since first my eyes had fallen upon her. She noticed as she looked between my legs how erect my manhood was becoming, and she said unto me: “I want you to keep on... looking at me, with that hungry look in your eyes that you have right now. I want you to to show me but without touching me just yet, how much peace it is that you find when looking upon me.” She then did begin to sing in a soft voice... how had I only just then noticed how soft her voice was?... and I looked at the shape of her breasts through the fabric of her gown, the way her nipples looked through it as well. I looked between her legs, to where the cleft of her womanhood was... and how her gown clung to that part of her body in such a way that I could see the shape of it, the mound of her femininity, and I found it much to my liking. I had to do something to show her what I was feeling for her... and I asked her if we could remove our gowns. She explained: “No, for this session we must leave our gowns on! That is a part of the challenge, here, for you... to choose how to express, what I have instructed you to express. But without being able to see me naked or be naked yourself.” She then got back to singing, and I saw that she was staring deeply into my eyes... I was lost in hers... and began once more to look over all of her charms as best as I could see them through her gown. We were both naked underneath these gowns, and I was so very hard for her that I knew what had to be done. I began to stroke my manhood, through the fabric of the gown that I was wearing... it felt good wrapped in that soft silk-like fabric... and soon it was that I felt the wetness of my arousal upon my hand. I masturbated to Gwendoline, and she smiled... almost serenely... as she watched me do this. I did stroke myself faster and faster, whilst the girl licked her lips and said seductively: “Oh, very, very good! Keep it up, just like that... very nice. Don't stop... I want to see how much peace you can achieve when gazing upon me like you are.” My eyes were pretty much devouring her at that point, and I could not stop... I continued to masturbate until I did orgasm in climax quite fully, soaking my gown with the issue of my self pleasure. “Oh, Gwendoline! You are so very beautiful... so very sublime, my goddess.” I called out... unable to contain how I felt about her, any longer. I laid back after that, staring up at the sky above the sacred grove's meadow. We were sitting on blankets, and so it was quite soft when I did lay back after that passionate exertion. She crawled over to me and I felt her lifting up my gown. She began to lick my manhood, and suck upon it... swallowing all of my issue and continuing to suck upon me until I was clean. This caused me to orgasm a second time, far more intensely, into her mouth, since I had apparently not been fully finished doing so before. That too she swallowed, and after that she smiled and said: “I am happy that I can bring you peace! And you can see now, that self pleasure can be more than sexual gratification... let me tell you, deeper secrets.”
She explained unto me, after laying down next to me and caressing my chest in a way that was almost as if she was indicating that I was hers, and hers alone: “It can be a means of releasing tension, it can be a tool to aid in reaching a transcendent, ecstatic state of mind and body, it an be a means of creative self expression, and it can be also... at its' very simplest... a quick and easy gateway to temporary bliss. But, if you do it with someone you like, or love, a great deal... then it can become something more. Just like the difference between a casual tryst, and lovemaking. After you've rested for a bit, we will get you all cleaned up, and then in a few hours or so... we can make love together and see what peace I may be able to bring you with your nice, hard cock inside of me. Would you like that?” She was not talking to me in that last part as my instructor or teacher... there was something of raw desire in her words. I smiled and said unto her: “I would very much like that indeed, my princess!” The goal she claimed for that night's coupling, was to try and get my sexual thinking to be in balance so that the male and female aspects of my soul and spirit could become more harmoniously unified than ever before. She waited until I was in the very act of thrusting in and out of her, my body heaving atop hers as I took her passionately in love, and thence did she say unto me in a low, seductive tone of voice: “Yes! You claim me as a man claims his dearest love... but whilst you are doing so, I want you to tray a little experiment. Imagine that you in fact as me... and that I am you. Imagine me thrusting in and out of you, and you laying upon your back with your legs spread like mine are right now. Does that thought excite you?” It excited me greatly, for it made me think back to the trysts I had with Llwch Lleminawg... how I would lick and suck his cock, playing the harlot upon my knees for him, only to later on lay with my legs spread open so that he could lick and suck upon my manhood in turn, stroking it as he did so, until I found sweet release thereby. He would kiss me all over every inch of my body, caressing me as he did so, telling me how beautiful I was in his eyes. Then, suddenly, my mind flashed over to the memories that Gwenhyver had of her own hot, passionate trysts with Llwch... and, I was her in all of those intense memories, remembering the manner in which he and I made love and how he always called me his “Gwen”. But that series of memories was intruded upon by the savage sexual manner in which I... she... had met her end. I did not want to look in those memories at the faces of the two men who had raped and tortured me over and over again. And... then there was that third man, the messenger they hired, who also raped me. I began to cry, and I began to scream! I cried out for help, and then snapped out of those memories entirely. I had lost the mood for any kind of sexual activity as I began to cry... and had to pull out of Gwendoline fully because of that. I sat curled up, weeping, and saying: “They violated me, those three bastards! They took everything from me... everything... even my life at the last of it.” and the princess then wrapped her arms around me and whispered into my ear: “I am very pleased to meet you at last, High Queen Gwenhyver. You too need to achieve peace! Try to forget the horrors of what happened at the end of your life... and try to focus once again on more pleasant, pleasurable memories. You need to be able to make love again, my queen... or, forever shall the trauma of your death hold you back from knowing bliss once more.” I was Gwenhyver fully in that moment, and only her... only me... and I did speak, but my voice was speaking in precisely the same tone that I had so often spoken in when I was the High Queen. It was much softer a tone than Mordred typically favored... although his voice was far softer and sweeter than any other man's I had in my life heard. My voice was soft, but commanding at times, although this was not a time for behaving in an imperious manner. I was a warrior queen once... and I intended to be one once again. Not a victim but a champion among women! I told all of this to Gwendoline... and, my mannerisms were my own. I did not use any masculine mannerisms or expressions, or anything else. I was a woman, a queen, and it was good to be alive once again... whole and not violated... strong enough despite that this body was a bit weaker physically then my previous one had been. I knew what lay between my legs was the organ of a man, but what beat within my breast was the heart of a woman. Mordred did not know... but once I took possession of his body, I noticed something unusual. He was actually hermaphroditic. Part female.
Something bizarre... had occurred when he was still in his mother's womb, something that caused his fetus to become of two genders rather than simply only one. His aunt Morgan knew... she had told him, I saw within his memories, that she was there when he was born. She had to have known! She was not wholly mortal, after all, she was the incarnation of Death herself. The Morrigan, as the ancients called her. That same goddess who also was the embodiment of rebirth as well as death. And Mordred was an ancient soul, one that had lived countless lives past, and who had previous incarnations beyond any and all reasonable ability to count the number thereof. Whatever were the circumstances of Mordred's birth, it was certain that The Morrgian had a hand in shaping his current incarnation. She knew, and she never told him the truth. He possesses fully functioning male genitalia... but has wider hips than men typically do, small breasts that he tries to downplay by wearing clothing that keeps them appearing flatter and a lot more masculine in shape than they actually are. And, his abdomen in somewhat bigger than that of a man. But in addition to all of that... he is also entirely infertile. He can pleasure a woman, but he cannot ever father a child. He also has all of a woman's emotions, and all of a man's capacity for passion, and for anger. He is of an ancient and partially inhuman bloodline. He is not what he was led to believe he was, for the entirety of his life. And now... I had to let him know! I told Gwendoline everything that I had observed regarding my new body... Mordred's body... and then I retreated back into myself, into his mind, which was now mine as well, in order to show him everything that I had noticed about him, and so learned of his birth thereby. I had access to all of his memories, and he had access to all of mine. It was time we truly became one at long last! Even if it costed us both our individuality... we would, if so it was required, create a new identity for ourselves. A new self, to replace our wounded halves. Thus it was that Gwenhyver made me aware of the truth of my physical body and the things regarding my birth that my aunt Morgan never wished for me to learn. Did she truly think it would torment me so much to be told that I was as much female as I was male? Then again, she grew up in her current incarnation as a woman surrounded by countless men whose masculinity was toxic in the extreme... if any of them so had been told such a thing it probably would have driven them mad. She could not know the sort that I would grow up to become... she could not risk hurting me in any way, for she cared for me and wanted only that I be safe from any and all harm. Even harm that I might possibly do to myself. But I did not at the last mind the knowledge that now I was presented with! If anything, it validated for me all of what I had long thought and felt regarding myself... and I knew at last why it always felt good when people did find me beautiful and think me to be a woman. I was a woman... and a man. I was still myself, but now I was also Gwenhyver in such a way that I needed to forge a new identity for myself... so that like unto the phoenix I could rise from the ashes of the past in order to create a brighter future for myself. I then did speak unto Gwendoline and I revealed everything unto her that now understood. She said unto me in a sweet tone of voice: “You are both one now! There is only one, no longer two. But what name do you wish to go by? You need to express yourself through your name, after all.” I thought deeply on it, and knew what my heart longed for me to choose for my name. I told her: “My name henceforth shall be Mordra, and only Mordra. Thus was I named by one whom I love, one whom I have always loved... and who has always loved me. All of me. Thus with all of my heart, I shall embrace that as my identity. Mordra is both male and female... both a man and a woman. Never again shall I be a man only! And as my heart directs me, so I shall do henceforth.” Gwendoline saw that I was healed in body, mind, spirit and soul... united in my being at long last. She began to kiss me and caress me, and I allowed myself to become excited and aroused by her, once again. When I was the High Queen, I had never made love to or with a woman before... this would be something new for me to experience. As Mordra, I would savor this experience and remember it, and cherish it always. As we coupled together, Gwendoline helped me to begin a new chapter in my life... one free of any and all torments, regrets, or troubles of the past. No more would I think upon past sins or past pains. I had been reborn! It was time, for the phoenix to soar.
When I finally left Lyonesse in the company of Gwendoline, who wished to journey back to Camelot at my side... I was dressed, fully, in female attire. I wore a long flowing pink gown with silver trim, and it had long wide sleeves. The gown was of the softest eastern silk... of a quality so fine that it was not at all native to our country, and the feel of it upon my skin was wonderful. Around my neck, I wore a very high quality necklace of white pearls... and upon my feet, were soft pink slippers. I wore a silver circlet about my shaved head, with a brilliant blue sapphire stone decorating the center of it. Around my waist I had tied a silver sash belt, which was tied with a neat bow at my side. Once more I did strap the sheath of my sword at my back, and I wore cosmetics upon my face... makeup that enhanced my beauty as fine and well as it was possible to. I wore floral scented perfume, and intended it to be that when I did return to Camelot, it would be in the guise of the High Queen who I used to be. Not the knight who had so set out on a simple delivery mission. We rode together upon a great white steed with a blood red saddle. As we rode along, Gwendoline sat in the saddle behind me with her arms wrapped about my waist. “I must say, I have never met the High King in person...” she began, then adding: “I wonder what sort of a man he really is?” I chuckled a bit, and then said to her honestly: “He was a reasonable enough father, I may suppose... once he got past the insanity that drove him to attempt to murder his own child practically in the very hour of its' birth. But as a husband, I found him quite lacking! Why do you wonder?” to which she replied in answer: “Because, I hear he is nearly mad with grief, and seeking to marry again. Since I am a princess after all... and, long have sought for a way to unite my kingdom of Lyonesse with that of the larger kingdom that Arthur is creating, that being the kingdom of a fully unified country... then it is not really all that surprising, that I might be somewhat interested in pursuing a marriage with the High King. So long as you do not mind, of course... since he was your husband after all.” I laughed long and loudly, and then exclaimed: “Husband! He was hardly ever all that affectionate towards me. I think, if anything, he liked the idea of being married to me more than the reality of it. I am a strong woman, as you likely know... but he is a somewhat weak sort of man sometimes. Not in body, but very much so in spirit and in will! Men follow him only because he inspires them with grand speeches... and even more grand promises. But look at the state of things all across the country! Even in a golden age of peace, it still is known that there is conflict and strife in a great many places. His justice does not reach to every corner of the land, not yet... else what happened to me never would have. I was rash when I rode forth to do battle with those two bastards who in the end murdered me... had I to do it all over again, I would have told my husband to go battle them himself if he wished to keep his crown and his head to wear it upon. Instead... ah, but that was in my previous body was it not! No sense continuing to brood over it as I have been finding myself doing so much. Marry whomever you will, Gwendoline, and may the great old gods of the land grant you more happiness with Arthur than ever I knew with him. You have well, my permission to so as ever your heart guides you! Just... remember everything I had told you and do not expect him to be a perfect man. For me, there is only one man who is truly perfect, and that has ever been my lovely Llwch! I wonder if he will fancy me in this new dress of mine?” After that, Gwendoline asked me rather seriously: “So, you have decided to fully embrace the Gwenhyver side of your being?” to which I very quickly stated: “Oh, aye! And why should I not? It fills me with so much more strength than ever I had felt before... as if this was always how, and who I was meant to one day become.” That did make the princess smile when for a moment I looked back at her to see what her mood might be. In the end, she would marry Arthur, and be crowned under the royal name of Queen Guinevere. But at the moment, she was just a young girl with high expectations of a grand future... one that would tragically, and quite sadly, never quite come to fruition. When we reached Camelot, I escorted her into the throne room to meet the High King. Never again would I call him either father, or husband. He was now going to be her problem to sort out, not mine. I strode on over to my beloved champion Llwch, who saw that I was someone quite different now than who I had been when last he held me within his big, strong arms.
I remembered the love name I used to call him, and I called him that as soon as I laid my eyes upon his handsome face: “My Eros! I have returned... it is good to be back.” and suddenly his face became a rather grim sight, as he looked me up and down and then gazed deep into my eyes. I was speaking with my own voice, the same tone of voice that I had used when I was still the High Queen. That was now... and would be henceforth... my only tone of voice. I would speak as a man does, no longer! I walked in the feminine way that I used to as well, and my mannerisms, my gestures, everything about me was as it had been when my name had been only Gwenhyver, rather than Mordra. Llwch thence so did cry out in a great shock, which greatly alarmed everyone present, who was in Arthur's court: “Oh! By the gods of old and by Jesus the Christ as well! It is you, is it not... you have, against all possible odds, found a way to return from the grave. Your voice, the fact that you called me by that name, which only we two ever knew you had called me to begin with... but this cannot be. I saw you die! I watched you die... and with my own two hands I did avenge that death. Yet, that choice of dress... it is so much like hers, that it can only be that you are she. You are she!” I then urged him to be silent, putting my index finger to my lips in a gesture to indicate that I wished for him to say nothing further. I said in a calm manner: “Oh Llwch, my darling, I think you need to quiet up a bit here! Everyone is looking, and can hear you loud and clear as the sun is in the sky by day and as the moon is in the heavens at night. We should speak, in private!” and I wanted to slap him silly for embarrassing me like that. Arthur called over to us, chuckling a bit as he did so: “Is something amiss over there, between you two?” I realized, how foolish my husband ever had been, that his noblest champion recognized me whilst he himself did not. So be it! It was probably for the best... given that he likely would not have wished to learn that his wife had been resurrected in the body of the very son whom he had once ordered the death of. Llwch called over to the High King in a jovial manner: “Oh, forgive me my king, it is just that last night I had a terrible nightmare in which it seemed to me that Mordra here had been killed whilst away upon some dangerous quest. In the dream, I did slay her killer with my very own hands, and so I had a bit of a moment just now when I recalled the horrid details of my nightmare... and confused the present reality with it. It was a passing madness, and not more than that, fear not!” Arthur then bade me draw near the throne, where he had been busy deep in discussion with Gwendoline. He looked me over a bit, and then gazed deeply into my eyes. Thence, he did say: “That style of dress now that I think of it is uncannily familiar to me. You, in truth, are most familiar to me, and not just because you are my... daughter, we shall call you now. If that pleases you?” I nodded my head, and tears came into my eyes. Somewhere deep in my heart, I still loved Arthur as my husband. I said unto him: “That pleases me very greatly, my king... father.” He then said: “Your voice, it has changed somewhat, Mordra... it reminds me of... never mind. Soon I myself shall descend into a passing madness if I continue along my present train of thought! At any rate, be off with Llwch before the man becomes too overwrought from missing you so much. It is good... to have you back again.” In that instant, I knew that he recognized me, and that made me happy. I rushed back, into the arms of my wonderful champion, and I ushered him into a side hallway that led to a storage closet. After, so leading him into the closet, I shut the door behind us and said: “Yes, my Eros! It is I... it is indeed Gwenhyver... and before you go screaming again, allow me to explain how, and also why, it is that I have returned.” I then told him everything, exactly as I had remembered it. So intimate were the details of my death that I was able to relate unto him, that if he had previously doubted who I was... this proved it to him in a way that did dispel even the slightest notion of doubt. I then explained to him, that all this time my body had been hermaphroditic and I had simply never realized it. After that, I stated: “For I am Mordred... as well as Gwenhyver! I am both, and henceforth I shall be known only as Mordra. I am free now, of my duties to my husband Arthur... free to love whomever I so choose, and beloved I choose you. You and Kundry I shall love... as never before! My new chance at life begins now.” I then began to kiss his lips, his face. It felt like the first time... and I was happy and beyond excited to see where our love would take us next.
Published 12th Dec 2022
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