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- See also: Tyrdda's Staff
Tell the tale of Tyrdda Bright-Axe, mountain maker, spirit's bride:
Free, her people, forged in fastness, made in mountains, hardy hide.
Wise in wisdom, calm in counsel, great in gifts her grateful guests,
Sacrificed she did to spirits, took their teachings, followed quests.
Bright her axe, unbreaking crystal, stirred to flame when temper flies,
Gifted from her leaf-eared lover, laughing lady of the skies.
Bested blades of all who tried,
Maiden, spurning all requests,
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Dreamer's Eyes.
Avvar-Mother, of her making.
Thelm Gold-Handed, fingers greasy, jeweled rings with glitter shone,
Took in tribes in times of trouble, fed them fat to weaken bone.
Warriors great and great in number, sun-kissed swords to fight his wars,
Drake-scaled shirts their bodies covered, heart-wine stained the salty shores.
Told his tribes a tale of treasure, over sea to north it gleamed,
Whispered words to drive the droves to golden city where he dreamed.
Counseled quick in dreams alone,
Voices wiser man ignores,
Pushed the tribes until they screamed,
Heed the dreams and cross the Waking.
Honey-tongued was Thelm to Tyrdda, gifts of gold and steel to start,
Wanted Tyrdda's men for warriors, stolen tribe from stolen heart.
Cold, her tribe, the Gold-Hand counseled, lean from winter's wind-knife chill,
"Be my bride and cross the Waking, eat the gilded city's fill."
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, fraught with fury, crystal axe-head stirred to blaze,
Heeded well her leaf-eared lover, unabashed by lustful gaze.
"None shall break my tribe apart,
Not with demon-words that kill,
Fear my fury's fiery rays,
Dream-words lie, their thirst unslaking."
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Thelm Gold-Handed, battle brought with blade and ax,
Thelm in mail and shields of silver, shining sheen to turn attacks.
Blade of dragonbone, now blooded, warrior throats wrung raw with cheers,
Tyrdda stands, her bright ax blazing, leg still weeping battle-tears.
Bright the ax of leaf-eared lover, laughing lady of the skies,
Fire flares as Thelm Gold-Handed, honey-tongued, repeats his lies.
"North to warmth, and golden cities,
Whispers speak in Dreamers' ears!"
Silver scorched, the liar flies
On ravens' beaks, to dream unwaking.
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, bold and bloodied, took her tribe from placid plains,
Tribes with blades by farming blunted chased and fought, their parting pains.
To the mountains, shorn of shelter, snow-slicked peaks gave wind its bite,
Found a cave to save her tribe, but dragonfire lit the night.
Beast no blade could break came roaring, mountains slipped their winter gown,
Tyrdda shouts to leaf-eared lover, "You I chose above a crown!"
Lightning split the spitting rains,
Sundered over prideful heights,
Dragon fell in rubble down,
Crashed and crushed in earth's mad shaking.
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, proud her tribe, free from fallow fat below,
Built in battle, fed on fighting, strong from struggle did they grow.
Deep in caves, the stone-men tribe, Hendir's warriors, stout and strong,
Met the tribe with axes ready, armor gleaming, sword-blades long.
Spoke with Tyrdda did her lover, gentle whispers soft she made,
Dwarven hearts were sundered, simple, still with honor. Thus she bade:
"Let the tribe the dwarf-men know,
In their caves, where they belong,
Not with battle but with trade,
Hendir's dwarves, give peace unbreaking."
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Dwarf-Friend Chieftain, with her leaf-eared lover lay,
Woke she did to love-sweat morning, lover gone in light of day.
Dream-words whispered, spoken soft, still the silence crushed and crashing,
Dead her tribe, unless a child could keep her line in warrior fashion.
Aval'var, so named the lover, called "our journey, yours and mine,"
One day child of Tyrdda's blood, Morrighan'nan, in strength must shine.
Lover's whispers to obey,
Hendir, dwarf-prince, friend in passion,
Babe produced to serve the line,
The Avvar tribe, her name, our taking.
Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Avvar Chieftain, strong her tribe with dwarven trade,
Battles brought to men and demons, won with wisdom, fire, and blade.
Then did Tyrdda look to Hendir, dwarf-prince friend, children-giver,
Took her freedom, Hendir glad, wished her what he could not give her.
Chose her child to stand as chieftain, after all last wrongs were righted,
Gifted goods of worldly want, left her tribe no more benighted.
Skyward, one last trek she made,
To her lover, dream-delivered,
Hearts both whole, now neither aching.