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Celtic seasonal festivals - Part 3: Lughnasadh

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 4

Hello everyone! It's August 1st, which means it's once again time for another issue of our series on Celtic seasonal festivals. Today, we will take a look at the origins, rituals, and surviving customs of Lughnasadh - one of the less known, but no less significant festivals.

General/Etymology

Lughnasadh, pronounced loo-NAH-sah (alternatively called Lughnasa/Lúnasa), is one of the Celtic seasonal/"fire" festivals that marked the beginning of the harvest season, traditionally being held on August 1st. (Although due to the lunar calendar of the Celts, the date might have been movable.) It took place when the first fruits of the year were ready for harvest, celebrating and thanking the earth for the bounty it had given to mankind.

Back in ancient times, the last days of July were trying time for farmers, since the crops from the previous year were already done and the new ones not yet ripe. Thus, it would make sense for the advent of the harvesting period to be considered an appropriate time for celebrations of joy and thanksgiving. This suggests a great focus on arable farming in Celtic culture, which is supported by historical evidence: In fact, the Celts were the first people to significantly change Europe's landscape from the Atlantic coast all the way to the Black Sea, turning primeval forests into a cultivated landscape of fields, farmsteads, and settlements. This was in no small part due to their ability to process iron, which was used for a multitude of agricultural tools such as axes, scythes, and sickles, allowing them to work the land with ease.

The main crops cultivated by the Ancient Celts were emmer (depicted above), spelt, einkorn wheat, millet, and barley; aside from food, the latter was also used for the production of beer (Source)

However, the most ingenious, revolutionary invention of the Celtic farmers was the iron plowshare: Celtic plows were the first ones to have a mobile coulter, with a sharp knife making a vertical cut while the share simultaneously did a horizontal cut, turning over the soil. This meant that the Celts didn't have to plow their fields twice, like other ancient peoples who still used wooden plows. Thanks to this and various other inventions - like sealable underground pits to keep the corn fresh and a kind of manure made from dung and chalk/loam - the Celts were able to achieve more successes in agriculture than any other people of the Iron Age. Not even the Roman plows of this period, which could only carve furrows into the soil, were comparable to those of the Celts.

It has been suggested that the Gaulish Celts referred to Lughnasadh as Aedrinia, derived from the name of the month Edrinios (possibly meaning "end of the heat", with heat being synonymous to aéd/fire) found in the Coligny Calendar. An alternate, older Irish term for the festival was Brón Trogain, which can be translated as "Earth's sorrow" (brón meaning sorrow/lamentation/burden, and trogain earth/autumn). Since the word trogan is also associated with the pain during childbirth in an Irish imprecation, the name can be seen as a metaphor for the grain "dying" to "give life to the people". On the other hand, trogain might also be translated as "(female) raven", which is known to be the companion animal of the god Lugh. In Irish mythology, Lugh is the god of justice, kingship, the art of war, and master craftsmanship, as well as the namesake of Lughnasadh. The Old Irish name for the festival, Lugnasad, is a combination of Lug - a variant spelling of Lugh - and the word násad, meaning "festival" or "assembly". Thus, Lughnasadh can be translated as "feast of Lugh"/"Lugh's feast". However, as we will soon see, a large part of the festivities were actually not in honor of Lugh, but his mother, Tailtiu.

Ancient Customs and Rites

Supposedly, Lughnasadh was introduced by Lugh as a funeral celebration for his mother Tailtiu. According to Irish lore, Tailtiu was the wife of Eochaid mac Eirc, the last High King of the Fir Bolg to rule over Ireland. However, upon the invasion of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Fir Bolg were defeated and expelled from their homeland, with King Eochaid mac Eirc being among the casualties. However, Tailtiu survived the death of her husband and the Tuatha Dé Dananns' ascension to power, living on to become the foster mother of Lugh, the illegitimate son of the hero Cian and Ethniu, daughter of the demonic Fomorian leader Balor. Being a kind and hardworking soul, Tailtiu worked tirelessly to improve the living conditions of the people, cutting down forests and clearing the plains of Ireland so they could be used for agriculture. Eventually, however, her endeavors took their toll, and on August 1st, she passed away from exhaustion at Teltown. To commemorate her kindness and everything she had done for the Irish people, Lugh decided to declare the first of August as the time of the yearly mourning festivities for Tailtiu, his foster mother whom he loved so dearly.

From this, we can make various conclusions regarding the symbolic meaning of these myths: Scholars have proposed that Tailtiu may have originally been an Irish earth goddess, being the embodiment of dying vegetation/weed that serves to feed mankind. Furthermore, as Irish folklorist Máire MacNeill observed in her studies, the struggle for a goddess is also a theme present in various rituals of Lughnasadh: Usually, there is a conflict between two gods - one of them being identified as Lugh, while the other is believed to be a figure named Crom Cruach/Crom Dubh - who sometimes fight over a woman called Eithne, who has been theorized to be an ancient earth goddess representing the grain. The roles of the gods may also hint at their original function: In the folkloric context, Crom Cruach is the one to guard the grain as his treasure, not willing to give it up to Lugh who aims to seize it for mankind. This might be a remnant of Crom Cruach's original status as a chthonic deity, since gods and goddesses of the underworld were also thought to be responsible for fertility and growth in ancient times. There are also various surviving legends that associate Crom with a bull, intend on using the animal to sow discord and wreak havoc (sometimes, he turns into a bull himself to battle his adversary). However, they always end in Crom's defeat, with the bull often being sacrificed, consumed, and finally resurrected, which may be related to ancient practices of bull sacrifice. (There are various standing stones called "bull stones" in Ireland which are identified with Crom Cruach, and since human and cattle bones were found in stone circles such as the one at Grange, it is suspected that these places were ancient sacrificial sites.) Lastly, Lugh is also credited Lugh with triumphing over the personification of blight, which can be traced back to the myth of him killing his demonic grandfather Balor. Said to possess a single giant, havoc-wreaking eye, Balor is believed to represent the scorching summer sun as well as drought and blight, being defeated in battle by Lugh who blinds him with a slingshot.

Tailtiu by Wendy Andrew (left) and her foster son Lugh by Ire (right); Tailtiu is depicted with typical symbols of harvest (cornucopia, cow horns) as well as the image of a snake on her dress, an animal associated with healing in Celtic mythology; Lugh shares various characteristics with both the Greek Mercury and the Norse Odin, which can be seen in the attributes he is depicted with (winged sandals/winged helmet for Mercury; spear and raven for Odin)

Although we will most likely never know for sure what the ancient festival looked like, we can reconstruct its rituals from surviving customs and accounts from Irish literature. In a 15th-century version of Tochmarc Emire, one of the earliest mentions of the festival, Lughnasadh is said to commemorate the god Lugh's wedding feast, while in other texts, the origin is either attributed to the mourning of Lugh's wife Nás and her sister Buí, or the funeral games Lugh held in honor of Tailtiu. These games were known as Óenach Tailten (or Áenach Tailten) and were organized each year at Teltown in the Kingdom of Meath. It's estimated they lasted for about two weeks, and like all other customs associated with Celtic seasonal festivals, the ceremonies most likely began on the eve of August 1st. Fitting for an obsequy, it started off with a ceremony to honor the people who had passed during the year, which could take from one to three days. The guests would chant funeral songs known as Guba, followed up by the druids' Cepógs, improvised songs in memory of the dead. As a final act, the deceased would be burned on a gigantic funeral pyre. Afterwards, a universal truce would be declared by the Ollamh Érenn, the chief of bards and poets in Ireland who held a status comparable to that of a High King. Medieval sources confirm that all kings attending the óenach would agree to a ceasefire for the duration of the festival, and any violation of it was considered highly disgraceful. In addition, the occasion was also used as an opportunity to proclaim laws, settle legal disputes, and drawing up new contracts, which was achieved with the help of bards and druids acting as mediators between the rulers and the common people. Once the negotiations were over, yet another massive fire was ignited, signaling that the joyous celebrations following the funeral rites were about to begin: the Tailteann Games.

The nature of these games was very similar to that of the Ancient Olympic Games, featuring a variety of contests in disciplines such as running, hurling, high and long jumping, archery, spear throwing, as well as martial arts competitions in swordfighting, wrestling, and boxing. Swimming contests were held in artificial lakes specifically constructed for this purpose at Teltown, and horse and chariot races were extremely popular among the people (a structure strongly resembling Greek and Roman horse racetracks has also been found near the Heuneburg, a Celtic dig site in Germany dating back to the 6th century BC; this would make it the oldest preserved hippodrome in the world, as well as suggest a high significance of horse racing in Celtic culture). However, the games were not limited to shows of physical prowess: There were contests where participants had to prove their skill in singing, dancing, storytelling and Fidchell (a type of strategic board game), along with competitions to determine the greatest master goldsmiths, jewelers, weavers, and armorers. Aside from enjoying these various entertainments, many guests would also bring goods to exchange and trade them with other people. However, the character of these festivities was not really commercial - rather, the Óenach Tailten were a purely social event, meant to show off the manifold talents of their attendants as well as celebrate community and strengthen social bonds.

Due to this, the gathering was also believed to be an excellent time for matchmaking. We know that in Ireland, Scotland, and the Orkney Isles, trial marriages were a very typical Lughnasadh custom, which would be conducted by a young couple joining hands through a hole in a wooden door (this ritual known as "handfastening" has also become associated with Beltane in modern paganism, although there is no historic basis for this). These trial marriages lasted a year and a day, during which the youths were able to decide whether they wanted to spend their lives together. If the pair did happen to like each other, the marriage would be made formal after the period of time had expired - if not, the engagement would simply be annulled without consequences, and any children that resulted from the union would still be counted among the father's legal heirs.

Meanwhile, in Kildare, people celebrated the Óenach Carmain instead, which was held in honor of the goddess Carman (or Carmun). Scholars believe she may have once been a goddess similar to Tailtiu, although Irish mythology depicts her not as a native of Ireland, but as an invader who came from Athens during the times of the Tuatha Dé Danann. (It's interesting to note that her land of origin is specifically stated as Greece, especially since the Panathenaic Games in Athens share some similarities with the Celtic óenach; this gives room for the consideration that she might have been an import goddess who was villainized later on.) The Óenach Carmain seems to have been a little more focused on agriculture and commerce, featuring markets for food, livestock, and foreign trade.

Aside from the glorious óenach in the cities, it can be surmised there were also some more rural Lughnasadh traditions, varying depending on the locality. We have accounts that cattle was blessed on the eve of Lughnasadh, and that charms would be made for both the livestock and milking equipment which were supposed to last a year. (This is very similar to certain Beltane customs, which were also meant to bring good luck and ensure a plentiful supply of milk throughout the year.) Cows would be milked in the morning, with the milk being collected to be later drunk during a feast. In addition, people would go out to gather bilberries which were also an important part of the festive buffet, and if there were lots of bilberries, it was said that the harvest would be plentiful as well. Special dishes that represented the harvest would be prepared, such as porridge and bread, often including fresh seasonal fruits. In the Scottish Highlands, an oatcake called lunastain would be baked, which is believed to have its origins as a sacrificial offering. It was also tradition to bake a bread from the newly harvested grain, made with a baker's peel of rowan or another sacred type of wood. This bread would be served to the head of the household, who would eat it and then walk sunwise around the cooking fire while chanting a blessing prayer. Finally, everyone would have a communal meal of the freshly harvested foods.

Enjoying a loaf made from the first grain was one of the most common Lughnasadh traditions (Source)

However, there were also rituals that had a more religious, sacred aspect: On Lughnasadh, a variety of ritual dance plays would be re-enacted, usually centering around the god Lugh and his heroic deeds. For example, one play told about Lugh's and Crom Cruach's battle for Eithne, while another revolved around Lugh imprisoning the monster of blight and famine, saving the harvest and seizing it for mankind. In addition, a large, carved stone head was often placed on top of a hill, most likely representing Crom Cruach, after which an actor playing Lugh would symbolically triumph over it.

The sacrifice of a sacred bull was also an integral part of the festivities, followed by people feasting on its flesh as well as some sort of ceremony involving its hide. (According to Irish lore, sleeping in the hide of a sacrificed bull was a common rite of divination among druids, particularly when it came to determining the successor to the title of High King.) Eventually, the ritual was concluded by the bull's symbolic replacement with a younger one, which was most likely meant to represent its resurrection. Since Lughnasadh was the time when the first corn would be cut, there was also an offering of the First Fruits of the year, with the first sheaf of weed being brought to an elevated place where it was buried as a sacrifice to a deity (this indicates the deity was chthonic in nature, since the dwelling of chthonic gods was believed to be beneath the earth). Sometimes, people would also adorn themselves with flowers while ascending the hill, which would then be buried at the summit to signify that summer was ending.

In fact, many Lughnasadh customs took place on mountains or hills. Beginning after sunset, people would make pilgrimages to mounts such as Knocknadobar, Drung Hill, Mount Brandon, Slievecallan, Slieve Donard, Church Mountain, and Croagh Patrick (which was known as Cruachán Aigle back in the day). On many of these mountains, megalithic monuments and stone tombs, so-called cairns, were found, confirming that they have been of high cultural significance for a very long time (in close proximity to Croagh Patrick, archaeologists even discovered remains of a Bronze Age hillfort, dating back to the 8th century BC). People probably came to these remote places to remember their ancestors, and it can be assumed that spiritual ceremonies were performed at the old graves. Also, many hills had a holy well located on top of them, and just like on Imbolc and Beltane, visiting holy wells (colloquially called "clootie wells") was a very common custom on Lughnasadh. Visitors would pray for health while walking sunwise around the well, typically leaving an offering in the form of coins and "clooties" - small pieces of cloth or fabric that would be dipped in the well water and then hung on a nearby tree. Furthermore, the wells were often decorated with flowers to add to the solemn atmosphere.

However, the hilltop gatherings also had a more secular side: In many ways, they were like a smaller version of the óenach, with sporting competitions in weight-throwing, hurling, and horse racing. The tradition of a mock faction fight has also been recorded, involving two groups of young men who would have a contest in bataireacht, a type of Irish martial art that included fighting with sticks called shillelagh. From Scotland, we know of a competition between groups of youths who each built a tower of sods with a flag on top, trying to sabotage the towers of their rivals for a number of days before finally meeting "in battle" at Lughnasadh. Aside from this, various other games were also played at the gatherings, and there was a general merry atmosphere. People would feast, drink, tell stories and dance to folk music, with the typical matchmaking customs also being present. Some of these open-air gatherings also featured bonfires, although they were pretty rare and held less significance than those of Beltane. The celebrations and festivities lasted three days in total, usually being overseen by a chosen representative of the god Lugh. Once the festival came to a close, there would be a ceremony to indicate that the interregnum was over, and the chief god back in his rightful place.

Finally, same as with the other seasonal festivals, there were certain superstitions associated with Lughnasadh, particularly in regard to the weather. The beginning of August was seen as a good time for weather divination, and predictions seem to have been based on atmospheric conditions at Lughnasadh. For example, a thunderstorm with rain and lighting was believed to indicate good growing weather, due to the warm air needed for the storm to form. (In Irish lore, thunder and lightning are associated with the god Lugh, and the sparks produced are believed to stem from his grandfather Balor whom he slayed.) However, since the weather around Lughnasadh was generally very unstable and torrential rain was no rarity, it was all the more important to harvest the corn quickly, as it could otherwise be spoiled by floods. In fact, these heavy torrents were so typical of this period of the year that they became later known as "Lammas floods" in several proverbs (Lammas being the Christian equivalent of Lughnasadh). Furthermore, there are sayings such as "August needs the dew as much as men need bread" and "After Lammas, corn ripens as much by night as by day", indicating that the abundant moisture was essential to the ripening process of crops.

Garland Sunday and the legend of St. Patrick and Crom Dubh

After the 9th century, the Óenach Tailten were only held irregularly, and in the wake of the Norman invasion of Ireland, the custom died out completely. Still, many traditions associated with Lughnasadh survived the decline of the ceremonial games. With the advent of Christianity in Ireland, many of them were recast as Christian rites: For example, the custom of climbing mounts and hills on Lughnasadh stayed alive in the shape of Christian pilgrimage routes, the most prominent being the ascension of Croagh Patrick. (According to folklore, Croagh Patrick is the place where Ireland's patron saint, Saint Patrick, fasted for 40 days, chasing away a flock of demonic birds that attacked him on the mountain with his bell; in other versions, it's said he banished all snakes from the island, which have been theorized to stand symbolically for pagan gods.)

Traditionally, the festival of Lughnasadh took place on August 1st, but over the course of the centuries, all festivities and gatherings have been moved to the Sunday nearest to it (either the last Sunday of July or the first Sunday of August). This might have been influenced by the adoption of the Gregorian calendar, as well as the Christian custom that Sunday was a day off work anyway - thus, it was naturally more suited for large assemblies. Yet another factor may have been that the harvest season was a very busy time for farmers, and since the weather conditions tended to be unpredictable around this time, it was probably wise to reap the harvest as soon as possible and don't let a regular work day go to waste.

Over time, the original name Lughnasadh was abandoned, and the festival was dubbed various regionally differing names, such as "Lammas Sunday", "Bilberry Sunday", "Mountain Sunday", or "Garland Sunday", the latter being derived from the widespread custom of strewing garlands of flowers onto festive mounts (this is very reminiscent of some Beltane customs, which also involve strewing about flowers for good luck). No matter the moniker it was known by, the festival continued to be an important date that marked the beginning of the harvest, and every farmer was expected to provide the people with fresh potatoes, bacon, and cabbage on this day - otherwise, they would be called a "wind farmer" for their lack of skill in husbandry. Likewise, it was considered improper to dig out any potatoes prior to this date, which was either seen as proof of economic mismanagement or neediness.

In some regions, the day was also known as "Crom Dubh Sunday", referring to a famous legend of St. Patrick overcoming a figure named Crom Dubh. Depending on the version, Crom Dubh is either a pagan chieftain, a god, a pirate, or a robber - in the end, however, he is always either defeated or converted by St. Patrick. It is highly likely that Crom Dubh is identical with Crom Cruach, the suspected chthonic god whom scholars assume to be similar to the Roman Hades and Greek Pluto. In the tale, Crom Dubh is described as "the lord of light and darkness" and master over the seasons, and is said to keep a fire burning near his property, throwing unlucky trespassers into it as punishment. (This is assumed to be a remnant of ancient sacrificial rites; there is the folk belief that the term "dubh"/"dua" means sacrifice, although Crom Dubh more likely translates to "black crooked one".) Sometimes, he is also said to possess a granary or a bull. Considering all of these parallels with the myth of Lugh's victory over Crom Cruach, it can be seen as a Christian adaptation of it, with St. Patrick replacing the Irish patron god.

One version of the story goes like this: "Once, there lived a chieftain in northern Ireland, in what is today known as the County Mayo. He was a resident of a place that is now called Dún Pádraig (Downpatrick Head), where he lived in a house by the sea, at a site known as Dún Briste. His name was Crom Dubh, and he is said to have been an extremely vicious, wicked, and obstinate man, only surpassed in evilness by his two sons, Téideach and Clonnach. In addition, Crom Dubh possessed two hounds, named Coinn Iothair and Saidhthe Suaraighe, which were as malicious as any dogs ever get. He used to tie them to the posts of his door, and if any poor soul should trespass on his property, he would unleash them and send them after them. For all the intruders who escaped the lacerating maws of his hounds, there was an even more brutal punishment waiting for them: At the edge of the cliff close to his home, he kept a large fire burning, which he used to throw any fugitives into the flames.

Crom Dubh, his sons and his hounds were infamous for their wickedness, and the common folk were so terrified of them they would tremble in fear at the mention of their names - and if they so much as heard the bark of a dog, people would seek shelter in their underground dwellings, fearing the arrival of Crom Dubh and his entourage. Despite his growing age, Crom Dubh remained quick as the wind and nimble as a hare, and regularly, he would go through the countryside to collect taxes from his subjects. Every time he did so, he would send his sons with his hounds ahead, who would announce to the residents that Crom Dubh was coming to collect his taxes. Each person had to pay as much as they could afford, which would all be loaded onto a sledge-like yoke Crom Dubh was dragging behind him. If anyone refused to pay their dues, they would be taken before Crom Dubh the next day - while sitting by his fire, Crom Dubh would pass judgement upon them, ending with the usual sentence of throwing the culprit into the flames.

Many plans were forged to overthrow Crom Dubh, but he was assisted by a leannán sidhe, a "fairy sweetheart", providing him with arcane knowledge and power, so he was able to overcome each and every attempt on his life. People would've given all they had for him to finally be put to an end, but alas, he and his minions held the power, so all they could do was to endure the ever-worsening persecution. Left without any hope or relief, the people had no other choice but to submit to Crom Dubh, because despite their detestation for him, it was still him who brought them the light of day, the darkness of the night, and the change of seasons.

This majestic, about 50 meters high sea stack known as Dún Briste is allegedly the place where Crom Dubh once lived, located just off the coast of Downpatrick Head near Ballycastle, County Mayo (Source)

One day, St. Patrick was going through Ireland, fulfilling his missionary obligation and baptizing many people. Eventually, he came to a place called Fó Choill (Foghill), an area that was densely forested back in the day. There, he could only convince a few inhabitants to listen to his preaching, but those that did took the new faith and let themselves be christened at a nearby well. After Patrick drew the sign of Christ on their foreheads, some pagans began telling him about Crom Dubh and his evil ways, asking him if it was in his and the Holy Father's power to put him in his place or make him convert to Christianity.

St. Patrick complied with their pleas, making his way to the dwelling of Crom Dubh. When he arrived there, Crom Dubh and his son Téideach didn't even notice him at first, as the two of them were engaged in a wrestling match. Saidhthe Suaraighe laid strechted out next to them, and only when the dog gave a howling bark did Crom Dubh and his son turn, seeing St. Patrick and his company of guardians approaching behind them. Subsequently, they charged at them, clapping with their hands to order the dog to attack Patrick's party. Meanwhile, Téideach whistled for Coinn Iotair, which had been taken on a hunting trip by Clonnach, but came running as swift as the wind when called for. Thus, Crom Dubh and his son set their dogs on the foreigner, unaware of who he was or where he came from. The two hounds came at Patrick with foaming mouths, raised fur, and a menacing blue light in their eyes, but the saint remained calm and drew a circle around him with his crozier. Just as the dogs were about to seize him, Patrick spoke a few holy words of protection, and the second he had uttered them, the two animals ceased all hostility, much to the dismay of Crom Dubh. They laid down their ears and wagged their tails, jumping at Patrick and licking his toes, with the saint returning the favor by stroking them. Afterwards, he continued to go after Crom Dubh, the two dogs now following behind him. Crom Dubh fled in the direction of his fire, hoping to lure Patrick there and throw him into it like all his other victims. However, St. Patrick had been forewarned about the fire's power and stayed away from him, instead taking a stone and drawing the sign of the cross on it. He cast the stone into the middle of the flames, banishing the fire to the deepest depths of the ground, so low that a hole called Poll Na Seantainne ("hole of the old fire") can be seen there to this day.

Crom Dubh, seeing that his fire had gone out and his hounds had disobeyed him - which was completely unheard of before - fled to his house together with his son, St. Patrick following after them. Patrick talked to Crom Dubh through the closed door, doing his best to convince him to take on a more righteous path, but Crom Dubh refused to listen to his words, and neither did he let himself be baptized. Still, he was unable to put up any resistance against Patrick, as the word of God was more powerful than the witchcraft of Crom Dubh's fairy sweetheart.

Furious, Crom Dubh and his son began snapping at the saint, who promptly rammed his crozier into the ground and split the cliff in half the house was built on, separating it from the mainland - henceforth, this cliff was known as Dún Briste, meaning "broken fort". Being cut off from the mainland by a swath of sea, Crom Dubh and Téideach were left to die miserably, with midges and crows feasting on their bodies. When Clonnach, Crom Dubh's second son, saw what had happened upon his return, he set fire to the surrounding cliffs out of fear of Patrick. However, the cliffs blazed so violently that Clonnach was soon trapped in the flames, burning to a heap of ashes himself.

Afterwards, St. Patrick returned to Fó Choill, where he was greeted by droves of people showering him with thanks for putting Crom Dubh to justice. The saint took all of them to a well nearby, not leaving a single person unbaptized. In their celebratory spirits, the people thoroughly cleansed the walls of the well and the area around it, putting up forked sticks and tree branches with white and blue ribbons tied to them. They fell onto their knees, speaking prayers of gratitude to God and hailing St. Patrick for putting an end to Crom Dubh's dominion, after which everyone drank three sips from the well's water.

From then on, people would always make a pilgrimage to Cill Chuimin (Kilcummin) each year, the place where the well was located, coming together from far and wide to celebrate the anniversary of Crom Dubh's defeat. The date was always the last Sunday of the seven month, the month the Irish speakers called Lúnasa, while the Sunday was known as Crom Dubh's Sunday - to the English speakers, however, this Sunday became known as Garland Sunday."

Legend has it that Dún Briste, an island consisting of a steep chunk of cliff that has broken off from the coast near Downpatrick Head, is the piece of land where Crom Dubh's once lived and which St. Patrick separated from the mainland. Lying just a few miles north of Ballycastle in the County Mayo, the site is a tourist attraction to this day, and many people come to gaze from the edge of Poll Na Seantainne - the blowhole allegedly created by St. Patrick when he threw his stone into Crom Dubh's fire - into the turbulent sea below.

Whether one wants to believe it or not, the legend of Crom Dubh stands as a testament that despite the typical message of the superiority of Christianity, the old Irish myths did not die out, but rather were reinterpreted with the figures being replaced by different actors. Instead of trying to suppress and eradicate native Irish culture, the new Christian traditions merged with the old pagan ones, creating a unique sub-branch of Christianity.

Modern traditions and Christian Lammas

Up until the 20th century, old Lughnasadh traditions were still widely practiced in Ireland. In 1924, there was even an attempt to revive the Tailteann Games as a modern sporting competition held shortly after the Summer Olympics. The Games were primarily open to people of Irish birth or ancestry from all over the world, but some prominent athletes who had participated in the Olympics were also invited as guests. The event included both traditional sports as well as modern ones, such as races with motorcycles, speedboats, cars, and airplanes (the only disciplines that were excluded were soccer, rugby, and hockey, as they were deemed too "un-Irish" for the liking of the hosts). Furthermore, there was a vast cultural program, consisting of artistic competitions in literature, poetry, music, and dancing, in addition to various commercial displays and exhibitions of arts and crafts. The Tailteann Games were held in the years 1924, 1928, and 1932, and even managed to garner a significant amount of public attention. However, when the political party Fianna Fáil won the elections of 1932, the Games lost their financial support, as they were closely associated with the previous ruling party, Cumann na nGaedheal, and their post-Civil War politics. A committee was established to examine the possibility of staging any more Tailteann Games in the future, and despite an event being technically deemed possible in 1939, Irish politician Éamon de Valera used the split among Irish athletics federations as a pretense to delay further consideration. With the onset of the Second World War in 1939, any prospect of holding an event in the near future naturally faded away, and afterwards, the issue was never brought up again.

Nevertheless, some of the old mountain pilgrimage routes stayed alive into the 21st century, the most famous being the one to the top of Croagh Patrick, colloquially known as "The Reek". On Reek Sunday, a modern name for Garland Sunday, thousands of pilgrims come to climb to the top of the mountain, a journey that the most pious ones undertake barefoot. The procession is always led by the Archbishop of Tuam, who leads them to a small chapel at a summit where a mass is held. During their ascent, some people commit "rounding rituals", which involve walking sunwise around landmarks and monuments on the mountain, for example the cairn of Leacht Benáin ("Benan's grave"), Leaba Phádraig ("Patrick's bed"), Reilig Mhuire ("Mary's cementry"), and the summit's circular perimeter. Furthermore, people still make pilgrimages to holy wells, such as Tobernault in the County Sligo, where a special service is held on Garland Sunday.

Ever since the Neolithic Age, Croagh Patrick has been of spiritual significance, being considered a holy mountain by Ancient Celts and modern Irish Christians alike (Source)

The Puck Fair, a festival held each year in Killorglin, County Kerry from August 10th to 12th, is also believed to go back to Lughnasadh. At the beginning, a wild goat is captured and brought into town, which is then crowned "King Puck" while a local girl is chosen as the "Queen of Puck" (the goat has been hypothesized to be an ancient fertility symbol). Afterwards, the goat is put into a cage positioned on an elevated platform, where it stays for the next three days. Traditionally, a horse fair will take place on the first day of the festival and a cattle fair on the second. Finally, on the third day, the goat will be released from its enclosure and brought back to the mountains. The festivities include a parade, folk music, dancing, various workshops for arts and crafts, as well as a large market where all kinds of vendors to offer their wares to the numerous tourists that visit each year. In recent years, similar festivals have also been introduced in other regions of Ireland, such as Gweedore, Sligo, Brandon, and Rathangan. In Craggaunowen, an open-air museum in the County Clare, there is a yearly Lughnasadh festival featuring historical re-enactors. They portray various aspects of daily life in Gaelic Ireland, complete with replica clothing, artifacts, weapons, and jewelry. In 2011, the Irish television channel RTÉ even broadcasted a "Lughnasa Live" program from Craggaunowen. Aside from this, a similar Lughnasadh Fair is held in Carrickfergus Castle each year, one of the best preserved medieval castles in Northern Ireland.

As for other Celtic countries, the people of Wales celebrate a festival known as Gŵyl Awst (pronounced gwill oust), translating to "feast of August". Although a lot of old Welsh customs are unfortunately discontinued, but it can be concluded that Gŵyl Awst is an agricultural festival, with some regional differences: For example, in Cardiganshire, the central focus isn't on harvesting the fields, but rather the ffest y bugeiliad ("shepherd's feast"), which was mainly for cowherds and shepherds as sheep would also be shorn around this time. Meanwhile, in areas with a greater focus on arable farming, there was the tradition of dwrn fedi ("first reaping"), which had all farmers of the community coming together. The reapers would assist each other and coordinate their work so they could harvest the fields of a single farm each day, and upon fulfilling their task, the gathered bounty was exchanged and shared with the other workers as a sign of gratitude. At Gŵyl Awst, various special treats would also be enjoyed, many of them including oats, such as Siot, a type of crumbled oatcake steeped in buttermilk. Furthermore, we know from similar mountain climbing customs similar to those of Lughnasadh from Brecknockshire: On August 1st, pilgrims from would make their way to the Beacons, a mountain range between the counties of Carmarthenshire and Glamorgan. Their destination was the lake Llyn y Fan Fach, where they would watch out for the Lady of the Lake and collect a few flasks of healing water to take them home with them. This tradition most likely originated from an old legend about a maiden who arose from the lake and married a mortal man, begetting a son named Rhiwallon who was taught the art of healing by his mother and later became the progenitor of the famous physicians of Myddfai - a story which seems quite reminiscent of the myths about Celtic fountain spirits.

In Brittany, there is a similar festival called Gouel an Eost, a name possibly derived from Gŵyl Awst. The event is meant to celebrate the harvest, featuring an exhibition of old tractors and harvesting machines, as well as people who re-enact the traditional practices of threshing, plowing, bread-making, and other old-fashioned professions. It's meant to be a vivid window into the lives of farmers from centuries past, portraying their sorrows, their joys, and the solidarity and teamwork among their community. In addition, visitors have the opportunity to behold parade with 400 costumed extras, taste Breton specialties such as crêpes and rata (a type of stew made from meat and vegetables that was eaten by farmers), and enjoy folk music and dancing by watching performances of local Celtic circles and bagadoù bands (musical ensembles featuring bagpipes, bombards, and drums). To this date, the festival takes place each year in the commune of Plougoulm, celebrating Celtic and Breton culture alike.

Meanwhile, in England, the harvest festival became Christianized as Lammas. (Interestingly, the feast was sometimes dubbed "Gule of August" in medieval England and Scotland, which may be derived from Gŵyl Awst as well). Lammas Day, also known as Loaf Mass Day ("loaf" referring to bread and "mass" to the Eucharist), is a Christian holiday celebrated primarily in the English-speaking countries of the Northern Hemisphere. It involves the blessing of the First Fruits of harvest, and usually, a loaf of bread baked from the new crops is brought to the church to be blessed. (There are accounts that the blessed loaf was used for protective rituals in Anglo-Saxon times: The bread would be broken into four parts, which farmers would place at all four corners of a barn to protect the stored grain.) Church processions to bakeries are also a common custom, with those working there receiving blessings from the Christian clergy. In the town of Exeter in the County Devon, people still celebrate a yearly Lammas Fair, a tradition that supposedly goes back 900 years. It starts with a procession led by the Lord Mayor of the town, carrying a large pole adorned with colorful ribbons, flowers, and a white, stuffed glove on top. Once they arrive at the guildhall, the Lord Mayor will read a proclamation from King Edward III, declaring the fair open, while the pole with the glove will be hung over the building for the three-day duration of the festival (the glove is an old symbol of royal protection, signaling that the city is open for trade). Although the event is held on the first Thursday in July rather than August 1st nowadays, it still bears a lot of resemblance with the fairs and markets typical of Lughnasadh.

Some remnants of Lughnasadh even carried over to the Irish diaspora: Many families with Irish roots still tend to choose August as the time to host family reunions and parties. However, due to modern work schedules, such events have often been to adjacent holidays, for example Indendence Day (July 4th) in the USA.

Nevertheless, the influence of Lughnasadh is still alive today, and although it may not have garnered the same public attention as Beltane or Samhain, the harvest festival was undoubtedly a very important occasion for our ancestors. So, perhaps we should take a moment to value the fruits, vegetables, and grain that feed us, and remember to not take earth's bounty for granted. Also, make sure to show appreciation to your fellow human beings: If your friends are in need of help, be ready to lend a hardworking hand, and if someone does you a favor, always remember their kindness.

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Alright, that's a wrap! I had a lot of fun researching about Lughnasadh, especially since it gave me the opportunity to shed a little more light on this somewhat unknown festival. Thus, I hope you enjoyed reading this article as well, and if you did, I would be delighted if you stayed tuned for the last issue on November 1st. Next up: the Samhain rematch! ;-)

#lughnasadh #paganism #celtic paganism #tailtiu goddess #lugh god #crom cruach #crom dubh #st patrick #garland sunday #lammas #harvest festival

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goodieghosty · 2 years

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Goodie goodie! Imagine the trojan war in God au!?

Like Virgil being tho only neutral party because he does not care. But all his friends pick a side and not all the same side and it is hard enough that he is made referee for everyone else's squabble! And when it's finally done they have to make a big thing out of Odyseus getting home to his wife and kid!? Come on guys!

I kinda want that to predate Orpheus but not by a lot so he can say hey what was up with that and V apostates some divine wine and hes like "I'm too sober to gef through this drama again do buckle up and you better be ready for some serious distracting later if you don't want me grumpy all night."

V getting a headache at the mere Mention of anything Trogan or Odysseus related. But laughs when many, many years later the condom brand is made.

#goodie talks #godsides au #godsides au asks #suggestive

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waitlonger · 2 years

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@roshale rsvp’d, “control... is an illusion.”

she’s shockingly rambunctious during the hunt. her newborn days are long behind her, yet dolores continues to leave rosalie behind with wreckless abandon ... with little to show for it. her excitement is great, but her tactic and experience is lacking. dolores is well provided for in her coven, though not for the sake of generousity. their little lamb has no reason to stray from the flock if she never learns to feast on wolves. tonight’s freedom is a rarity.

dolores eventually allows rosalie to catch up, and for once, does not scurry into the waning moonlight. she is expecting a scolding — frankly, dolores is entirely deserving of one — but instead rosalie recalls a conversation they were having prior, before elation and primal urge demanded that dolores run and run until she can’t anymore.

the lamb coven is nothing like the cullens. they don’t mingle with humans, they don’t find a community and call it a home. if dolores suggested substituing the coven’s diet with animal blood, leroy would rip her head clean from her neck.

leroy is no carlisle, yet — dolores likes carlisle all the more for it. she has not been offered sanctuary among the cullens ... yet. she is tempted to plead her case to their coven’s leader before the lambs depart from the west coast. it'll be any day now; dolores’s time to act is short, but she is terrifed of the fallout that will occur for abandoning one coven for another.

the cullens are good people, and that's why dolores can’t drag them into a fight that will fall entirely on her shoulders. she is no helen of troy, and there will be no trogan war.

“you don’t understand.” dolores creeps forward; she doesn’t bolt from her companion, but allows the moon’s glow to dance over her skin.

she closes her eyes. “and it’s too long of a story to explain. please, believe me. i have my reasons, rosalie.”

#me frantically dropping in as much verse lore as i possibly can #since i'm too lazy to write up a proper verses page #ANSWERED.#AU: TWILIGHT.#roshale

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illuminaax · 1 year

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Hi! This was a free write turned introduction for one of the most overpowered OCs I have ever made.

He's a part of the Marvel universe obvs, but his story is much darker than the normal films.

T͟r͟i͟g͟g͟e͟r͟ W͟a͟r͟n͟i͟n͟g͟s͟: (TW:) Includes non-temporary death, mentions of guns, violence, domestic abuse, evil aliens, a potential gary sue character if he wasn't so tortured mentally and physically, past mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of blood, mentions of the war (first and second, no detail)

I hope you enjoy it, if you like it i might put out at least the first real chapter I have for this AU.

Rumours of the Demigod have been around for thousands and thousands of years.

The fated magiks wielder of the Earthly plane who became Immortal through his lifetime of practicing magiks. A man who lived only to be as neutral as possible until it was his time.

There were countless prophecies of the Demigod on all worlds, though nothing gave away his legal name or exactly how old he really was.

The man had protected the human race since he crossed dimensions thousands and thousands of years ago. When he'd come to this dimension, this universe, this version of Earth, the Demigod had been a normal man. A man who had gone by the name Diego Damonte.

The man behind the myth had come across the spiritual magikal being by complete accident, he'd been trying to help a completely different magikal being to stay safe, but he hadn't known she was being hunted. He was a hunter himself, but he only ever hunted for the food that he needed to keep himself alive. That was the one good thing that his no-good of a father had taught him.

He hadn't even known that magikal beings existed until an injured, pony-sized fluffy, four-legged creature with a beak and three pairs of feathered wings and a long, prehensile fluffy tail almost twice the size of its body had appeared at the entrance to the cave he'd lived in at the time. He'd learnt later, after he'd died protecting the creature from the hunters, and then been brought back to life by the glowing blue nymph which had been about the size of his middle finger (who had literally slapped him across the face to bring him back to life and healed all his wounds with said slap), that the creature who had been kidnapped by the hunters after he'd died from multiple gunshot wounds had been called a Shapräk.

He'd later saved the Shapräk from the hunters with the help of the little light-blue nymph who had bound her incredible magikal potential and power to him. The Shapräk, in return had let him take the vials of golden blood that the hunters had drained from her, the golden blood was known for its insane healing properties when applied to a human wound, so three vials of her blood was more than enough to save his human life if he ever came to harm again.

Throughout the early decades of the nymph binding itself to him, the nymph taught him how to wield her power effectively and efficiently for whatever he needed, and she enjoyed her life being tied to his earthly body and soul, saving people and ending some of the most brutal wars, getting a job to pay the rent and the first time meeting their familiar, who Diego had named the boisterous, talkative, sarcastic, quite frankly annoying little German Shepherd pup Mars after he had talked in front of a Trogan leader and started the Trogan War with his sarcastic insults.

Mars, however, after only 12 years of life, was cursed to die, but Diego countered the curse and now, every time that he dies his soul enters a new German Shepherd body to live again, and the Demigod has to find the pup and return the knowledge of his previous lives to him, and allow him to speak human English like before, only for the dog to die again when his new body reaches age 12.

The Demigod only actually gained immortality when he met the first Sorcerer Supreme, back in Ancient Mesopotamia where he'd been blessing the Sumerians and saving the world for the sixty-fifth time. He'd had to absorb a Power Infinity Stone to stop the alien named Alfernda from destroying all of humanity with it, saving the Sorcerer Supreme of the time from certain death and becoming unable to age as a consequence. Another consequence was all his and the nymph's powers tripling in power, which made him the most powerful being on the earth for about three-thousand-years until another alien with a power stone fell to Earth and the Demigod fought long and hard, and eventually killed the alien who had brain washed 90 percent of the general population of Earth using the Mind Stone, which Diego kept for safe keeping.

Only a thousand years later, however, a very young Loki had tried to get a hold of it, and forced the Demigod's hand, and the Demigod had to absorb the stone to keep Loki's grubby little hands off it. Diego ended up with telepathy and an ability to telepathically communicate with any and all lifeforms, then a lifeform from across the universe about two hundred years later had begun to communicate with the Demigod through his mind, and visions of the future.

Loki and the Demigod stayed in touch throughout the years, and between the Demigod and his mother Frigga, Loki was taught how to harness the magiks he had running through his veins. With the Demigod as a father figure and confidant, Loki grew to be a playful trickster, master of lies like the Demigod was, sure, but he was, mostly respectful to others, even though his father was never a force for good in his life, and only ended up neglecting Loki for Thor, but luckily enough for Loki, Heimdall was good enough to let Loki go to the Demigod when he needed time away or comfort from the harsh way his father treated him.

Through visions, the Demigod was told of the way Odin treated Loki, and on one occasion, the Demigod teleported himself into Asgard and appeared directly in between Odin and the cowering Loki, and threw the Allfather back against the opposite wall, eyes glowing a fierce light blue, and he left the Allfather pinned against the wall, kneeling down to soothe Loki and teleport him to the Asgard healers, only then did he let Odin fall back onto his feet. He stood guard at Loki's bedside until he was healed again, and when Odin ordered his men to attack the Demigod, the man simply raised an impenetrable energy barrier at the door to the room which only let the healers and Frigga in and out.

Frigga has heard of the Demigod from loads of stories of Loki's and so she talked Odin down, and asked politely about where Mars had been at the time. The Demigod told her that Mars was doing his dying thing again, and he'd been about to go find the pup when he sensed Loki's distress through the realm barriers, and came to look after his apprentice.

When Loki awoke, he hugged the Demigod, and finally, the Demigod's eyes stopped glowing the fierce blue, and he dissipated the energy barrier, hugging the small teen back. He was pardoned by Frigga on account that he was helping her son. He returned home after making sure Odin would know what would happen should he need to protect Loki again from him, and if he heard of anything so much as touching his apprentice he would be back, and next time it wouldn't just be to pin him against a wall.

It appeared that his threat had been more than enough to stop Odin, and Heimdall still allowed Loki to visit him, because the next time, Loki brought Thor with him, since his older brother had been at battle practice when the Demigod had teleported to Asgard.

The Demigod ended up sparring with Thor as well as continuing to teach Loki magik. He practically adopted those two boys, but when they got too busy, they only had so much time for their Earthly father figure.

Everything was peaceful until the First World War, in which the Demigod did nothing but tried to protect the lives of innocents on both sides. Thankfully, the countries sorted it all out between themselves, and the Demigod's wooden log cabin in the middle of nowhere in Canada, had been kept safe thanks to Canada being, overall, very neutral in the war.

Just after the war, however, the being on the other side of the Universe his him with a series of very intense visions which depicted years into the future, a man from now fighting aliens alongside a group of misfits nicknamed the Avengers. One of which was Thor. The blonde from now was to be born in several weeks' time, he was to ensure that future came to be, and to avoid the deaths and pain of the other people involved directly, or indirectly with said group of Misfits.

And so, he did.

#avengers oc #avengers fanfiction #the avengers #avengers fandom #Avengers #fanfic #adoptivefamily #adoptive father #writing #trans writers #Trans male writers #loki #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #Bad dad odin #Odin #Demigod #tortured

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fluri4life · 5 years

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-_- Achilles -_-

My favorite thing from the Trojan War is how Thetis tried so hard to keep Achilles from battle, dressed him up as a woman and shipped him off to an island (Skyros), yet he ruined that by getting a girl (Diedamia) pregnant.

Moral of the Story: Keep It In Your Pants

#achilles #trogan war #damnit achilles #you had one (1) job #greek #greek mythology

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alex3carr3 · 3 years

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#homer's iliad #the iliad #homer #iliad memes #greek mythology #achilles #troy story #trojan war #literature #helen of troy #trogan #patroclus #iliad

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awful-ninja · 5 years

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Correct me if I'm wrong here but, The Trojan war? Were condom companies really going off on each other like that?

#hue #trojan war #greek mythology #im a terrible person #i just wanted to know if the trogan war was really started bc some men felt entitled to a woman....#but i got exicted #it happens

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greekbros · 3 years

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"greek-Bros": Unfortunate Events

*Several hours before the The Trojan War begins*

Aphrodite: Are-ware pwease help me! Your dad isn't helping me make sure Paris and Helen stay together and your sister Athena is being a total bitch again. Can you help me defend Troy? 🥺

Ares: *mouthful of roasted goat* yeah sure bae.

*later*

Ares: *having a fucking blast with the war, slaughtering every living thing in front of him (including some fellow Trogans)* THIS IS THE BEST WAR EVER :D *gleefully continues his gore filled onslaught*

Athena: *practically smelling her losses on the battle field to Ares* Not on MY watch. *Literally posses Diomedes Danny Phantom style*

Diomedes: *screams the song of his people while having no context or control of where and what he is doing and probably feeling the equivalent of doing speedballs after taking redbull shots* AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH *stabs Ares in the kidney*

Ares: *takes a few seconds to realize what happened and turns around* ....that wasn't very cash money of you there buddy.

Diomedes: *while still possessed by Athena but somehow is speaking in a demonic voice* GREECE SHALL WIN AND I SHALL STRIP YOU OF YOUR TITLE AS A GOD, ARES. I'm going to drink your blood and feast as I roast your heart and liver on an open flame I shall relish in your merciless defeat you spineless, WORTHLESS bastard.

Ares: .....ok no....THAT was VERY not cash money of you.

*later*

Zeus: *pretending everything he knows and loves isn't being brutally torn at the seams by this pointless and ridiculous* ....

Ares: DAD ATHENA POSSED A MORTAL AND STABBED ME!

Zeus: Were you wearing Trojan armor-

Ares: Y-

Zeus: -than you deserved it.

Ares: D:<

#greek mythology #greek gods #hellenistic #greek bros #greek myth memes #greek posts #ares #Zeus #athena #the illiad #the trojan war

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spirospxro-archive · 5 years

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Aphrodite does acknowledge her hand is causing the Trogan War, and deep down she feels regret for it. She cast her favor with Paris and in turn the people of Troy. Those who earn Aphrodite’s favor are showered with her love and aid. She regrets the lives that were lost, because they were not lives she wanted to lose. Yet if you ask her how she feels she will she tell you feels no regret, for a God should not falter over the decisions they have made.

#Headcanon;; Aphrodite

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nerdygayboi · 5 years

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My brain made some connections between songs and parts of 'The Song of Achilles' by Madeline Miller, because I am a nerd and that's what I do.

Song for when Achilles is gracefully fighting in The Trogan War and Patroclus just watches: 'vs Battle Legends Red &Blue' from 'Pokemon Sun&Moon'. Fast paced, beautiful, sounds like fighting a god; perfect fit in my opinion.

Music for post 'Best of The Myrmidons' Achilles, who goes berserk: 'vs The Elite Four' from 'Pokemon Sun&Moon'. Chaotic, heavy, dark, feels like a nightmare. If that doesn't fit a demi-god slaughtering potentially hundreds of people while hunting one man like a starving wolf hunts a rabbit, I don't know what does.

That feeling at the end of the story, when you sit back and just let it all sink into you: 'Ancient Stones' from 'The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim' soundtrack, specifically performed on guitar by Isac Saleh on Youtube.

On a related note, Achilles is a perfect nickname for a male Arcanine; it can use 'extreme speed', it's meant to be. And you can bet your sweet roll I'd name a midday-form Lycanroc, Patroclus.

#the song of achilles #patrochilles

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friskynotebook · 6 years

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I Will Lay Me Down: A Han/Leia Fanfiction

With the warmer weather comes new Han/Leia fanfic from me!

After a long H/L hiatus (I haven’t written them since Christmas!), I managed to get my writing mojo back thanks to all the lovely ladies in the Discord server. I’m sure I’m forgetting people, but special thanks to @erindarroch, @jhgraham, @jainadurron, @corellian-smuggler, @jediofgrace, @galactic-starlight, @knightedrogue, @swimmergirl71, @zyra, FranAnubis81, and @jennycbs!

This is a pre-ESB fic set on Hoth: the cold’s getting to Leia’s nose, but she isn’t doing anything about it. Han decides to take action.

Special shout-out to @hansoloorgana and my space twin @fisherford40 for the beta work! Thank you for making this fic the best it can possibly be—love you both!

The title comes from “Bridge Over Troubled Water” by Simon and Garfunkel. You can listen to my favourite version here.

With all that said, on with the show!

Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.

Leia gritted her teeth as she worked at her data station. Why did we have to pick the coldest planet in the galaxy to set up our base? When other beings talked about the hells freezing over, she was now convinced they were talking about Hoth. Since they’d been here, the temperature had never gotten above -20 C—without the protective gear High Command scraped together in short order, the rebels would have surely froze to death.

Which is certainly what my nose is doing right now.

Leia sniffled again as she worked out coordinates on her datapad. She looked up, her eyes darting from side to side. I don’t think anyone heard me . . . She sighed. It seemed so minor, but the constant stream of mucus threatening to run down her face at any given moment annoyed her to no end. But it wasn’t just the actual sniffling—it was the sound. She was a reserved person—the Alderaani are, were, are reserved people. Combine that with a lifetime in the public eye as both a princess and a senator, and it’s safe to say she didn’t like drawing attention to herself with noises that, well, she couldn’t control.

Sniff. Leia thought back to her “princess lessons” when she was still in kindergarten with her father’s sisters. Her aunt Rouge in particular hated anything related to bodily fluids—during a particularly bad cold, she’d gently slapped Leia’s wrist whenever she sniffled or wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Leia, that’s unbecoming of a princess!”

After that disastrous lesson, her mother had given her a silk handkerchief embroidered with her initials. “For when you need to clean yourself up and can’t escape to a ‘fresher.” Breha had smiled at her sick daughter and used the hankie to wipe her face.

Leia had still carried it with her, though she rarely used it. No matter what she was doing or who she was with, it was something that reminded her of her parents and her heritage—their everlasting faith and love in her, and the support of her people. That was what carried her through.

The day she left Alderaan to deliver the stolen Death Star plans, she was in a rush to pack a bag. As she hastily shoved the necessities in her small nerf leather suitcase, her silk handkerchief fell on the ground. Only noticing it as she headed for her bedroom door, she sighed. I’ll just grab it when I come back—

Leia gasped a little, the thought taking her aback. She swallowed and composed herself, focusing on her screen. Hoping her aunt Rouge wouldn’t strike her down for such an act, she wiped her nose delicately on the back of her hand.

______________________________________________________________

Leia threw the latest mysterious handkerchief on top of the ever-growing pile on the single chair in her quarters. How in the seven hells do they keep showing up? She shook her head at the language she had used. Too much time with scoundrels.

She sat on her bed, wracking her brain with any reason as to why these presents started showing up at her door. The majority of the rebels either respected her too much or were too afraid of her to play pranks on her. The Rogues, maybe? No, this was far too easy and therefore unsatisfactory for that wild bunch.

Which left her with two options: Luke or Han. She turned over to the hankie pile and picked up a few—two were cotton, the other silk. Though Han definitely had a softer side she’d been seeing more and more of over the past year, the quality of the fabrics led her to believe Luke was the one with the special deliveries.

She tossed them back on the pile and laid down on the bed, determined to talk to him in the morning.

______________________________________________________________

“Luke?” Leia slid into the seat in front of Luke’s in the mess hall. As always, he was the first person in the mess, drinking his blue milk and eating his Vakiir eggs and Panna cakes.

“Morning Leia!” He grinned and took a sip of caf. “Sleep alright?”

“I did,” she replied, absently tapping the pads of her fingers on the table. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, you can ask me anything!” He pushed his tray over to her, wanting to share his food with her.

Leia pushed it back. “Have you been . . . leaving me things? Outside my quarters?”

He looked taken aback. “No, not at all!”

“Are you sure? You haven’t left presents for me from time to time?”

“No!” he said, squaring his shoulders slightly. “What kind of presents have you been getting? Why would someone leave things outside your quarters?”

Leia smiled at his protectiveness. “It’s nothing bad,” she reassured him. “Whoever it is, they’ve been leaving me handkerchiefs. Nice ones, actually.” She started picking at her shirtsleeve. “Last night, they left me two cotton ones and a silk one.”

Luke relaxed his shoulders and raised an eyebrow, looking a little like Leia herself. “Sounds like whoever’s leaving those presents really cares.”

She allowed herself a small smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “That doesn’t matter. At least not now. I just want to know who it is.”

He turned back to his lukewarm breakfast. “I can put out some feelers, ask the Rogues?”

“No, don’t ask them! It’ll be halfway around the base by lunch,” she replied, looking over her shoulder. “Just . . . keep your ears open for me?”

“Sure, Leia,” he grinned, taking a bite of Panna cake.

______________________________________________________________________

Leia was plaiting her dark hair for bed when a loud knock interrupted her.

“Your Worshipfulness?”

She huffed, a long strand of hair floating up in the air with her breath. Even with just two words, she could already feel her defenses rising up. Grabbing a robe and throwing it on, she went to the door and opened it, crossing her arms in the doorframe.

“Yes, Captain?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her half-plaited hair. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Does it matter?” she retorted, matching his eyebrow. “What can I help you with?”

He nodded towards her quarters. “Can I come in for a sec?”

She looked at him with her large brown eyes, narrowing them slightly. What does he want? After a beat, she decided he had good intentions and moved aside.

Han sauntered in, shutting the door behind him. “So a little Lantern bird told me that someone’s been leavin’ you presents outside your quarters.”

Luke . . . Leia sighed, her back towards Han. I swear I’m going to kill him. She turned around, her mouth open to deflect, when she saw him holding a purple cotton handkerchief.

Her mouth was agape for a moment before she recovered. “Where . . . Where did you get that?”

“This particular one? Or the others? Because I got this one during my last mission on Trogan.”

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Why did it have to be him? Although . . . Is it really all that bad? I mean, he has been thinking of you, bringing you things—stop it, Organa! He’s leaving, he’s going away, don’t get too close . . .

Leia opened her eyes. “Why?” she finally asked.

“Because you need them,” he replied simply.

Her heart sunk deeper in her chest. Gods, why does he have to say things like that? “Han . . .”

“But clearly you haven’t been making use of them.”

His retort snapped her brain back into focus. “I didn’t ask you to bring me anything.”

“I know—”

“So why do you care if I use them or not?”

He gave her a look of disbelief. “Because they’re something you need and for some unknown reason you aren’t using any of them. I’m tryna help and something’s stopping you from taking the help, and I just wanna know why, your Highnessness!”

Leia huffed through her nose, biting back a remark that rested on the tip of her tongue. He’s pushing your buttons, Organa. “Because . . . it’s not . . . princess-like!”

He gaped at her. “Not princess-like? Sweetheart, we’re in the middle of a war, on a kriffing cold—”

“It’s not like that! You wouldn’t understand,” she sighed, plopping down on her stool and plaiting her hair again.

“Try me,” he challenged, placing himself where he knew she could still see him.

She set her brush down on the counter and leaned back in her chair. “I can’t—It’s not—” Leia clenched her teeth, annoyed with herself. “It’s not that simple.”

“What isn’t?”

“This!” she exclaimed, waving her arms around. She let out a breath and placed her hands on her thighs, trying to put her sentences together. “You’re in the cold, your nose runs, you wipe it or blow it, right?”

He frowned. “Right.”

“When you’re Alderaani, especially when you’re Alderaani royalty, it’s . . . not what you do. We’re a reserved people, we don’t like drawing attention to ourselves with bodily fluids or anything like that. With royalty, it’s even worse. We don’t show things like that to the public—not because we’re ashamed, but because it’s just protocol. It’s in line with our culture.”

Han nodded, letting her words sink in. “But Leia, we aren’t on Alderaan, things are different,” he replied.

She winced a little. “That’s the problem. I know things are different now, but I can’t—It’s ingrained—It’s not something we do.”

He leaned against the desk in front of her. “You’re afraid of letting go of Alderaan,” he rumbled.

Leia’s palms started sweating. “They are—were—my people,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I owe it to them to try, to not forget.”

“Adapting isn’t forgetting,” he murmured. “No one here will think less of you for doing what you have to do.”

She swallowed. “I know it seems silly—”

“It isn’t,” he replied automatically.

Leia glanced at the handkerchief still in his hand. “My mother gave me a silk handkerchief when I was a girl. I had a cold and my Aunt Rouge kept getting mad when I wiped my nose on my hand.”

Han’s eyes widened for a moment, but didn’t say anything.

“It was like keeping my parents close—no matter what I was doing, how hard it was, I always had them. I knew who I was, what I represented, and I could always go back to them.”

She looked up at him with her large brown eyes. “I don’t know how to live without Alderaan,” she confided.

His hand twitched on his thigh. “I know,” he whispered.

Even though he didn’t truly know what it was like to lose a planet, Leia knew he was sincere—he did know how hard this was for her. She curled up into her seat. “I almost don’t want to move on, because that means . . . acknowledging it’s gone.”

“Leia,” he murmured. “Blowing your nose won’t make you forget Alderaan.”

She almost smirked at the absurdity of the sentence. “You think so?”

“The planet might be gone, but Alderaan still lives in you and all the other survivors. And adapting to the cold won’t take away from your culture.”

She rested her forehead on her knees as she listened to him. “In my head, I know you’re right, but all of it still feels gone.”

“Nothing’s ever really gone.”

She looked up at him.

“Not in your heart, at least.”

He straightened up and placed the purple cotton handkerchief in her hand, quietly leaving her quarters.

______________________________________________________________________

The next day on base, the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees—certainly not the best weather for sitting at a data desk doing data analysis. After spending the last half hour staring at the same coordinates while shivering, Leia decided it was high time for a short walk around the base.

Taking the time to stretch her legs for a moment, she started at a brisk pace, finding herself walking towards the hangar. But just before she made it there, her nose started running at the same pace as her legs.

She stopped for a moment, trying to sniffle it back. Unfortunately for her, it had a mind of its own and kept going. A few more sniffles later, she realized it wasn’t stopping any time soon. Leia felt around her pocket, finding the handkerchief Han had left in her hand the night before.

She felt the material for a moment, taking a deep breath. Folding it over and holding it up to her nose, she blew into the cotton softly, not caring who was around her or watching.

Meanwhile, hanging around outside the Falcon, a certain rogue smuggler spotted her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

#han x leia #star wars #my fic #Star Wars fanfiction #scoundress #han solo x leia organa

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