The Glass Mountain

[elwinglyre]

Once upon a time, atop Glass Mountain, there was a castle made of entirely of gold. At the foot of Glass Mountain grew an orchard like no other-- each tree was adorned with shining precious apples-- apples of pure gold.

A three-headed she-hound guarded the golden fruit. This she-hound stalked the orchard at the foot of Glass Mountain, feeding on the hapless few who dared to steal fruit from the trees, her mighty jaws and fierce fangs tearing flesh from bone, feeding greedily. 

Only knights noble and brave dared try to pluck an apple from the trees. Many knights died trying to acquire the golden apple.

Fewer still survived the second task. This was to climb Glass Mountain and place the fruit at the Golden Gate. Only then could the knight gain entrance to the castle. 

Over the years many knights on mighty steeds with hooves shod with sharp nails climbed Glass Mountain, hoping to reach the castle of gold. All but two failed, slipping down the mountain to their death. 

At the very top, imprisoned in the highest room of the golden palace, lived the sad and lonely prince. Hidden and locked there in his lofty golden room, he awaited for the one who would free him from his lofty golden bars. He was the treasure so desired.

Day after day the lonely prince gazed down from his golden tower window, and his heart would ache as knight after knight fell to their doom. He waited for the one to succeed, one who would face the third trial within the Golden Gates, which was to slay the mighty dragon-- then they would be but one trial away. Alas, that had never happened. The two who had made it through the Golden Gate were turned to ash and bone by the dragon.   

The captive prince waited, hoping one day a knight would come forth and open his door-- a knight brave and handsome who would pass the fourth and final trial that hid within the prince.

The prince waited long for that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was on a crisp autumn morn when the tired and ragged gardener made his way into the orchard. His shirt frayed and torn, he slung his hoe over his left shoulder. His back was hunched over from his heavy pack.  He had spent nine long years collecting seeds far and wide throughout the land-- yet in all his travels, he had never seen a forest such as this. He dropped his pack and set down his hoe. Long he stared up into the branches, mesmerized by the precious fruit hanging from the trees. "What soil is this..." he wondered, "that could nourish such fruit?" 

Curious, he knelt to the earth, knees kissing the soil whilst crumbling a handful through in his calloused fingers. So enrapt was he that he did not hear the hound's approach until it leapt upon him.

"What have I here?" the hound asked, pinning the gardener to the ground. "A tasty dinner for my pups?" 

The she-hound jaws snapped near the gardener's face-- her breath rank and hot. The gardener held her middle head at bay with both hands. Those set of jaws snapped but inches from his nose whilst the other two sets snarled and drooled at each ear. 

"You will be rather disappointed in your meal," he gasped, closing his eyes to think. "Eating stems and roots has left me rather tasteless."

"Ah-h, that is disheartening," said the hound. "But I think you shall do." The gardener opened his eyes only to find all six of her eyes staring back-- red, fiery eyes that searched deep into his soul. The gardener gulped, for he knew he had little time. 

"I'm dry too... and tough..."

"Hmm, yes you may well be..." she said, licking her sharp teeth. "Still, you have come into the forbidden forest. For what purpose? Speak!"

"I did not know this garden was forbidden. Pray, let me pass."

"Why? What have you that I should want other than the meat on your bones... however dry and tasteless that meat may be?"

"I have nothing. Only the seeds I carry here inside my pack.  I have collected these seeds from lands near and far. Here, if you let me up, I will show you."

"I will let you up, though you still look like a thief to me," the she-hound said, growling  a warning as she stepped cautiously off his chest. The gardener stood slowly, mindful not to move or ruffle her for he feared those mighty jaws. 

"I meant no harm to your orchard--" he explained, as inch by inch he edged the pack from off his back. "I only sought to learn how such fruit might spring from this earth. I have traveled far and wide, gathering these seeds..." 

As he reached into his pack, the she-hound's jaws seized the gardener's wrist. Snarling through clenched teeth she said: "I will open the pack lest you carry some trick inside." 

The gardener withdrew his hand and held his breath as the hound upended his pack, tearing open the carefully sifted packets of seed. All his treasures scattered--all his work spent on the ground.

"What manner of knight gathers seeds and wields such?" the hound asked, nodding one head toward his hoe. "What weapon is this?" 

The gardener was so distraught he all but forgot his danger.

"That is no weapon," the gardener answered wearily. "It is but a hoe for digging roots. And I am no knight, just a weary gardener." 

"Why are you distressed? These are hardly worth such worry."

"These seeds may not be worth much to you, but for me this is nine long years' of work," he said, shoving some of the seeds into his pockets. "I expect these treasures you dumped are worth to me what this orchard is to you."

The gardener opened his bag and began to sort through his seed on the ground. He found he could salvage some. The hound snarled and asked: "Do you have a name, gardener?"

"Yes," he said, looking up from his task. "It is Sean, Sean Gamgee."

"Sean Gamgee, stand. You have not come here seeking the treasure atop Glass Mountain. I do not wish to eat one with meat so tasteless as yours." With that plucked an apple off a tree with one of her mighty heads and dropped the apple into the gardener's pack. "Add this token to your collection. Still, before I let you leave I must tell you... if you truly collect valuable seeds, there is one seed in this kingdom more valuable than any other."

"What seed might that be?" Sean asked.

The hound did not answer, instead she looked long at Glass Mountain. 

"It is there?" Sean Gamgee asked.

"Yes, high in the tower is a treasure greater than all those in this orchard, greater than all that is at your feet."

The gardener gathered his seeds best he could, spying looks at Glass Mountain as he did so. He wondered what could have that much value. At last he finished. He knew he had left some in the soil. 

"I think you will have new fruits for your garden soon..." but the she-hound did not seem to hear him-- she still looked up at the Golden Tower. Sean Gamgee's eyes  followed the hound's stare. A knight rode near the base of Glass Mountain. 

"Ah, whilst I was busy with you, Sean Gamgee, a knight has slipped by my guard. He also seeks the promise of the greatest treasure." 

Sean watched the knight, and when he looked back, the she-hound had left. He pulled his pack on to his back, grabbed his hoe and headed toward Glass Mountain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the foot of Glass Mountain, Sean Gamgee stood. He held his nose as he looked up. Around him were mounds of corpses. High on the mountain was the knight. He and his silver steed were over half way to the top. The sun's rays arced around the knight, his armor glistening. 

Sean lifted his hoe and began his climb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The prince watched below. The knight was close. The prince could see the steed straining, each drop of its hoof pained. The day was new when the knight began his ascent-- now the sun was setting, the mountain glowing like the fiery sky it reflected. The prince's eyes also reflected the sun's rays, his blue eyes dark and flickering. The prince never blinked, never moved, holding his breath with each drop of the hoof. The top drew nigh.  

Then it happened. 

The knight's steed lost his spiky shoe, hoof slipping. Down, down, Glass Mountain they spun. The prince turned his head and closed his eyes. Long he stood at the window. The sun had gone, and the full moon replaced her light. He turned his head back, slowly opening his eyes. There near the ridge was another figure. No mount had he. Instead, a large pack on his back had he. The prince bit his lip as he saw the man struggling up last few feet, his gruff hands wrenching his body forward with what looked like a hoe. From his tower he imagined muscles clenching, and the prince bit his nails. As the man made the top, he rested his hoe on his shoulder, wiping his brow, and he glistened like he was part of Glass Mountain. As he moved, he shimmered. Though tattered and worn, he cast an unnatural halo as he neared the gate. Stopping in front of the Golden Gate, the figure bowed, pulling his pack from his back, dropping it to the ground. From the top of the tower, the prince could not tell how young or old-- yet the prince felt a warmth toward this stranger. 

The prince sighed and blinked. He grasped the windowsill tight as if in a swoon. He had not realized how long he had held his breath. The figure below knelt and reached into his pack. The apple sparkled as he pulled it out. He reverently placed it at his feet. 

The gate yawned open. 

The prince felt the gate groan from the prickles on his skin to the insides of his very bones. That same moonlight broke through the prince's heart which broke through the gates. A hope kindled inside the prince that he had long forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sean Gamgee sucked in he stomach and took his first wobbly steps inside the great Golden Gate. He was still confused as why he had come. The air smelled foul. His mouth dry. His hands blistered. His shoulder ached. Yet he had gone on. What seed could be more dear than those he had left in his pack at the gate or on the ground in the orchard?

The gardener felt no more than an ant inside the monstrous hall. The moonlight from windows cast an unearthly patchwork pattern on the floor. The grand gold staircase glittering in center seemed out of place in the dark and hollow hall. The steps wound round and round up, up, to what Sean believed was the tower where the treasure lay. 

Dark. Dark. 

He began to climb. 

It was dark and strangely hot. The frail moonlight from the window helped him find his step. Hair pricked on the back of his neck as he climbed. He stopped, listening. He sucked the acrid air into his chest and continued forth. 

Not alone. Not alone.

Boom, boom, boom. The very air around Sean Gamgee shook. A dragon. Its terrible wings cracked and writhed. He ducked, crouching into the corner riser of a stair. A hideous smell encased him. Putrid globs flew down, burning his arms as he shielded his face. Then the blast of heat and fire singed his hair. The dragon descended, spanning the entire width of the tower above him.

"The she-hound could have told me there was a dragon before giving me that apple and sending  me on my way," Sean mumbled to himself. "At least I could have met my death armed with more than a hoe."

The dragon spewed forth a fiery laugh. 

"What pitiful knight is this? And what weapon has he?" 

"I am no knight." Sean Gamgee stood up, thinking quick. "I am a wizard. And this is my staff," he said, trusting his hoe up at the dragon.

"A wizard?!  What wizard would think he could pass and steal the treasure from me?"

"This wizard," he said, stepping forth bravely, "this very wizard who climbed this very mountain with this staff-- this very wizard who enchanted the she-hound and made her pluck the golden apple herself. This very wizard who got her to tell him where to find the secret treasure. You will let this wizard pass."

 The dragon bit off the end of his hoe, splintering it. "No wizard will pass."

"Beware, then I shall be forced to cast a spell on you!" And with that the gardener reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of earth and seed, throwing it in a plume at the dragon. 

Wings flapped hard on the walls in wheezing jerks as the dragon sneezed and coughed, spewing useless puffs of vapor from his mouth. The gardener stood amazed.

"Never mind fire," the dragon choke, "if I can't burn you, I shall eat you alive." Then the dragon descended on the gardener, its neck winding round him and squeezing him like a gigantic serpent. The gardener struggled against the  dragon's grasp-- the sweat of heat and dragon's rotting goo allowed the gardener to slip his burning arms free. 

He faced his fate, staring up into the dragon's mouth and from it came its rotting forked tongue, which began lashing his face. 

"Mmmm," the dragon hissed. "You taste good, wizard."

"Taste this!" With that, the gardener drove the splintered end of his hoe with all his strength deep into the dragon's mouth. From his heart to his feet, from years of toil to days of woe, the gardener called on all he had with one final thrust. Into its throat the splinted hoe went, deep, deep, and he did not stop until he heard a crack as it entered the dragon's putrid brain. 

The gardener let go. The dragon's neck loosened from around him; its head flopped away. The dragon's body smoked and slithered, spiraling down the staircase. The castle heaved as the dragon's carcass broke on the floor below. After, he could only hear the sound of his own heart pounding against his chest.

Sean Gamgee climbed the last few stairs to the large golden doors at the top and knocked before entering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doors opened wide, and before the prince stood his short, smelly savior. 

"You have come at last," the prince said breathlessly.

"Yes, I have," the gardener said, bowing low.

"And you have fooled the she-hound?" 

"Erm, yes, I have..."

"And climbed Glass Mountain?"

"Why yes..."

"And slain the dragon?"

"Yes, I believe I did..."

"All for me?"

"Ah, all for what?" The gardener stood, confused.

"For me?"

"Ah, it seems so..."

"And pray, what is your name?"

The gardener looked down at himself. 

"Gamgee, sir, Sean Gamgee."

The prince stepped up to the gardener, then stepped back quickly holding his nose.

"You are no knight..." the prince looked long into this Sean Gamgee's face. It was a pleasant face.

"No," he sighed. "I am but a gardener."

"A gardener who wants cleaning. I've bathwater here," the prince pointed.

The gardener stripped from his tattered clothes and crept bashfully into the tub. He grabbed soap and lathered up and said: "How convenient for me that hot water and such a large spacious tub was in this story."

"Why yes, that is convenient," the prince said, admiring the gardener's strong hands. "It also gives me a chance to look at your firm biceps and quivering shoulder muscles."

The gardener blushed hotter under the young prince's stare. At last, the young prince sighed and began to think it rather hot and removed his vest, then shirt, then breeches.

"By the way, what is your name?" Sean asked the prince.

"Prince Elwood," he said, grasping the side of the tub and looking down. "Most good tales have damsels in distress. I am afraid I am the damsel in this case... I hope I meet your expectations... you see I have been alone in this tower for ever so long... scrub your back?"

"Yes, please," said the gardener, handing him the brush. "But I am confused. Not that you aren't a treasure, but the she-hound told me there was seed to procure here. A seed of great worth. Where might that seed be?"

The gardener turned and at eye-level was a perfect pearl nestled on the tip of the most handsome cock he had ever seen. He up looked into the eyes of Prince Elwood. The gardener cleared his throat. "Never mind," he said. "I think I have found the treasure."

"Yes, but now that I am found, I need releasing..." Prince Elwood pleaded.

"Releasing you? You mean from your captor? I think now that I have rid you of that nasty dragon. No real need to move living quarters, this palace might work out..." Sean Gamgee grinned, feasting his eyes on his surrounding. "Of course there is quite a mess downstairs..." 

"You misunderstand. That is not the release I need."

Then the gardener smiled up into Prince Elwood's laughing eyes, then down at the Prince and his very hard, very ridged scepter.

In all the gardens in all the lands the gardener had never seen anything as beautiful. 

"There was only one trial left and thus my release--" said the Prince Elwood. "I long for someone strong and brave to divest me of my treasure... or seed... or whatever..." 

"Thank goodness the writer gave us this really big bathtub then..." And with that the gardener pulled Prince Elwood into the tub. 

"Now which part, Dear Prince Elwood, would you have me scrub first?"

And they both lived happily ever after.