Left Fae~The King, the Queen and the Fool~Right Faerie

    Every faerie household contains a king, a queen and a fool. For how can one live the good life in a crystal palace with no wise king to rule, no gracious queen to preside over the banquet table and no fool to amuse? Faeries are royalists. They insist upon a king and queen in every fort and palace. Although the legislative duties of such monarchs may be minimal, they actively lead their faerie court in all social functions. The king initiates the races, the battles and the raiding of mortal lands for beautiful women. The queen orders the feasts and festivities, instigates the battles and surrepetitiously sends her dark servant to escort a nursing mother or a handsome young man to her underground home.
    King Fionvarra presides over all the western faeries. A lusty horseman, he leads the attack or the race, handsomely astride a black charger with nostrils red as flames. When not upon his horse, he can be found at table with a goblet of wine in his hand or in bed kissing a lovely woman. Oonagh, his queen, has thick yellow hair sweeping the ground; when she moves her dew-drop dress shimmers like fine mist over her handsome body. But although Oonagh's beauty exceeds that of any mortal woman, Fionvarra fancies the young girls of our realm. He literally charms them, luring them away to dance with him on the faerie rings.
    Faerie FortFaerie kings and princes dress in well-fitting green and are inclined to adorn their red caps with fillets of gold. A great golden torc is worn by each king to indicate his rank; for some rule one rath only, while four are worn by the great chiefs of Ulster, Connaught, Munster and Leinster. All are irresistable to young mortal women.
    Queens prefer flimsy, shimmery garments to show off their fine forms. The celebrated beauty of Queen Maeve of Connaught meets with every faerie standard: lips like rowan berries, skin like fresh cream, voice as sweet as a well-stroked harp, hair yellow as wheat and sweeping the ground. With such charms, Maeve and lesser faerie queens never fail to capture the hearts (bodies and souls included) of our young mortal warriors.
    Every faerie fort houses an Amadawn or fool who keeps well within faerie borders save for the month of June. For eleven months out of the mortal year, he amuses the faerie troop with his heavy clown antics, but in June no faerie fort can contain him when some strange necessity calls him to mortal lands. Wild, half-naked and with an incongruous high hat upon his bull head, he lumbers down our country roads, his short massive body jerking with the violence of his passion.
    Not out of meanness but stupidity, the fool lashes out at all he encounters, thus destroying their wits. A boy once saw a faerie fool carrying a shining basin behind his back. He had no time to run before the basin was hurled; when it crashed with a great noise the boy's wits were gone. Some striken mortals never see the fool at all, but their disarranged wits attest to his touch.
    Of all the faeries the fool ist most to be feared because no remedy exists for his stroke. Even the great faerie doctor, Biddy Early, who could cure all things, found her arts powerless against the touch of the fool. And since he has no wits at all, he cannot be placated nor wittily tricked. One tap from his fist is sure to knock anyone's brains to kingdom come, but a bit may be saved if a mortal says a quick "The Lord be between us and all harm" before the oncoming blow.

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    Source: Carolyn White "A History of Irish Fairies"

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