Faith unfaithful falsely true.

Possible sensitive content: unrequited love leading to death

Valentines Day was always hard on Emotional Dabrowski. There were so many intense vibrations of feelings swirling around her. She was tuning in to feelings ranging from wistful distant hero worship to cautious steps toward deeper connection, through to intense joyful intimacy. But also, she was tuning in to the feelings of despair of unrecognized and unrequited regard.

Emotional Dabrowski was an English Springer Spaniel, one of the five overexcitable Dabrowski Dogs, the canine companions and writing assistants for Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence in Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies.

She aided Jo by alerting her to the emotions her characters could be feeling. Unfortunately, Emotional Dabrowski was not good at naming the feelings. She just absorbed the emotions and expressed them by howling “ Ow, ow, ow, ooooooo!”

Intellectual Dabrowski, the pedantic Border Collie, tended to dismiss Emotional’s concerns and labelled her The Drama Queen. He conceded that Emotional had helped him to understand the character Elaine, with her little dolorous cries, shrieking, moaning and swooning, which he decided he needed to research. He found a treatise about it by Sue Ellen Holbrook Emotional Expression in Malory’s Elaine of Ascolat.

This Valentines Day was proving especially difficult as Elaine was visiting the cabin. Elaine had refused to follow the traditional storyline for her character and informed everyone, including Little Plump Jo, that from now on she would not be Elaine the Fair, The Lily Maid of Astolat. She demanded to be known as The Lady Charlotte Elaine, Lady of Shalott and entrepreneur owner of the business, Charlotte’s Web Weaving. And Jo had not held a strong enough grip on her characters to prevent her rebellion.

In all the previous retellings of the story of Lancelot and Elaine, Elaine’s role had been to give Sir Lancelot du Lac a red sleeve embroidered with pearls to wear on his helmet during a tournament; and then, when he was wounded, to nurse him for months on end. Elaine had intended the token to represent affection between them. Lancelot had seen it only as an aid to riding in disguise. In all the previous retellings, when Elaine saw that her deep feelings for Lancelot were not reciprocated, she had tried to bargain. If she could not be his wife and only sweetheart, maybe he would let her follow him throughout the world. But he had said that would be dishonourable. That left only one course of action for her -she must die!

So in all the previous retellings Elaine had gone floating down to Camelot on a beautifully bedecked barge with a lily and her final letter to Sir Lancelot du Lac in her white marble like dead hands.

Elaine had vowed that she would not be giving a repeat performance this time. She was gaining great satisfaction from the recognition she was receiving for her weaving, tapestry and beaded embroidery. She had been commissioned to create several large works for the walls of castles and manor houses. She had presented her work at several major weaving expos. And she swore that she would not be giving Lancelot even a passing thought.

However that was not easy to do, when it came to days like Valentines Day. Happy couples like Geraint and Enid and Gawain and Ragnell were feeding each other grapes and giving each other heart shaped tokens. It was as bad as the Lusty Month of May!

Elaine came to Cloudbank Cabin with puffy, red rimmed eyes and a wet handkerchief up her sleeve. She threw her arms around Emotional Dabrowski and sobbed into the soft furry chest. Emotional put back her beautiful head and howled “ Ow, ow, ow, ooooooo!”

“Oh pack it in, you two!” barked Intellectual. “It is not as if he ever said the L word to you.”

“He nearly did,” Elaine sniffled. “He was feverish and I held his hand and he whispered ‘Ah, my lady, you have come’ And then he whispered a whole lot of French words - ‘ma belle dame, ma vie, mes jours et mes nuits’ - so beautiful, so romantic.

Then he said ‘God forgive me but I …’

He stopped, as if he had something really important to say, and made a great effort to focus on my face. Then he gasped and let out a sort of cry and the hermit hurried over to give him a draught of poppy syrup, and he turned his head and went to sleep.”

“He didn’t, you know” barked Intellectual. “He turned sighing and feigned a sleep until he slept. See Tennyson’s epic poem Lancelot and Elaine.”

“He called me sweet Elaine”

“He called you friend and sister, sweet Elaine. That is not exactly a declaration of devotion!”

“But if we had just been together longer, maybe….”

“No. It was never going to happen,” insisted Intellectual. “As he began to feel stronger, as the blood ran lustier in him, he started to think only of the one who truly had his heart – Queen Guinevere. As Tennyson so beautifully expressed it

 His honour rooted in dishonour stood,

 And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.”

“Your father did warn you!” continued Intellectual, rolling his eyes. “He said

 And sure I think this fruit is hung too high

 For any mouth to gape for save a queen's—

 Nay, I mean nothing

But you were so very wilful and you went chasing after him anyway!”

The other four Dabrowski Dogs gathered round Elaine.

“Go out and research the Battle of Badon Hill, Intellectual,” barked Sensual Dabrowski. “Elaine, I apologise for Intellectual’s rudeness. He does not have a great deal of empathy!”

“Don’t think about him anymore,” said Imaginational Dabrowski. “You are better off without him! Now that you are a weaving entrepreneur, famous in your own right, you can choose a much more suitable potential husband.”

“I just want my own HEA – just a Happy Ever After ending. That is not too much to ask,” sniffled Elaine. “ When I was younger Lord Bromwell from the neighbouring manor used to come courting me. He used to tell my father that he would ask him for my hand in marriage and combine our two holdings to make Astowell or Bromolat. I wasn’t impressed with him. He seemed old to me; his hair was grey and thinning and he slurped his soup! I told my father I did not want to marry him and father said that I did not have to marry him, in order to consolidate our properties; because my brothers, Torre and Lavain, will inherit jointly anyway.

“So would you consider marrying Lord Bromwell now?”

“Well, just after I moved to the Tower of Shalott, I invited Lord Bromwell to a romantic dinner following a viewing of the exhibition of my weavings. I wondered whether there could still be a spark. He was quite handsome in a country squire kind of way. He had a rather ruddy complexion; but was already becoming slightly portly and short of breath.

He admired my completed wall hangings and rugs and my Work In Progress, the triptych Planting, tending and harvest of the fields of barley and of rye.

He offered a number of suggestions in relation to methods for promoting my weaving business and gave me advice about the most effective way to get my pigeons redirected.

He even commissioned me to weave a large wall hanging depicting a noble, handsome, though slightly portly, lord proposing on bended knee to a maiden in a field of corn.

But all the time I was mentally comparing him to Lancelot.

I found myself creating a mental PMI table.

Bromwell

Plus

He likes my weaving

He owns the Manor of Bromwell

HE IS AVAILABLE

Minus 

Not as handsome

Possibly drinks too much

Not physically fit

He is an untidy eater

Interesting

Indications he could become overweight and unfit..

Lancelot

Plus

Handsome

Doesn’t drink wine

Very physically fit!

He might be an heir to a kingdom in France.

Minus

Seems too engrossed in his own affairs

HE ADORES SOMEONE ELSE

Interesting

He tends to get wounded

I tried to imagine what both men would be like as they aged and found potential health problems for both of them. I could not tell, at this stage,whether either of them would be of a sweet disposition or morose and surly when they reached their senior years.

But the main advantage that Lord Bromwell had was that HE WAS AVAILABLE!

So I laid my cards on the table and said, ‘I would not be averse to accepting your proposal of marriage; after a suitable time of courting of course!’

Lord Bromwell looked somewhat embarrassed.

“I must confess that I have already given my heart to another” he said. “The weaving I commissioned is to be a proposal gift.”

“Oh! Who is the fortunate lady?” I asked.

He said, “Elaine the Fair, the Lily Maid of Astolat.”

“So apparently he liked the old me as I was; and did not even recognise me in my new autonomous persona.”

“You need someone who likes the new you,” said Imaginational Dabrowski. “You could fill in one of Little Plump Jo’s character cards and request a new leading man.

But Jo is kind of old school, especially if Intellectual is trying to control the writing, so don’t expect her to do a Song of the Sparrow job on you and have you instrumental in the victory at Badon Hill and then ending up with Sir Tristan!”

“So tell us what your new beau will be like,” yelped Psycho Motor Dabrowski, bouncing up and down excitedly with one of the character cards in his mouth.

Elaine dried her eyes and sighed dreamily.

“He will be tall and have large dark eyes and coal black curls. He will be strong and athletic and not drink wine. He will speak with a French accent and be in line for a kingdom in France. Oh, and he will be a tidy eater.”

“Elaine, that just sounds like Lancelot!” cautioned Sensual Dabrowski.

“But,” said Imaginational, “Lancelot does have a half-brother, Ector de Maris, who meets most of those criteria. I will suggest it to Little Plump Jo. If you are prepared to cooperate with her, we may be able to arrange an HEA for you!”