The final episode of the Gypsy woman

I know this is late. I promised the ending to the stories of the Gypsy woman by Mid summer, but, I was detained. I am putting at the end of this story the links to the stories in the correct order to read them. I hope that you will enjoy these imaginings.

Cybella's promise is paid.

The air itself felt cleaner now that the ugliness of the past few weeks was behind her, figuratively and literally as she made her way in the direction of the one she loved. Leaving this territory was also a little sad, but only just a little. This is where her mother had died. This is where she had buried her beloved donkey friend, but the excitement of being in the arms of her beloved calmed her mind and made her heart race.

She would set up camp in about three hours, close enough to the district of her lover the Duke for comfort, in an area with which she was familiar. She and her mother stopped by this well spring often in their travels for the callings they received. Her mother had loved the cool overgrowth of vines and sweet jasmine and had gathered the healing herbs necessary every time they stopped. The pool was simply called “Water spigot” because of the way the underground spring came out of the side of an odd shaped granite chunk which was almost as big as Genevieve was tall. Some ingenious soul had even carved out and attached a bucket holder above the springs bubbling exit from the rock.

She and her twin donkeys which were a gift from the Duke would find the respite and the location refreshing she was assured.

As she drove towards her destination, her thoughts were of the 3 woman whose lives had been changed and she blessed each one with a thought. Hoping for each that the new found freedom from the hurt and suffering they had felt would give them what they each needed to be whole and go on through life with a renewed attitude of confidence.

She also hoped she, herself, would find a settling in her own heart which would allow herself to rest from her need to always be helping others. She was at a place in her own life that surely she deserved to enjoy, relax and treat herself to those things which seemed frivolous, out on the open road. Like nicer clothes, although she did have to admit that the garments that she did have were quite fetching on her. But she would also make time to take long baths in her own herbs instead of the quick and cold stream baths she had to deal with on the road. And then there was the matter of shoes, or rather boots. When she stopped travelling, she would give herself slippers, soft, downy, beautiful slippers to gently caress her feet, instead of the sturdy boots she needed to wear to be safe on her journeys.

Hours into her journey the donkeys began to balk at the travel. They very seldom ever took this attitude and when they did, Genevieve paid attention. They, the donkeys, after all were the protection she depended upon being a lone woman traveling the roads. She slowed her progress until they got to an open space in the road, where the trees were not so close and did not overhang the road.

Genevieve herself felt the “offness” and went to check on the donkeys. Both were physically fine but on alert. And then she saw what her eyes saw but her heart could not believe, her beloved Merchas, the dog from her childhood.

It was impossible for this to be Merchas for he had been dead at the hand of Boucher de Enfants when she was but a child. But here he stood, just as he had been that very day. He ran at her and jumped into her arms. Waggling his bottom as well as his tail, he and Genevieve were both so enthralled with being in each other’s presence they did not even notice the smallish man who lay on the side of the road.

When they had come to a calm period, the old man said, “please miss, could you give an old man a drink of water?” Startled and ashamed of not having noticing him before now, she said, “Of course dear man, I am so sorry. And while you drink, let me look at your leg.” “How did you injure it?” she asked, as she got him a drink from her water pouch.

“Oh miss, I’m a blindish old fool and I didn’t see the carriage coming. I heard it, but I didn’t haves no idea it was as wide as it musta been.” With that said, she set about binding the wound and getting the old gentleman squared away.

“You seem right taken by that dog” he chatted. She explained that obviously this must be a descendant of a particularly wonderful dog that she had had when she was a youngster. The old man smiled and nodded his head.

“Thank you for your kindness miss, I won’t take up any more of your time. You must have someplace to be soon.” Genevieve answered, “Well yes I do but I wouldn’t mind staying and seeing to you, if you’d like”. But the old man just teetered off waving to her.

She, Merchas got up on the driver’s seat and set the donkeys on their path to the “Water spigot” to spend the night.

It was that wonderful twilight time when she finally set up camp in the clearing just south of the watering hole. There were no other travelers, which suited her this evening. No others to have to talk to. Just the amazing dog, her team of loyal protectors and Genevieve on a beautiful cool breeze evening under the canopy of stars which hung closer tonight.

She went to the watering hole and was swinging her buckets and singing a little song to Merchas the second, as he had been named when she stopped in her tracks.

On the ground, near the “Water spigot” was a present, tied up with paper and string with a card which read, “for the kindest healer in the realm, Genevieve".

She was dumbfounded. Who knew she’d be here. But it didn’t stop her from opening, rather ripping open the package. Inside were the most delicately sewn and richly embellished slippers Genevieve had ever seen in her life. So soft and sparkly and perfectly formed.

Oh, this meant she was going to have to take a bath for sure. She ran back to the caravan, ripped off her road weary clothes, grabbed a drying cloth and cleansing herbs and ran back to the water. The shoes were left on her bed.

When she returned to the caravan all clean and smiling, she picked out one of her finer dresses and dressed herself as she would to meet someone of importance. Took out a string of pearls the Duke had given her and put them around her hair to hold it up off her shoulders. She was the picture of a beautiful woman.

As she slid on the slippers, she heard the tiniest sigh and whispers………….and Genevieve was off, as promised to live with the faeries.

You see my dears, her mother Cybella had made the promise when Genevieve was born. And don't be sad for Genevieve not getting to be with her Duke, the fae knew of their love and when he was in danger of being killed, the fae took him and he has been waiting for
Genevieve with Merchas. And as for the donkeys....they were fae all the time.

The fae have woven the perfect ending for this story. They usually do. Believe my darlings, you must.


http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/04/and-she-waited.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/04/and-still-she-waits.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/04/la-justice-gitane.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/04/epilogue-to-la-justice-gitane-and.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/04/when-gypsy-sang.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/05/jinx-goes-home.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/05/burial-of-bertram.html
http://yeoldecronesgazette.blogspot.com/2012/05/cybella-is-back-through-veil.html
and today's episode is the finale.