One day Rosmerta, goddess of the land, found that the days of her youth were gone. No more playing around, when she just awoke from winter’s sleep and brought back the land to bloom. No time to dress yourself with blossoms! Something different had come forth out of the pink and white flowers: Beltane and Midsummer had come and gone, and the seeds were grown and slowly the time for the harvest was drawing near. Rosmerta looked around her and decided that she couldn’t do all the work alone – and didn’t want to. She needed a partner, somebody who would share all the work with her.
So she sent out messengers in all directions to announce that the queen of the land was looking for a husband who should share her reign. And they came in masses: Men, ghosts and gods, who wanted to be that husband. Rosmerta called them in front of her throne:
„You want to be my husband? You want to walk with me and share the work of ruling the country?“
„Yes!“, they cried.
„So,“ Rosmerta spoke, „you know what I have to offer. But I hardly know about you, and you are many! It is difficult to choose the best of you. So I challenge you: Bring me the best you have to offer! Each of you shall present himself. Then I will choose.“
Some days went by, and many presentations were done: Singers, who offered a song or poem, warriors, who lay down their prey at Rosmerta’s feet, craftsmen who presented their best pieces of work, magicians who showed her their greatest tricks, and many more.
Rosmerta saw them all, but didn’t say a thing.
Finally only one young man was left. When she waved at him, he came before her throne. „Ad far as I can see, you haven’t brought me anything.“, Rosmerta spoke. „What will you show me?“
The young man smiled. „I brought myself, with all my abilities, dear goddess. You already have all I will need for my presentation.“ „Well,“ the goddess was skeptical, „I am curious to see.“
And the young man took the fertility of the earth and created from her abundance a delicious meal that stilled the hunger of all people who attended the feast and even longer than that.
„You are a good cook!“, Rosmerta said. „But there were quite a few good cooks.“
And the young man took the ore from deep within the earth and created a sword and a shield which couldn’t have been more formidable.
„I say, you are a talented smith!“, Rosmerta praised him. „But we already saw a few good smiths.“
And the young man took sword and shield, and suddenly there was a huge army of dangerous enemies, but the shield protected everybody, and the young man defied one adversary after the other, until finally the last one flew his mighty strength.
„It is true that you are a formidable fighter!“, Rosmerta admitted. „Like so many of your competitors.“
And the young man took the beauty of the earth and he shaped her into verses, so wonderful, that his listeners had tears in their eyes. „What an awesome poem!“, Roberta cried out. „It is on par with the most beautiful poems that I heard today.
And the young man picked a few of his hairs and took the tears of his audience and from all this he created a harp. And then he played the harp and sang his verses along, and the harp sounded so clear, that joy grew in all hearts.
„How beautiful!“, Rosmerta said. „But a good musician isn’t necessarily a good husband.“
And the young man took the whole history of the earth and told her.
„How well you know me!“, Rosmerta was surprised. „But it is the future I care for rather than the past.“
And the young man took the waters of the earth, enchanted them and looked into the watery mirror, and he saw what the future might bring. And his words were wise.
Finally Rosmerta was satisfied. „You are a good worker. You know how to feed the people and how to protect them. You filled my heart with joy trough your poetry and song. And you are wise and have the knowledge of magic. Many came before my throne who were masters in one of their arts, and I admire their abilities. But only one was a master in all of those. What is your name, my husband-to-be?“
„I am Lugus.“, he answered her, and when he threw back his hair, it shone like the sun. „And I am yours with all that I have.“
So Rosmerta took Lugus as her husband, and their relation was fruitful and for the well-being of all the people.
Guten Tag Birgit!
When I found this, I was like this sounds like Birgit of the works I have read in Oak Leaves. This is awesome and I am curious as to its origin. I am the chief liturgist for Lughnasadh, which I am leading as a Gaulish ritual with Lugus and Rosmerta as the primary deities of the occasion. I am inviting Lugus and our Rev Caryn is inviting Rosmerta and we are going to read this as a praise offering.
Thank you for posting/sharing this story.
Blessings,
Stephanie
CedarLight Grove, ADF, Baltimore, MD
Hello Stephanie,
yes, that’s me. There is no real origin to this story. I used the story of the Irish Lugh coming to Tara and combined it with what Rosmerta and the marriage between king and land. We have hardly any known myths of the Gauls, just some images or statues here and there, so I made it up because it sounded to me as if it might work. Long after writing it I found a story MJ Dangler had written in one of the Crane books that I probably had stashed somewhere in the back of my mind. But I checked back with him and his story is sligthly different. I am really happy that you are going to use it, and so will I. Have a wonderful Lughnasadh celebration, dear Cedar Light Grove!