To recap, Aurora is basically Realmgard-Canada, although their traditional poetry is basically Realmgard-Finnish. In the original version of this scene, Sauvaherra’s name was Sauvatonttu, which is “Wand-Elf”, which is Gandalf. Long story short, there are any number of reasons why Sauvaherra (which is “Wand-Lord”) works better.
“How are you feeling, Lucia?” Petra asks.
Lucia looks up at Petra with bleary eyes. The Troll-Amazon is upside-down from Lucia’s position with her head resting on Apolline’s lap.
Lucia moans and pulls her blanket up to her chin.
She’s been sick and miserable for the past few days, but she’s still enough of a cat that part of her enjoys the attention — and the headpats and ear scratches — her friends have been giving her as they look after her.
Even Roland, for all his other faults, has his heart in the right place.
“Apolline,” Lucia says weakly. “Sing me a song.”
The Aurorean sorceress rolls her eyes. “Goodness, Lucia,” she mutters. “You’re acting like a child.”
“Please?” Lucia asks. “I like your songs. And Roland and Alda have never heard an Aurorean song before.”
“I haven’t!” Alda exclaims eagerly.
“Yes,” Apolline says wryly, “because being nice to Roland has always been your major concern.”
“See?” Lucia offers. “Look how sick I am. I’m delirious.”
“Such a child,” Apolline mutters again.
“Please?” Lucia repeats.
Apolline nods and begins to sing:
Now gather round listen to the tale that I shall tell you,
That has come down from our fathers, and the fathers of our fathers.
Dearest friend of childhood, o, dear friend of my bosom —
Roland snorts.
“Bosom,” he giggles.
Alda glowers up at him, shushes him and jabs him with her elbow.
“Sorry,” he mutters, even as he continues to suppress his laughter.
Apolline continues her song, ignoring the interruption:
Let us clasp our hands together, let us form a circle,
Let us dance together, til Nainen’s lamp is lighted,
Til all the stars are shining and the moon is brightly kindled.
Let us sing the songs that have come down from our fathers:
Tell the tales of heroes, the ancient ages of Aurora.
“Yeah,” Lucia sighs happily. “That’s nice. Now do the one about the old guy and the fish.”
Apolline frowns down at Lucia.
“That old guy is the greatest hero of my people,” she notes. “Such a child.”
All the same, she gently pats Lucia’s head and begins her next song:
Mighty ran the river, cold and swiftly-flowing
When wily Sauvaherra came wading through the shallows.
There the fish was snapping, scales like silver gleaming,
Leaping through the water.
Twenty spans it measured, the great fish of the river.
So crafty Sauvaherra cast his line to water,
Mighty river swiftly-flowing —
Threw a hook of iron down into the water,
Great fish to snare, drag it from the river, pull it from the waters.
Cunning Sauvaherra hooked the great fish of the river,Snared the master of the water.And so the fish was thrashing,The river churning in its frenzy
As Sauvaherra and the fish contended,
The great pike and the wizard
While mighty ran the river, cold and swiftly-flowing.
“Yeah,” Lucia yawns. “That’s nice.”
She rolls over, settles more comfortably on Apolline’s lap and drifts off to sleep.
The Aurorean sorceress frowns. “My legs are asleep,” she notes.
She sighs and glances over at Lucia.
“She’s lucky we love her.”
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