Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed, held his court at Narberth. One day, for his own amusement and his followers', he led a band into the valley of Glyn Cûch. In his enthusiasm, Pwyll soon became separated from his hunting party. He was not too concerned, and heartened at the sound of his pack of dogs. As he listened, he distinguished another set of hounds baying. These dogs soon appeared, driving a stag before them.

The stag was a noble beast; but the hounds were more notable. Their coats were white as snow, save for their ears, which glistened red. They dragged the stag down in front of Pwyll, and he marveled at their brutal efficiency, and wondered what man was their master.

But no rider approached to claim his pack or their prize. So Pwyll drove off the strange white dogs, and called his own hounds to the still-warm carcass.

As he did so, a man approached on horseback. He was dressed for the hunt, clothed entirely in gray, and rode a gray steed.

"Discourteous man!" the hunter exclaimed. "How dare you drive my dogs from the stag they brought down? How dare you call your own? Such acts must be punished."

Pwyll was somewhat apprehensive. He was a prince, but separated from his home and followers. The gray-clad hunter was but one man...yet he had approached without Pwyll's knowing, which meant he was either an exceptionally skilled woodsman or not entirely of the mortal world.

And, worst of all for a prince's pride, Pwyll knew that the hunter was right to be outraged. "I apologize for my conduct," Pwyll said. "It is not befitting one of my rank. I am Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed, and I would know how I may atone for my behavior."

His words mollified the huntsman. "I am Arawn," he said, "and in Annwn I am a king."

Pwyll nodded at this admission of otherworldly origins.

"If you are a man of your word, I will set you on a task that will earn not only my forgiveness, but my gratitude and friendship," Arawn continued. "There is another king in Annwn, known as Havgan; we two have long been enemies. I am shamed to say this aloud, but I have never bested him, and I fear I never shall. Long have I sought an ally against him. Perhaps it is a mortal who is fated to defeat Havgan.

"I ask you to go to Annwn in my place, Pwyll of Dyfed, and slay my enemy."

"I asked how I might win your forgiveness, and you have set the task before me," Pwyll replied. "I will go to Annwn."

Once Pwyll said those words, Arawn cast a spell. He took on Pwyll's shape, and gave Pwyll his own.

"It is not fair to ask you to abandon your people to rule in my stead," Arawn said. "So I will go to Narberth in your place."

Pwyll agreed that this was only fair. "If you trust me to perform your duties with wisdom and honor, then I can do no less."

Arawn led Pwyll to his castle, and the two exchanged advice about ruling their respective realms. "In one year, return to the place where we first met," Arawn said.

"If I live, nothing shall keep me from that meeting," Pwyll promised.

Arawn had wrought his spell skillfully. No one in Annwn suspected that Pwyll was not their rightful king. Even Arawn's beautiful wife was tricked.

At first, Pwyll suspected that Arawn had meant to test him, that he had ordered his wife to try to seduce his replacement. After a time, Pwyll realized that this was not the case, and that the woman did not know he was not her husband. Conscious of the burden Arawn had laid upon him--and the trust which he had placed in him--Pwyll refused all the advances of Arawn's wife.

Aside from that frustration, Pwyll enjoyed his tenure as Annwn's king. The hunting was more exhilarating than he remembered experiencing before; the red-eared hounds seemed more intelligent and responsive than his own pack. The finest minstrels entertained the court, and there was continual feasting. Pwyll ruled wisely, and perhaps with more care than he had taken in Dyfed: for he was conscious of the responsibility he took for the health of Arawn's realm, and his reputation.

And when the day came to face Havgan in single combat, Pwyll was perfectly calm. He was mortal, unlike his opponent, and perhaps at a disadvantage. But if he lost, then he intended to do so honorably. If he was destined to defeat this man, then he would be victorious. Pwyll knew he must simply play his part.

Though Havgan's skill as a warrior was apparent in his bearing, the combat did not last long. Pwyll mortally wounded the king with his first blow. Pwyll annexed his realm, and Havgan's subjects could not protest, as they had seen how the contest had been honorably and fairly decided.

Shortly after Havgan was slain, the year came to an end. Pwyll returned to Glyn Cûch to meet Arawn, who restored them to their original shapes.

"I thank you for your service," Arawn said. "You are indeed worthy to be called a friend."

"I hoped only to win your forgiveness," Pwyll replied. "I am overjoyed to be granted more than that."

Upon his return to Dyfed, Pwyll discreetly inquired about the past year. While he had not doubted Arawn's intent to rule well in his stead, Pwyll was nonetheless surprised and pleased to hear what an exceptionally wise and just Prince Arawn had made.

Arawn also approved of Pwyll's actions as a ruler, and as a man.

"You have neglected me for a year," Arawn's wife said, when he kissed her upon his return. "I thought you were going to put me aside."

Arawn explained the situation to his wife, who did forgive him, though it took some time. She was displeased to think of the way she had thrown herself at a stranger who was not her husband, and displeased at the worry she had wasted over the past year, and displeased that her husband had put her in such a position.

"But I chose well, did I not?" Arawn asked. And she was forced to agree that Pwyll had indeed behaved in a most worthy fashion, and should be treated as an honored friend.

And after that, Pwyll was no longer known simply as the Prince of Dyfed, but was called Pen Annwn.

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