It was the custom in the court of King Arthur on New Year’s Eve that no lord or lady would leave the feasting hall until a miracle had occurred. Each year it had been so, but on this year everyone waited and waited. Nothing happened. Then, just at that time between this day and the next, a hush fell upon the earth. Outside the doors, they heard the sound of a horse’s hooves on the cobblestone. The doors to Arthur’s great hall burst open. A whirlwind of leaves and debris skittered into the room. It was followed by a huge steed, ears plastered to the side of its head, nostrils flared, eyes on fire, hooves dancing in the air. The rider on its back was even more fierce—the Green Knight. He was green from head to toe. He held a great two-headed battle ax in one hand.

   The Green Knight rode to Arthur’s table, burying the head of the ax into the wood just inches from Arthur’s face.

   "Knights of the Round Table! Let one of you take up my weapon and strike me, then I will strike him in turn."

   No one moved.

   "Knights of the Round Table, you are cowards!"

   Now Arthur himself stood, but before Arthur could speak, Sir Gawain, the youngest and most rash of his knights said, "My King, this is not for you. It is for me!"

   Gawain strode around the table. It took both his hands and all his strength to free the ax from the table. The Green Knight knelt before him. Gawain raised the ax and brought it down, severing the Green Knight’s head from his shoulders.

   Everyone held their breath as the huge body swayed from side to side. They waited for it to fall, but it did not. Instead, the Green Knight reached for his head with one hand. He took the ax from Gawain with the other.

   The head spoke, "Sir Gawain, you will meet me in a year and a day at the green chapel and receive your blow."

   The Green Knight then leapt upon his horse and rode off into the coming day. No one moved for a long time. Finally, in silence, they went home. For days no one would speak of what they had seen or heard. Yet, Gawain knew the bargain he had made. He practiced for battle each day.

   Gawain did not know the whereabouts of the green chapel, so he left on his journey toward death early in the fall to search for it. He asked each person he found, but none knew.

   "No, Sir Knight, I do not know."

   "I fear, Sir Knight, I cannot tell."

   Finally, it was just three days before Gawain would meet the Green Knight and his doom. Light rain had begun to fall and Gawain was soaked to the skin. He rode through a strange forest and came to a clearing where there was a great manor house.

   Gawain pounded on the door "Let me in. I am a knight seeking shelter from the storm!"

   A servant answered the door and led Gawain to a feasting hall. There was a table that spanned the entire room and it was laden with food and drink of every kind. At one end of the table sat a large man in a fine robe, the lord of the manor.

   "Come, Sir Knight, sit, eat, rest, and we will talk."

   Sir Gawain told his host about the Green Knight, the green chapel, and what he had to do.

   "Ah my friend, you are in luck. This place you seek is just an hour’s ride from this house," his host smiled. "But as you say, you have three days before you must meet this Green Knight and do battle. Until then, why not remain here and enjoy my hospitality?"

   Gawain liked this idea for indeed the place was most comfortable and his host was pleasant.

   "And," his host added. "We will bide our time in a game. I will hunt each day and share the best of what I find with you. Whatever you receive in my absence, you will share with me. Is this to your liking?"

   Indeed, Sir Gawain welcomed the diversion and the two men shook hands on it. They talked into the night and then each went to his room to sleep.

   Bright and early the next morning, the lord of the manor went hunting. Gawain remained in bed. He was in no hurry to start the day and lay there enjoying the appointments of the room. The walls were covered in splendid tapestries and the furniture made of exotic woods.

   At that moment, the door creaked open and a finger of light crossed the room, touching the bed. There standing the doorway, surrounded in light, was the most beautiful woman Gawain had ever seen. She seemed to float as she crossed the room to sit at the foot of the bed.

   Gawain pulled the covers up to his chin. "Lady, it is not seemly for you to be in my chamber. What do you want?"

   The lady laughed, "Sir Gawain, I am the lady of this house and I come and go as it pleases me." She paused, a knowing smile on her face and added "It pleases me to ask you for a kiss."

   Gawain thought to himself that he could not kiss his host’s wife and yet, to refuse the wish of a lady was against the code of chivalry. The lady would be dishonored. Gawain, being a clever man, took the lady’s hand in his and kissed it.

   The lady pulled her hand free and looked at it.

   "What kind of kiss was that for a great knight of the Round Table?" she asked. "But, it must do for I must attend to business."

   She left as gracefully as she had come.

   Sir Gawain spent the rest of his day lazing about, enjoying the man’s gardens and library. At the end of the day, his host returned from the hunt with a deer slung about his shoulder. This he had taken to the kitchen and had its heart cut out. The heart was presented to Gawain–the best of what he had found that day.

   After the two men had feasted, his host leaned forward, "I have shared with you, my friend. Now you must share with me."

   Sir Gawain blushed. He rose and walked to stand before his host. He took the man’s hand in his, a hand as big as Gawain’s face, and kissed it.

   "Ho ha!" his host laughed. "I like you! You are a man of honor, a man of his word!" He slapped Gawain on the back, nearly sending him across the room. "We shall do this again tomorrow!"

   Gawain agreed.

   The next day was the same as the last. His host went hunting and Gawain rested late into the morning. The door to his room opened and that beautiful woman stood there. Again, she seemed to float across the room. She sat closer to Gawain.

   He pulled the covers up to his neck, "Lady? What do you want?"

   She smiled. "I want a kiss."

   Gawain, still a clever man on all accounts, leaned forward. The lady closed her eyes. She smelled of sweet perfume. Gawain felt for one moment light headed, then he kissed her cheek.

   "Gawain, you are a silly man, but it will have to do."

   Again, the lady left him there.

   Near the day’s end, Gawain’s host returned from hunting. This time he held a brace of hares, one larger than the other. He had the largest cooked and served to Gawain. When the men had feasted, his host sat back.

   "I am anxious to see what you have to share today, my friend," his host smiled.

   Gawain rose and walked to the end of the table. He bent forward, kissed one bearded cheek, and then the other.

   "Ho ha!" his host cried. "I like you! A man of honor! A man of honor, indeed! Let us do this again tomorrow."

   Gawain gave his host his hand on it.

   Bright and early the next day, Gawain’s host went on the hunt once more. The door to Gawain’s room opened. There stood the lady with her hair cascading down her shoulders like water.

   She sat beside Gawain. He felt frozen in place, overpowered by her presence. The lady leaned over Gawain, her hair making a curtain about his face. Their lips were nearly touching.

   "Kiss me," she whispered.

   He could not resist and kissed her lips.

   "Now, that is a kiss," she said. "I have something else I’d like to give you."

   Gawain sat up and held up his hand before him. "Lady, you have given me enough already. I cannot take anything else."

   The lady smiled and unbuckled a green belt from her waist. "Gawain, I wish to give you my belt."

   "No," Gawain insisted. "I could not be seen with it."

   "Gawain. This is no ordinary belt. As long as you wear it, no weapon can do you harm. You can hide it under your shirt where no one will see it."

   Gawain thought about his head on his shoulders, where he liked it very much, and took the belt. He fastened it about his waist, pulling his shirt over it.

   When the lord of the manor returned from the hunt, he had captured a small wild bird. He had it prepared for his guest. The men talked, ate, and when they were finished his host sat back with his belly full.

   "Now my friend, I am most eager to see what you received this day."

   Gawain walked to the end of the table and stood before his host. He leaned forward until their lips were nearly touching and kissed him full upon the lips!

   "I like you. I like you. I like you!" his host exclaimed. He shook his head and smiled. "You are truly a man of honor." Suddenly, he appeared quite grave. "I wonder, is there anything else?"

   Gawain felt the belt beneath his shirt. He looked his host in the eye. "No, my lord, there is nothing else."

   "Very well," said his host. "Then on the morrow I will show you the way to the green chapel."

   The day dawned fair and the two men rode to the edge of the forest. Gawain’s host pointed the way.

   "Just one hour’s ride in that direction my lord, you will find the place you seek," he looked at Gawain. "You will be missed."

   Gawain rode toward his doom.

   As his host had promised, within the hour Gawain came to a place in the autumn forest where the leaves were still green upon the trees. The forest opened to a glade. There stood the Green Knight waiting, his axe planted firmly before him. He motioned for Gawain to come forward. Gawain dismounted and moved slowly into the glade his eyes upon his foe, his hand upon the belt beneath his shirt. He came before the Green Knight, fully aware of his promise and willing to keep it. Gawain knelt.

   "Make my death swift, my lord," he pleaded.

   Without a word, the Green Knight raised his axe and brought it down toward Gawain’s bent head. Arthur’s knight felt a rush of air as the blade passed his left ear. The Green Knight missed. Gawain felt a knot twist in his stomach.

   The Green Knight raised the axe again. This time Gawain felt the axe blade pass his right ear. He missed again! The knot twisted so tightly in Gawain’s stomach he could no longer bear it. He leapt to his feet and began running toward his horse, but the Green Knight called him back.

  "My lord! Where is your honor?"

   Gawain stopped in his tracks. A man is nothing without honor. A knight is far less. Gawain returned to his knees.

   "Please my lord, I beg you make it swift."

   The Green Knight lifted the axe again and brought it down upon Gawain’s neck. Yet, he did not sever Gawain’s head. He just nicked the skin so that Gawain felt a trickle of blood down his shoulder.

   Now Gawain rose quickly to his feet and reached for his sword, not looking at his opponent.

   "Now we shall fight as men should fight!"

   The voice that replied was somehow strange and calm.

   "Gawain, it is finished."

   Gawain looked up surprised to find, not the Green Knight standing before him, but his host of the last three days.

   Bewildered Gawain said, "I don’t understand. What trickery is this?"

   "Gawain, I am your host and the Green Knight as well." He changed from one to the other that Gawain could see it was so.

   "I don’t understand," said Gawain. "Why do you do this?"

   "Sir Knight, I sent my wife to test you. You failed the test. I missed with the first blow for the kiss upon my hand. It was the best you received that day. The second blow I missed for the kiss upon my cheek, you did as you promised. But, with the third I drew blood for what you did not share."

   Gawain hung his head in shame. To save his own life, he had lost his honor. He removed the belt and handed it to its rightful owner.

   His host, the Green Knight, took the belt and handed it back to him. "Now Gawain, I give you this belt as a gift. Wear it always to remind you of the day that you were less than perfect."

   Gawain took the belt and wore it, with the scar upon his neck, until the end of his days. He never forgot the day that he discovered what it truly meant to be a man.

The Green Knight represents the living forest, a Celtic god. The green chapel is a sacred grove in the forest. The belt is also green, symbolic of life. Although it ends up not being a magic belt it is a symbol of Gawain's new life as a man. 

From the perspective of a Hero tale, the green Knight is Gawain's mentor. Hero's are not born, they are made. The hero must be tested, but doesn't' not always pass the test, What is important is that the hero grows in some way because of it. The hero is a raw stone from the side of the mountain, not being fully formed until polished, then the hero has value.