Private Tales Flares

[Lorcán]

Lorcán's lips twitched. Yes Maeve did outrank her, as did he and though rank wasn't a thing he often called, he had the nauseating urge to remind her of it before she did so herself. He didn't particularly care that the female was ignoring him, but as he glanced between the two of them, witnessing Maeve's anxiety and Fiadh's softening tone, he allowed himself to settle just a little. He may already dislike her presence, but if she was important to Maeve and treated his mate with the care and respect he'd underlined in their deal then he'd grin and bear it.

He met Maeve's emerald gaze and said nothing. This was her matter to deal with, and he'd let her deal with it however she wished. His priority was her safety, and now that he understood that Fiadh wasn't likely to do anything that might jeopardise that, he settled a little more.

But I won't endanger this place, or Lorcán. They're where my allegiance lies now.

His dark eyes narrowed with warmth at his mate's declaration, his chest puffing a little with pride. He leaned to her to press a firm kiss to her temple before rising from his seat and giving the two some space to chat, taking himself over to the window to sip at a cup of wine.

 

[Fiadh]

Gods, this poor girl was struggling. Fiadh felt a pang of pity for her situation. Pulled out of the mortal world and thrust into that of the fae, where a god she had once worshiped was now a peer of sorts. It scraped at Fiadh’s better senses and, had she been anyone else, she might have sneered at the claim.

But this one was hers, was special. She could feel it like the warmth of a glowing fire sitting this close to her. It was difficult to remain serious and not smile and ogle at her in awe.

“Of course,” Fiadh readily agreed. “I want you to be safe, and if that means aligning with Prince Lorcán then I am happy to comply to these terms. Your safety comes before anything else, and so that shall extend to this place and these people.” There was an earnest honesty in her quick reply. She glanced over at the prince as he moved away to afford them a little more privacy, and this time it wasn’t even a glare. The new bond on her shoulder was still warm.

Fiadh scooted closer to the edge of her seat and didn’t touch her drink. Her free hand was curled into her lap, her golden brown fingers were turning white as they clenched in a fist. She smiled and laughed nervously, then just as quickly dismissed it.

“I’m sorry, I'm still reeling. No offense, but I wasn’t really expecting to find a person at the end of… this.” She traced an invisible line from her chest toward Maeve. “I’d like to start somewhere simple but none of this seems simple. I don’t know how a human becomes fae. It’s not…” Her smile faltered as the lie pricked her tongue. “Well now I suppose I do believe it’s possible,” she laughed nervously again.

Sitting across from Maeve was not a poise, elegant god in all her terrifying glory. Instead sat a woman who looked almost as young as she did who was nervous, afraid to believe what was right in front of her and unable to do anything but believe it.

 

[Maeve]

There wasn't a word to encompass the look of utter joy and love that flittered across her face at Lorcán's kiss to her temple. It lasted for only a second but it outshone the sun with its warmth. But it wasn't just her mate's touch that had her glowing. Sunlight glowed just beneath her skin and bathed her from the inside out causing the tiny little stars swirled amongst the deep blue ink of her tattoos to look like actual living stars. For a second and then it was gone with Maeve looking none the wiser to it even happening. In fact she looked back to being normal and nervous, chewing the inside of her cheek as she also chewed over her words. After a hesitant few seconds she finally nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," she offered a weak smile then sipped her tea.

As Fiadh went on though Maeve listened attentively. A flicker of confusion bent her brows for a moment before she realised what she meant by the twirling motion she did with her fingers between the two of them and her initial words came back to her again. The Dreams. She had never thought for a moment that they had been about someone.

"I just thought they were... dreams," Maeve said weakly and set her cup back down. Where did she even start? With a sigh she pushed strands of hair behind both her pointed ears then clasped her hands in her lap. "When I was a baby I was very sick. I should have died, but my parents they begged at the Grove for a miracle and... Lorcán arrived. He healed me by giving me a piece of his soul. I think... that is why as I grew up I was able to See and I could talk to the wind but I also believe it... grew because of the Gifts..." her gifts passed down to her people through Liath's deal. She took a deep breath and ploughed on.

Maeve told her everything. Her flight from the Isle, being rescued by Liath until his sudden disappearance. How she had ended up a prisoner to tribal elves in the forests of the Falwood and her escape as her magick begun to rapidly grow. How she had resolved to find a way to kill the Prince she owed her life to only to fall hopelessly in love with him in a little wooden cabin the day before he had died. Her tentative theory on how she had healed him with a piece of her soul and why that had brought forth her own transformation into fae as she reached for too magic for a human to hold. Her own hurt pride and self protection that had made her run and how Lorcán had found her again in the cells of the Summer Court.

When she was finished she sat back exhausted but... content. She hadn't gone to a confessional since her flight and it seemed she had had a lot on her chest.

"It must be my fault... the dreams... but I don't know how to control them, I'm sorry," she sighed.

 

[Fiadh]

Maeve seemed desperate to confess and Fiadh listened, nodding and responding with simple sounds where appropriate. By the time she had finished, Fiadh was sitting back in the sofa with one leg folded elegantly over the other. A warming spell kept the tea in her hands warm though barely more than a sip remained.

It was a lot -- much more than she had expected to get out of her today -- and it answered many of her questions. Now she had a very good idea what had drawn her here and why she was having these dreams, and turning her mind inward for only a moment confirmed it. It was mildly embarrassing that she hadn't figured it out on the way here. Then again, what had happened had previously been impossible.

"You have quite the story. There are fae who live less interesting lives in millennia than you have lived in a decade." She laughed.

Maeve apologized for the dreams, which was very sweet but honestly too much. Fiadh held up a hand.

"You must agree not to apologize for something neither of us can yet understand. Learning magick is like… learning a language. You might know the word for this, but do you know how to conjugate it? Write it?” She shook her head. “You are young, but you are learning as an adult what fae learned as children; in a year you’ve gained magick we acquire over decades. You’ve no reason to apologize to me, Maeve, and If your story is true (and I’m left no cause to doubt that new fae tongue of yours), then there is a much simpler explanation. Since you’re no longer Erainn but fae, it is something I suppose you’re entitled to know about our shared history.”

A ‘simpler explanation’ might have been a stretch of the truth. Fiadh scooted to the edge of her seat once again and leaned forward. She finished her tea and set down the cup to free her hands.

“When my family first gave of ourselves to your people in our original deal, I was still very young. But my father, being the scrutinizing man he is, decided that my mortal line would be the rulers of the Erainn. Unlike some, my father’s provisions for my future were built in glory rather than strife.” She cast a knowing glance in Lorcán’s direction. “What I imparted might have been greater than the others’, but I had a steady stream of offerings and worship -- something many Courts underestimate the power of.

“For what I gave of myself, our family --” She gestured back to Maeve. “-- gained a great deal of magick. They were stronger and lived longer lives. They were immune to curses and had the Sight. They caught and made pacts with conduits to strengthen their magick. They were, in a sense, fae among men. And when they flourished, so did I. Our powers waxed and waned together.

“But what your legends didn’t tell you was that I didn’t just impart my magick to your ancestors. My gift was a piece of my own soul. About a quarter of it, to be exact, which has since been spread to subsequent generations through your lineage. Very tricky business and very forbidden, but my father is always pushing the envelope.

“Now that it’s been…” She rolled her hand, looking for the explanation that felt right. “Awakened, it must have drawn the unallocated remnants of my gift not being used by others who share your bloodline. There is always some offall between generations, always something extra left to account for how prolific you humans can be. I had an innate sense of those who possessed a piece of me, but now that it’s all in one place it’s much noisier. Soul magic is a very sloppy business and never manifests quite like we expect, am I right?” Fiadh laughed gently, as amused by the unexpected results of Maeve’s act of love to save Lorcan’s life as her own life’s fumbles of youth.

There was a warmth in her eyes as she regarded the pair, an awe she hadn’t felt looking at a member of the Erainn in a long time. Then, with a look of surprise, she added quickly.

“That does not mean that I have any claim of ownership to that piece of me you’ve made your own. It is a gift, Maeve. It is yours now and, I suspect, much more than what I originally gave you. That piece of you has once lived inside your entire history. Well.” She hid her mischievous grin behind coy fingers. “Most of it.”

A very important piece of that history and a large share of Fiadh’s gift still remained in one other individual.

“It is curious, though, that you’ve managed so much of it.” Fiadh’s brow creased in pensive worry. Her fingers tapped idly against her lips. How had Maeve obtained such a large part of her soul? Were there really so few of her family left? Her father wouldn’t have been that careless in her absence. Fiadh’s eyes drifted away and she pursed her lips in thought.

 

[Lorcán]

Fiadh's answer to Maeve's terms mollified him yet further. The new level of protectiveness was something he was still trying to get used to, and the possessiveness, he knew was.. potentially problematic. Lorcán knew there had to be boundaries, he knew he had to try hard not to be overbearing and though he had never mentioned such a thing, should anyone ask him if he'd once or twice considered binding his mate to this house, he'd have been unable to say no. Such thoughts had come to him in his moments of panic, when he could barely breathe at the thought of someone harming her or taking her from him. Resisting those urges had driven him to the point of pain, and even now he could feel the tension that had built upon Fiadh's arrival here.

She isn't here to harm her.

She isn't here to take her from you.

Still. It didn't mean that he liked the female, but the least he could do right now was trust that Maeve was safe and give her space.. Or at least, a few feet of it. It was a work in progress. He remained quiet, sipping his wine and listening to Maeve's telling of her story and then more carefully to Fiadh's words, feeling the glance in his direction and turning his head only slightly, but the talk of her soul had regained his full attention and he turned to her.

"Your soul?" he asked incredulously with a glance to Maeve. "You mean she has a piece of both of our souls as well as her own?.." Lorcán couldn't even begin to comprehend what that might mean. He too had thought it impossible for a mortal to turn fae, but for a mortal to contain so much power without combusting was another thing entirely. He knew his own power, his mother and father were both particularly powerful fae and he in turn had taken gifts from each of them. His power was something that struck fear into the hearts of any who witnessed it, but it was also something that he knew could consume him if not properly managed. Power like that needed an outlet.

His hand absently rubbed at the spot on his chest where Maeve's handprint was forever branded into his skin. He thought of how he'd used her power without realising that he could and the shock on his father's face when he had.

"Will you teach her?" he asked quickly before he could bite the words back. "Help her hone it?.." Protect her from it. For all they knew, Maeve could be more powerful than they were. He had never known a fae to hold three souls, and if she learned to use those gifts...

Lorcán refilled his wine.

 

[Maeve]

The sick feeling was back.

As Fiadh had recounted her story Maeve had grown whiter and whiter until she now looked a sickly grey. On the one hand what she was being told went against every creation story she had ever heard and destroyed years of belief, but on the other hand she was blessed with the Truth that every good believer wanted to hear. And what kind of follower wouldn't want to know they had been blessed with more than just magick but a piece of their Gods soul? Her father would have cried tears of joy to hear it for it gave her family a renewed reason to claim power over the others of her tribe. They were not only blessed but, in a way, were Gods themselves. Or part of one anyway.

Maeve just didn't want to be a part of the story. A story that was now incredibly real.

Three souls.

She let her mate speak over her head and for her about the powers. Yes, she thought dimly, it was probably a good idea to learn to control it. But her focus was on conversations she had had with her parents that had never made sense until now. They all begun to click together like some horrifying jigsaw. Flashes of memories where her mother taught her how she was actually descended from all seven of the tribes royal families. How her birth had been planned as a way to reunite the clans under one banner once more, to bring peace as the lands had not known since Liath. Of her her father had told her of her birth at the height of the summer solstice that was surely a sign she had been blessed by the Goddess herself. Of the few emotional details she had wrangled from her grandmother about her sickness as a child like her body hadn't been able to handle the light of her soul. Of being able to talk to the Wind itself, the disasters that had happened when she was angry, of the blessing that her tribe had escaped the plague that ravished the other tribes. Had it all been her? Had this magick been... leaking from her without her knowledge growing like a fuse ready to explode?

"Am I going to die?" she asked faintly, interrupting whatever conversation the two were having without her. About her.

 

[Fiadh]

Fiadh nodded, looking to Lorcán. At least he was discussing it with her instead of trying to smite her for it. A better reaction than she had expected, in all honesty.

“And a fair portion of my own, if she is manifesting powers.” And what a repertoire she had. Both darkness and light. It was unheard of in the fae world; she was one of a kind in more than one sense. No doubt, it would only add to the imperative of keeping her well hidden here.

Her eyes followed his hand to his chest, and she recalled the handprint she’d thought little of in the orchard but now reflected upon after her story. They’d made something dangerous. The weight of that realization settled on Fiadh’s shoulders.

Did the other Courts know about her? Did his father?? Her golden features paled and her fingers traced her upper lip.

“Of course,” she answered quickly. “Fire might not be able to burn her, but it is dangerous to the people and places around her. And my affinity -- our affinity is sunlight. If she is gaining the full powers of a mature duanann at this rate…” Fiadh fell silent. She, like Lorcán, had been born strong for their kind. Uniting their abilities even at the cost of their drawbacks? She was as potentially powerful as two duanann in one.

“Well let’s just say that if you value the orchard or the people living in your city, she definitely needs a teacher before her new affinity fully manifests. Sunlight is not always easy to manage and can carry a heavy toll on her body.”

She was quiet for another moment, something very frightening occuring to her. When she spoke again she was still focusing on Lorcán. “Has she shown a unique affinity of her own?”

But before she could get an answer to that, Maeve peeped a very simple, very heart wrenching question.

“No! No, darling,” Fiadh said quickly. She abruptly rose and walked around the table. She plunked down beside her and took her hands. “You are very new and we have a lot of things to figure out together, but you’re not going to die.”

Not that she knew she would. There was always the possibility, but they were entirely out of her element. She glanced past Maeve to catch the prince’s eye. The girl between them might have been a mate and a fae like them now, but there needed to be a private conversation between the two of them to discuss Maeve’s future on her behalf.

“We are going to take good care of you. This is all very scary, but you seem strong and healthy. Now.” She patted her hands and smiled brightly, a reassurance that showed not a trace of her personal doubts. “Let's get your mind off of this dilemma. Why don’t you tell me about home? I have been gone for a very long time.” She smiled between the pair. “How was my father when you visited the isles? It is very odd that he let you pass through; he has always been very strict about denying outsiders passage."

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcán felt the rush of nausea, though it wasn’t his own. He didn’t need to be his mate’s empath to see the fear on her face. His fist tightened by his side, and he’d been a moment away from banishing Fiadh from their home as quickly as he could when Maeve asked the question that she did. Pain registered on the Prince’s face, a pain he felt in his chest that quickly rose to his throat.

“No.” he growled, though he hadn’t meant the word to sound as aggressive as it had. He’d taken a step toward her, intent on comforting her, though Fiadh had already gotten to her feet and he stopped, his hand dragging up his brow and into his dark locks. His eyes darkened, and they settled upon Fiadh, meeting her gaze as she claimed that they would take care of her. His jaw tightened, but he gave the female a slow nod. Anything, Anything to ensure that Maeve would see this transition through. There was much he didn’t understand, and Fiadh was clearly able to help Maeve a lot more than he could. It was a jealousy he’d need to put up with, but yes. They had to talk.

Even with Fiadh’s reassurance, even with his own, he couldn’t shake the fear, now wholly his own and kept to himself. So much power was not meant to be held in a mortal body, and magic so inherently different was not supposed to coexist. He had questions that he didn’t even know if Fiadh would have the answers to. Would it coexist? Would the darkness and light work against one another? Would the power turn against her? Would she survive it if it did?

He felt sick, and yet was the picture of calm as he approached the pair, setting his empty cup down and leaning to press an affectionate kiss on Maeve’s head.

“I’ll let you two talk.” he frowned. The last thing she needed right now was his anxieties, or his temper. He trusted Fiadh with her and the look he gave the duanann was one that said as much, but also said if he was wrong to trust her he’d take her head from her shoulders. “I have some things to take care of. Fiadh, make yourself at home for now. Perhaps Maeve might show you around if you wish.” he dipped his chin and strode from the room, trying his best to keep his shadows in check.

 

[Maeve]

No.
No!

Maeve glanced between them both with a bewildered look like a hare caught between two hunters. They reacted as polar opposite to one another as their magics. Fiadh was soft and warm like a summer sun whilst Lorcán was as fierce and protective as the night. Both were comforting in their own ways and she begun to nod automatically at their assurances. Fae couldn't lie after all. And yet... Mae watched silently as her mate brushed off the question and excused himself with all the polite hospitality a host needed to provide. Shadows licked at his heels like hounds and then disappeared as the door clicked shut softly behind him. Her own fear was hard to separate from his own though he tried to close the door on that between them too. It hurt her but she understood how difficult this was for him. He threw into a possessive rage if she stubbed her toe but this?

"He's scared," she said softly after staring at the door for quite some time in silence. Brilliant green eyes then turned to Fiadh and though they churned with a thousand emotions words would struggle to describe she managed a wobbly smile of sorts and suddenly stood up. "Would you like to see the gardens?" It wasn't really a question as such. The girl needed out. Barely waiting - as was right - for Fiadh's nod she led the other fae out through the large French doors that let in so much light to the sitting room.

The gardens were a personal project Maeve had taken on. It had been a way to cope after the torture and she had been too nervous to venture out alone amongst the fae that called this place home. Now it was a hobby of love and the gardens reflected it. The perfect balance of wild and cultivated with perfectly kept stepping-stone paths through arches of wild hanging blooms and twisting climbers. Maeve set off in a seemingly random direction where purple and pink wisteria nearly blotted out the sun entirely. She clasped her hands in front of her as they walked.

"I haven't been home since I left. I don't know if I could find it if I tried though, maybe now that's different..." As a human it had been veiled from her eyes - would it be if she was fae? "When... When were you last there? I can try and fill you in on some history I guess. I'm afraid it is a lot of war, though," she laughed awkwardly. Goddess, was that-- Wait... was her grandmother right? Could Fiadh hear every time she cursed? Maeve eyes the other fae warily then decided she couldn't have been able to hear her.

"I'm not sure a history lesson is exactly why you came here, though," she said softly. "What exactly were you going to do when you found what was at the end of your dreams?"

 

[Fiadh]

Make yourself at home. She did not think he meant it literally. He must have been truly upset by this turn of events to discard his careful, precise wording in favor of a casual statement as he made his escape.

Fiadh nodded and smiled pleasantly in response to his offer, but she watched him go thoughtfully.

She hadn’t meant to disrupt their life by coming. She’d only been trying to find the source of her dreams, to end her discomfort and satisfy her curiosity. She was partly to blame for this mess that was causing strife between mates.

Her rare conscience reared its ugly head, and its teeth were as sharp as a lion’s.

She smiled when Maeve broke the silence. “I would love to see the gardens. I think some sun and air will do us all some good.”

She got the impression that this wasn’t merely a polite tour of the grounds, but Fiadh followed patiently. She did not have to pretend to marvel at the garden and its beauty for it was quite beautiful. Someone had dedicated a great deal of time and attention to it, and she thought she knew who. Fiadh stole glances at the young fae as they walked together, unsure what to say or if the girl was even ready to have the peaceful quiet broken.

It was a relief when she did it for her. Even if the topic was Delbhna.

“If you have a map, I can show it to you later?” she offered. “And I can make you a pass to grant you entry onto the isles. Although, if your mate went, then I imagine you could use his.” It was still odd that Lorcán had been on the isles. What sort of business had he had there? It wasn’t like her father to consort with foreign Courts. They were isolated for a reason. That was why she’d left.

Then the question of when she was last home. Fiadh’s smile weakened. On the heels of Liath’s recent accusations, the reminder hit her rare conscience again. Her bane today, that.

“Ah, something like a thousand years? Not long in the grand scope of things, as ridiculous as that may seem to you. But you mortals live so fast, I’m sure you’ve been busy while I’ve been gone.” You mortals. She bit her lip. Well. Maeve wasn’t a mortal anymore. “‘There was war’ summarizes it for me fine. So it was when I was there, and so, I fear, it forever shall be.”

Maeve asked another good question and Fiadh hummed thoughtfully. How much to say, how much to say…?

“Firstly, I wasn’t expecting the source to be a person. Secondly…” She looked around them, making sure they were alone. Then, twining her arms around Maeve’s she leaned in to whisper playfully. “Don’t tell Lorcán, but I was definitely going to steal whatever it was,” she giggled girlishly. “Of course, I cannot steal you, nor do I want to. Mates are a sacred thing -- and so rare! You are very fortunate to become fae and have a mate. I certainly don’t have one. Fate must like you.”

She pouted, trying to soften the blow of her mischievous confession. After a moment of looking down at Maeve, her soft, glowing smile returned.

“So you’ve been having dreams, too? What do you dream about? What have you felt?” There was a bit of awe in her eyes, a raptness to her attention. She wanted to listen to her and marvel a bit longer before she had to acknowledge the ugly realities once more.

 

[Maeve]

Fiadh's laugh was infectious and she couldn't help but giggle along with her like two schoolgirls sharing a secret they had hidden from the teacher. On top of the complicated war within her of trying to consolidate her old beliefs with her new reality, that Fiadh was a Goddess she had been taught for 18 years to revere and worship with the reality that they were now equals or their reversed positions, Maeve was also trying to process the feeling of kin she felt to the other fae. It went far beyond the fact they shared the same home in a roundabout way. What she felt for Fiadh was the same kind of warmth that she felt for her mother or father. She had no siblings but imagined it might be similar to that too. Was it because she had some of this woman's soul? Did the two parts yearn and love one another even separated as they were? They were philosophical questions she didn't think she would ever be able to answer and even if she could, would it help her in anyway to process and deal with them?

Her question made Maeve bite the inside of her cheek even as a blush coated her skin.

"I didn't realise the dreams meant anything..." she sounded almost apologetic. She'd of course told Lorcan about them but she had thought it a part of her transformation and nothing to do with someone else. "But they've all been quite similar. Or at least, they've felt similar. Like warm summer sunshine," this time her tone was wistful and full of adoration. Feelings those dreams had conjured for brighter days far from winter.

"I had dreams about home but far before I knew it, when there were less clans, and I had dreams about being a hummingbird marvelling at a garden. I've had dreams about pretty dresses... and people I don't know but I felt like I did. I think I was at a party," she frowned in remembrance, straining for the details.

 

[Fiadh]

Fiadh grinned wider and wider hearing about Maeve's dreams. Sunshine. The isles. And flying! She had been having the dreams too! How odd. The older she got and the more she learned about magick, the less she seemed to understand it or what her father had done to create something so powerful and complicated.

"That's me," she laughed. "Maeve, I am sunshine and a hummingbird. Those weren't just dreams, those were the isles as they were long ago. Our shared history, our legacy, our home."

She sighed, patting Maeve's arm but not releasing her just yet.

"I am sorry I cannot fix this or tell you more specifically why it is happening. And I am sorry if I have caused you and your mate any strife. I am not…" She paused to purse her lips and look around, considering whether or not she wanted to admit this. "I am not always the most considerate person, but I genuinely want you and Lorcán to be happy."

Sincerity was not part of her repertoire. If it was, Delbhna's history might have unfolded differently, might have been more prepared for the loss of the king that had once united it.

Liath might have liked her more. A lot of people that might have liked her more.

Moving briskly past the sappy stuff, she smiled brightly and released Mave to skip ahead of her on the path.

"Do you have an animal shape yet? Are you a bird, too? Oh! Or something else? I want ro know everything about you. I haven't spent time with family in a very long time."

 

[Maeve]

Maeve found herself warming to the woman who proclaimed to be the personification of sunshine itself. She could see it now she had said it, the way her skin glittered like jewels for one thing, but also the warmth that seemed to surround her in a fuzzy haze. The only other person she'd ever seen something similar around was herself, though it was very different. More suited to the darkness than the height of day. It was both bewildering and oddly comforting to know the dreams she had been having had an explanation, for which she would thank Fiadh, but she had to correct her when it came to her mate.

"You've not done anything wrong," she assured her softly and offered a warm smile that creased the corners of her eyes. "He'll be fine in a while, he just worries a lot. I assume you know of the Erlking..." she spread her hands as if that was all the necessary explanation and was glad when the topic moved to much more interesting and pleasant things.

Mae laughed at her enthusiasm.

"I... think it's a bird. I once managed to get the wings but I couldn't figure out the rest," she rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment. "Turning into something seems..." not human "unnatural," she grinned.

"But... I have been mastering some of my magick," she said shyly and then led Fiadh through a smaller path where the flowers arched fully over their heads and blocked out more of the sun. Taking a breath she concentrated and the darkness of the shadows seemed to deepen to true night. Then, among the darkness came tiny specs of starlight until the whole tunnel was filled with them in the perfect replica of the night sky.

 

[Fiadh]

Fiadh was not about to admit that she was terribly out of the loop, but she also couldn’t lie. She sniffed hautily, a gesture that betrayed her vain nature.

“I am not privy to the more intimate details as I imagine you must be, but everyone knows about the Erlking and his son.” There. That was a good compromise for her pride. Underinformed was not a good look on her. Still, she gathered that the public context was enough to grasp the deeper situation.

She wasn’t going to reiterate her mistake or her apology. That didn’t mean she wasn’t relieved that she hadn’t irreversibly damaged their relationship.

A bird! Or part of a bird! Thoughts of anything else flitted away as quickly as a flock fleeing to the air.

“Do not fret, darling. You were not born to this as the rest of us were. Fae grow into it, but it’s like… being exposed to languages as a child. We don’t notice we’re learning because we are young. I do not imagine it will be easy but it will be worthwhile.”

Wow. She sounded so wise. Fiadh patted Maeve’s shoulder.

She followed with curious excitement. For one so young, Maeve had a way of saying things that captured her interest quite effectively. Or, perhaps, it was just her bias. Maeve was, after all, a thing of her own (inadvertent) making. As they walked, Fiadh’s mind took the opportunity to turn over several questions that still hung in her mind. She followed caught glimpses of the young woman's features when they turned a bend in the garden path.

Maeve did look a lot like Liath. There was something in the angles, regal in human creation made exquisite by fae rebirth, and her hair was like the curl of a flame.

Fiadh pretended like that didn’t make her miss her warlock.

At last, Maeve arrived at an arbor. A tunnel, more like. Fiadh smiled up at the beautiful flora, assuming at first that these were the purpose of their walk. She reached up to touch the cool leaves reaching out toward her. As she did so, the shadows began to bleed like ink, darkening the arbor into the dome of the night sky. She felt the thrum of magick and the thinning of the light around them.

It was good magick. It took precision, control, and imagination. Fiadh didn’t have to fake awe and admiration.

“It’s beautiful,” she marveled. She turned around and extended a hand toward one of the little stars, testing Maeve’s creation. “Is it a trick of the light or true darkness?”

 

[Maeve]

"It's... both. I think."

At the touch of the other fae the starry light grew brighter against the ebony velvet of night. Maeve watched it with her arms loosely folded under her breasts. She looked like a nervous student in front of a tutor, watching as she judged her piece of art. It was certainly how she felt. There was nothing neat nor particularly clever about what she did or how she did it. What her magic created just simply was. As wild and natural as the real night sky. She just hoped Fiadh liked it.

"The darkness I knew came from Lorcan but I always wondered about the light... It's not as pretty as the summer sun but..." She glanced up to the constellations and milky galaxies she had created with the perfect harmony of two complete opposites and smiled faintly.

"The trouble is... controlling it," she admitted and rubbed the back of her neck. "Sometimes it just... I can't seem to stop it."

 

[Fiadh]

Both? The ability to shape light from Fiadh and the ability to shape darkness from Lorcan. A very unique mix of abilities. It was always the manipulation of one or the other, never really both. It opened up a whole new list of questions. On what cycles did her power wax and wane? What symptoms or drawbacks did she suffer from using her magick? What were the counterbalances to this incredible gift?

Like growing into their power, fae also grew into these and adjusted their lives accordingly. Maeve hadn’t had that learning curve. If it was as mild as Fiadh’s, then she’d be off easy. Other fae weren’t so fortunate, however, and if Maeve fell into that more severe category…

Now was not the time to be drilling her. Fiadh intended to milk the time she had with her, and saving ‘very important concerns’ to talk about later might buy her another day with her darling curiosity.

“The light is a gift from me, of course,” Fiadh said proudly. “Light is like fire, in that it is not always easily controlled.”

She reached out and swished her fingers through a galaxy. It began to swirl faster, burning up on itself. Fiadh turned to face Maeve.

“You can feel sunshine and heat, but you cannot hold them like you can earth or water. You cannot truly quench light like fire. It cannot be as easily conjured as air and it cannot be molded like earth. Light is less tangible than the other elements; it is always difficult to learn. Making darkness is even more complicated and, honestly, well outside of my abilities. Lorcan can be a good tutor on those skills, I’m sure.

“Light, however, is my specialty.”

Fiadh held her hand out to Maeve. In the vault of the night sky she had created, Fiadh could still mold the light. She created a tiny figure that danced and twinkled in her hand. A raven landed on her shoulder before the woman turned into a bird as well, and the two flew off together, becoming a pair of constellations in Maeve’s lovely night sky.

“I’ve no children and Liath is gods-know-where doing gods-know-what. I am, conveniently, a transient and far from home. If you need a tutor, it would be my delight.” She grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “Besides, if you’re on my side and I have an honest reason to be here, perhaps together we can convince Lorcan to let me stay longer.”

 

[Maeve]

Maeve had been bright for a human but she thought she might be woefully stupid for a fae. What Fiadh said made sense... sort of. Well, no, it hardly made any sense. She spoke of moving and manipulating the elements as though it were common and simple. For a girl whose hardest lessons had been in the bow or riding, there was nothing from which to base this new knowledge off of. It was a relief, therefore, when the goddess leaned in and offered herself up as a tutor. Lorcan had been trying his best already with the darkness she found herself able to manipulate, but he floundered when it came to the light.

The last time they'd tried she'd caused a storm that had raged for three days.

"Oh! Yes, please," she clasped hold of the other woman's hands and gave them a gentle squeeze before seeming to remember who exactly she was clasping and hastily let go with a bright flush to her cheeks. "I-if it doesn't inconvenience you."