Private Tales Healing of the Heart

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"This is your mother?" Sierra whispered to Cillian as they rolled up and Fraufrau came to a stop, pawing at the ground impatiently before bending her head to start munching on the sweet grass. Rose was not deterred by the much taller woman. She squirmed from Sierra's lap.

"Rose," Sierra began to warn as she launched her little body from the wagon and dashed the few steps to the female who had just yelled so loud the entire hamlet had probably heard. The dark-haired girl threw her arms around the other woman and looked upward, ice-blue eyes staring as she asked.

"Do I get to call you Grandma?"

Sierra was quickly at her daughter's side. "Rose, what have I told you about running up to strangers and giving them hugs?" A quiet scold as her grey-eyes quickly went to the taller fae. "I'm so so-," she paused remembering one of the many rules Cillian and her daughter instilled on her over and over.

Never say sorry.

"My daughter gets excited sometimes. Please forgive her."
 
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"Aye," Cillian replied miserably and was about to clamber out of the wagon with no small amount of reluctance when Rose darted off.

Morgase glanced down at the small child wrapped around her leg with raised greying brows then to Cillian. He could see the calculations behind her warm brown eyes; the lack of likeness between her son and this child, the clear mother of the woman, the way Cillian's eyes followed her. Her face smoothed as Sierra began to blurt out an apology and finally, after another glance to her son, looked down at the girl clutching at her leg.

Slowly, she crouched down to be eye level with Rose.

"I would prefer Gammy, it's what I called me own grandmother and I don't have as much grey hair as her yet," she chuckled and wrapped the girl in a firm hug, lifting her clean off the floor to balance on her hip.

"Come inside, there's cookies fresh from the oven. I think my son has a lot to explain," with that Morgase turned and walked into the house.

"Was that a threat?" Cillian murmured to Sierra. "It sounded like a threat."
 
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Sierra didn't hesitate in weaving her fingers through Cillian's own calloused palm. Her thumb smoothed over the outside of his hand. "A threat to eat cookies perhaps," she said, her lips twitching as she gave him a gentle tug toward following Morgase. The empath radiating small waves of comforting energy down the bond to her mate. A small smooth of the jagged edges of fear and trepidation but not completely taking them away.

Rose looked like she was already at home. The smell of homemade cookies firmly capturing her attention.

"Mom, Dad come on," she called after them as the tall fae carried her inside.

Sierra's chest constricted and expanded. A quiet smile up to Cillian as she gently lead him inside, after the two.
 
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Dad.

Cillian's heart squeezed. Cici had been a nickname he had contented himself to having for the rest of his life from Rose; he had never had intentions of taking the place of her real father. Even if he was not in the picture, Rose deserved to leave the door open for him if she chose to find him later on in life. But there was no denying the pleasure and deep felt love he got from hearing that word directed at him.

He allowed Sierra to tug her inside and almost forgot his mother was there. That was, until he saw his mothers face.

Cillian swallowed and dutifully sat down at the humble wooden table on a brightly coloured chair.

"So, you're mated," Morgase quipped as she looked between Sierra and her son, though her gaze was soft when it touched Sierra. "Please dear, do sit. Do you take tea?" she bustled about the kitchen with a tea pot having already set Rose up with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. "No letter, nothing, to at least warn me?"

Cillian slid down in his chair.

"It all happened rather quickly, ma. I thought... I thought ye would prefer..."

"To see my son? Gosh! What a novel idea. Here you go dear," she said sweetly to Sierra and set down a perfectly made cup of tea.
 
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No wonder why Cillian had never been scared of her. Look who he had as a mother. Though Rose was perfectly content munching on those cookies and sipping down her milk. Her blue-eyed gaze searched around the quirky-little space. No doubt looking for any creatures she could befriend.

Sierra's hand slipped beneath the table. A quiet rest of her fingers against Cillian's knee. A scrunch of her nose at the word mate. How did all the fae just know?

Her other hand quickly wrapped around the tea.

"Thank you," a clear of her throat. "I'm Sierra. You know Rose. Ma'am. Miss?" Sierra lifted the cup and took a careful sip.

Rose finished off the first cookie and with a mouth half full said, "Mmfmfm thses rmfff rllygood."
 
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"Call me Morgase, dear. We leprechauns hold no such formalities like tae others," the greying woman waved a hand like one would a bad smell; a clear sign of what she thought of the other fae and their customs. Cillian resisted rolling his eyes. It was all well and good the leprechauns not holding to customs, but those customs governed the rest of the fae world. A fae world Sierra and Rose would now be heavily involved in despite what he might do to stop it.

"It's not like that, Ma. Ye know it isn't," Cillian said sullenly and forced his mother to look him square on. The look she gave him made him wilt slightly but he held strong.

"Ye were tae one teh get it into ye head ye had tae go off travelin'! Only sendin' ye own ma the odd letter! And ye sister - abandoned! Wit'out ye or yer brother to help her wit her magic."

Cillian grimaced.

"I couldn't stay, I couldn't-" he broke off when Morgase began wagging a finger under his nose.

"What ye did was selfish Cillian. Do not pretend it was anything but for ye that ye left."
 
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Rose perked up, her mouth full of cookie as she asked. "Does that meanff I ave an Uncle and an Aunite?"

Sierra grimaced. "Rose, do not talk with your mouth full of food." Rose clamped her open mouth closed and began chewing furiously. A quick nod of her head to Mom.

"For what it's worth, Morgase," Sierra began. "If Cilli hadn't been where he was...we never would've met." She wasn't excusing his actions. Just pointing out that...they'd found each other. And for an Anirian to find a fae in the middle of Vel Anir. Well, that was nothing short of fate. Or a miracle. Or both.
 
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Morgase's hurmph indicated she wasn't convinced the gaining of a mate was good enough to outweigh the loss of her son in her life for the last few centuries. At least she hadn't offered a snarky remark. Cillian took that as a win and offered a lopsided grin to which his mother rolled her eyes and finally set a cup of tea in front of him. Forgiveness. Ish.

Cillian would take it.

"Ye 'ave an Aunt. And, I suppose, Cousins," Morgase continued and Cillian's head whipped towards his mother.

"I'm a Uncle?!"

"Aye, tae triplets wid ye believe," Morgase chuckled. "I'm sure they'll be over soon, they usually come for dinner on a Sunday."
 
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Rose swallowed and smiled, a bit of chocolate on one of her front teeth. "Are they my age?" Sierra could feel the hope oozing off of Rose. Yellow was the string she saw to the emotion and it flickered and shimmered in a haze of that hue in the air around her daughter.

While she and Cillian and all the animals she'd found were good company, she could see Rose craved to be around others her age. There had been some of that on the isles. Before Cillian, she had kept to herself, moreso out of her own protection. Being homeschooled - sometimes seeing other children on the Academy grounds. But most other children on those grounds were not Rose's age. And if they were, they were conscripted as kids.

Sierra felt a twinge of guilt.

She knew Rose had been happy these past few months - happier than she'd ever been. But perhaps it would be better if she and Cillian traveled less. Returned to their glen? She didn't know what school might look like for Rose.

Gray-eyes shifted away from Rose as she looked between Cillian and Morgase, picking up on the subtle shifts of each of their emotions. At least the angry reds and oranges were receding between them.
 
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Cillian felt dumbstruck. His self exile had meant he hadn't been there for his sister as she not only found love, but the happiness of being a mother too. Guilt sat like a hard rock in his stomach as Morgase continued.

"Aye, I would 'ave said around yer age lass," she stroked a hand down the girls hair with a warm smile. Even as she did that Cillian wandered how he hadn't pieced it together sooner; his mother had always been good with children but she had warmed to Rose far too quickly, accepted the term grandmother without a flinch. Still, he found the nausea eased somewhat when he realised that if they were close in age he hadn't missed too much of their lives.

He just hoped his sister could find it in her heart to forgive him.

"I'm sorry Ma,"
he said, leaning forward to take his mothers hand in his, his voice thick with tears. "I really did think what I was doin' - leavin' - was for the best."

Morgase studied her son and then folded her hand over his and gave it a squeeze.

"I know son, I know," she heaved a deep breath then finally turned her attentions to Sierra. "So, why don't ye tell me about yerself, girl?"
 
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Something in her heart cracked as Cillian's emotions poured forward. Deep blues and blacks flickered in the air around him from magical hues that only she could see. Her hand lifted and began rubbing gentle, soothing circles around his back.

Rose's grin only widened before she nodded resolutely at Grandma who she vowed to call Gamgam eventually. It sounded like she would meet some new friends today and the little girl was excited.

Sierra's eyes went to Morgase's. Like Cillian, she was tall. Most fae seemed to be a lot taller than an ordinary human. What was she supposed to say?

She was an ex-dreadlord?

A war veteran?

A smuggler that had lead an underground movement to free magical children?

But she had nothing to hide. And if there were going to be problems, better to face them head on.

"I am, was, a dreadlord for Vel Anir. Grew up along the Cortosi Coast before they came for me and brought me to the Academy. I had Rose young and raised her on my own."

Easy to read between the lines and that the biological father was long out of the picture.

"And now," eyes flickered to Cillians before going back to his mother. A shrug rolled over her shoulders. "I'm trying to get used to a life not steeped in war."
 
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Morgase's eyebrows almost disappeared into her greying hair.

"Dreadlords are still around?" she took a sip of her tea and the expression her face was that of bemusement. "I would 'ave thought them and teh elves would have killed each other by now," Cillian glanced at his mother in surprise.

"Ye knew one?"

"Aye, Dreadlords make wishes too. Don't they, Sierra?" her eyes twinkled with mischief as she took another sip of her tea.
 
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"Even taking elves out of the equation, I'm surprised dreadlords haven't killed their own off by now." She'd heard about the changes post-Revolution. No longer were the seniors paired up against one of their own to kill and graduate. But she'd also heard about what the last class had gone through.

Would things ever truly change?

Aye, Dreadlords make wishes too. Dont they, Sierra?

Her gaze locked back on Morgase. "Sure we do. But I doubt most ever imagine leprechauns to be real and show-up ready to grant them." She certainly hadn't. It had been a thought and words muttered out desperation and even when Cillian had shown up, she never would've tied it all together until he'd confessed it much later.

"Though if you knew another dreadlord, it makes me wonder what kind of wish they asked for." Most dreadlords probably wished their enemies dead.
 
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Cillian rubbed at the back of his neck with a nervous laugh as his mother glanced between them, reading between the lines about how the pair had met.

"Wishes are a sacred deal," Morgase said with a solemn nod but the smile still tugged at her lips and her eyes had the odd faded expression elders got when remembering something far into their past. Cillian was curious too but knew better than to push his mother when she used that voice. Instead he draped an arm over the back of Sierra's chair and casually played with a strand of her hair. Then he launched into a retelling of the last few months of his life and the adventures he'd taken Sierra on.

A short while later the sound of laughter floated through the open windows and a second later the kitchens back door burst open. Two young boys identical in every way from the curl of their brown hair to their golden eyes and mischievous grins. Both drew up short when they saw the kitchen crowded. A few seconds later a woman almost the spitting image of Cillian entered too, though she gave a start when she saw Cillian.

"Cilli?" she breathed and then barged past her boys to wrap Cillian in a hug as he stood to greet her.

"Aoife," he murmured and returned the hug before pulling back to look at the boys still hovering by the doorway, though their eyes had shifted to Rose with interest. "This is Sierra, my mate," he beamed with pride. "And Rose, our daughter."
 
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Sierra smiled and joined Cillian to stand. Though her smile was tinged with caution. Even for Cillian's sister. The dreadlord couldn't help it and the old ways that had been instilled in her.

Always be ready and asses any threats.

Rose had no such hesitations. She slipped free from her chair and ran up to the pair of boys. "Hi! Do you want to go outside and play faeries and brownies with me?" Her bright blue eyes shifted between each of their gold ones, then a whisper that Sierra could hear. "I also have two cookies in my pockets that I can share."

"Rose, they just got in," Sierra began as she turned back to Cilli's sister, an arm wrapping around Cillian's waste. "Nice to meet you. Do you all live around here as well?"
 
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Aoife took them all in with bewildered eyes but her eyes kept coming back to her brother. Hurt, grief, and shining love poured from her in an endless cycle.

"A pleasure," the fae smiled to Sierra and then at the arm around his waist. With a shake of her head she sat down hard on one of the wooden chairs whilst Morgase busied about for more tea. "I'm sorry, this is just... a lot." She laughed breathlessly. "I can't believe I'm saying that to a human; it's probably far worse for you!"

"Human?" the boys intoned at the same time and their curiosity sharpened as they regarded Rose. "We like cookies," and before any adults could open their both, the boys each had a hold of one of Rose's hands and they were out the door to play. Sounds of childish laughter soon floated through the open door.

"Aye," Cillian was the one who ended up answering Sierra, tugging her onto his lap as he sat down. "They all live here; the leprechauns don't leave the Isles. Or at least, most of 'em."

Aoife and Morgase nodded solemnly.
 
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I cant believe Im saying that to a human; its probably far worse for you!

Sierra offered a small smile. The humanized-weapon didn't smile much. Mostly for Cillian and Rose. Even those were rare moments. But there was a ghost of one here, to Cillian's sister at the remark.

She settled on Cillian's lap, fingers twitching to smooth out that smirk that seemed forever present on his face.

But she didn't.

"Entering this world that I didn't even know existed," her eyes flickered to Morgase. "Has had its challenging moments though Rose has taken to it far easier than I." Sierra still remember that morning she'd left the house, thinking she was about to do something nice for Cillian by making him breakfast or surprising him with a bakery treat. Even Rose had scolded her about the customs of the fae she should've known.

She looked back at Cillian, her brows furrowing. "They don't leave the Isles? But the wishes of others don't draw you out?"

Color her curious now.
 
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All three leprechauns exchanged a look.

"She's my mate," Cillian said out loud and the two women seemed to resign themselves, leaving him to explain the complexities of the leprechauns. "The further away teh wisher, teh easier it is to ignore lass. And teh Isles... Well... we're not exactly in Arethil anymore. Not like we were before," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Here tis more like an itch, and ye can ignore an itch. Sometimes the young can't and they go, a few prefer teh world to here, but most stay, most-"

"Most of us remember the Purge," Aofie said softly and Morgase continued sternly;

"And many believe humans don't deserve wishes anymore."
 
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Sierra instinctively reached for her magic with that shared look. Habits of fight or flight were hard to suppress. A peek into the emotions of those around her. There were deep shades of blues for loss. A simmering orangey-red for anger. And a sprinkle of black for bitterness.

Sierra leaned back against Cillian, feeling the rumble from the voice in his chest against her back and side.

Grey-eyes met Morgase's with a small wince and a deeper understanding. The Dreadlord did not contradict the older fae. If anything, Sierra agreed with her, though she would apply that sentiment to more races than just human.

Sounds of laughter and small voices from the children playing outside broke the growing silence that settled between them. Sierra cleared her throat. "You three haven't seen each other in far too long." Before Cilli could argue, she freed herself from his lap and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "Why don't you spend some time catching up? I'll go check on the children."
 
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Cillian went to protest but he could feel down the bond she was earnest in wanting him to spend some time with the family he had not seen for centuries. So he let her go with a thankful smile and a kiss to her hand before she left.

Outside Morgase's garden was a large sprawling maze of different plants, secluded spots to sit, and ornate fountains or statues. If Sierra followed the sounds of the children round the twists and bends she would come upon them playing beneath a large apple tree. Somebody had built the twins a swing seat at some point big enough for two, but the three children had managed to cram themselves onto it. The boys had wedged Rose securely between them and they both pushed the swing back and forth whenever their feet came close to the ground sending them higher and higher.
 
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