Before - Legends "Human heritage" (The ancient conflict between the dark side & the light side of the Force)

“Did he kill himself here? Or did you want him to get a burial sitewith a view?”

The first part of her question made me wince.


“Wax play?” I snort. “Because its colourful patterns can brighten up my life?”

Gah! That made me chuckle!
I don’t like her suggestion though. It’s like ‘oh, you are sad, so go have sex with an experienced woman.’ Lucien needs so much more than that to fix this guy. His LIFE is in ruins, not just his love life.

I do like though, how there’s a widow support group.


Instead of my desert outfit I put on a midnight-blue over tunic that is tight fitting across the chest.

From your drawings, he looks good in blue.


Coire MacGhillie seems like a lovely woman, despite her interest in Lucien.


“Aska, the Ankou is far worse than death. On his home planet, he used to be the greatest contract killer and witch hunter that there ever was.”

“Perhaps he retired when he came to Draconis?”

“A hog in satin is still a hog.

oh that is SO VERY TRUE!! Hahahahahahaha especially with Lucien.


“And you are not afraid of your reputation, milady?”

“Kol Blåbär and his wife Aska have served me since their teens. My reputation is safe with them. No one would need to know.”

*rolls eyes* So she DOES care if people know. That says something about Lucien’s reputation.


*sighs*


I feel like it hasn't been all that long since I beta'd this section/chapter. I'm afraid that I'm falling behind and that I won't be able to keep up after a certain point! :/

 

@earlybird-obi-wan: He tries to have a good time once in a while and be a good person.

@Lady_Misty: I wonder which series you are talking about. My inspiration comes from the family of my ex-boy-friend. Well from that part of his family that I never met. To have to deal with his lordish father for 5 years time was punishment enough. I believe an Irish-Norman family to be a pit of snakes. This is why all my noble families are dysfunctional for one or the other reason.

@Nyota's Heart: He still tries to find himself... and to quote freely from the song "Cell Block Tango" (taken from the musical "Chicago") ... he found Néné, Sionnach, Irmgard, Temperance and Coire.

@SWpants: You are the best! Your editing, your comments & your worries!



Here, my dears, my update:


Chapter 21: All is fair in love and war

Elfin courtship advances by gradations, with couples first speaking, then walking out together, and finally keeping company after mutual attraction has been confirmed.

Luckily, I learned Floriography, the language of flowers, from Néné. It is a means of cryptological communication through the use or arrangement of flowers. I show up with Hollyhock - ambition - for my first tea time invitation.

Coire seems pleased, so for my next visit I bring along light pink roses – desire, passion, joy of life, youth, energy.

Regular invitations for tea soon end up in long walks over the heath.

I find Coire a pleasing and obliging companion – docile, good tempered, and well-principled. Never do I weary of quoting poems to her or reading her favourite novels. There is a pleasure in my services. I can clearly see that she grows fonder of me with each visit paid. But it is no true love which relieves me. Love destroys.

During one walk on a hot summer day, Coire is extremely quiet.

“What is the matter, my dear?” I ask after I cannot stand her atypical silence any longer.

She licks her lips, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. “We have known each other for seven weeks now, but... would you consider saying for dinner tonight?”

I breathe out, my shoulders sagging in relief. “I can stay the whole night, if you want me to.”

Coire reaches out to touch my cheek, her elegant fingers just grazing my jaw. “I want it all tonight. With every gaze in my direction, you seduce me.”

My eyes widen at her passionate speech. “Are you sure about that? So soon?”

“All those conventions of courtship make me sick. The moral code that Her Holiness, Mórag MagUdhir, pushes down on all of us is inexcusable. An Elfin heart should beat fierce and free!”

With that she grips her bodice and tears it open. I stare at the wonderful result with a sly smile. “Perhaps we should have dinner right here and right now,” I suggest and struggle out of my coat to make us a bed between the ferns.

“Am I dinner?” she asks sneakily.

“You are dessert,” I grin as I sweep her into my arms.

It startles me slightly, that Coire took the imitative, but on the other hand she knows all about good timing.

********************************************************************

Later on, as I cradle Coire against my chest and idly play with her locks, she mumbles, “What are you so afraid of?”

“Pillow talk,” I rumble ruefully. “Because I am too honest to the women that I make love to.”

She sits up and gazes at me. “Are you afraid of us?”

My lips curve to a half-smile. “I actually love women a lot. The universe is a much better place with them.”

“But you never give all your heart,” Coire states matter-of-factly. “I wonder who hurt you in such unspeakable ways.”

I close my eyes, but she keeps looking at me. I owe her an answer. “Growing up in a pride of lionesses hardens. It is a world of mirrors, make-up and murder.”

She kisses my closed lids. “The Elfin Court is pretty much the same. Yet, my arranged marriage led to a love match. One day you will find your true love and it will be pure magic, I promise.”

Magic.

I think of Châtiment, my grandfather who turned me into a witch hunter par excellance. Who taught me that I shall not know true safety, trust or love ever.

I think of Grianán and her binding spell. Of all the power she possesses as a member of the ancient Serpent Family.

“I rather do without magic,” I proclaim. “It leads to eternal damnation.”

“Now I understand what you are really afraid of,” Coire muses. “Opening your soul to a force that you do not understand. Being vulnerable to somebody else. You hate to be at a woman's mercy.”

My eyes snap open and I kiss her long and hard.

********************************************************************

During the next three years, Coire and I are involved in a very passionate love affair. We also engage ourselves in card games and chess, have poetry sessions, and ignore the lack of a love that will never be.

Our affair comes to an end when she dances with a Sleah Maith during a party at Midwinter Eve. It is love at first sight. He is a horse merchant and able to bring the long-dead butterflies back into her stomach. They marry shortly after the spring equinox dance and I am their guest of honour.

Draíocht gives me one of her critical glances when she spots me at her arrival at the wedding party. When no one is watching, she drags me into a relatively quiet corner of the barn.

“Why are you invited, Luçien?”

“Support groups are nice. We should found one, you and I. People who face the dark side of the Force on a daily basis.” I smile broadly, not willing to let her ruin the night.

“So you were the reason why Coire changed so dramatically during the past years.”

“Is that a reproach?” I ask, keeping my manners polite and flawless.

Draíocht's face clouds, but not for long. “Why can't you be like this with Sionnach? Why did you not support her the way you supported Coire?”

I shrug. “The little fox and I already have too much history. And there are things that I cannot tell her. About me.”

Coire and Rory wave at me. Not waiting for Draíocht's permission I rush over to them. It was a boring conversation anyway.

********************************************************************

After Coire’s marriage, I look after my own property again. When I am not in the royal library, I am building items for the home or working on my garden. As the days grow short and cold, I do much in the lodge itself like constructing two chandeliers made of gigantic antlers. Or hanging up some of the stuffed animals that Taran and I hunted together. I also bake often and start practising the violin again. I do some wooden figurines, including a unicorn.

Agathos wants me to stay for the Midwinter holidays.

“I do not want to spoil it for your children,” I say with a sour smile. “This should be a jolly season and not one of blood and claw. Isabeau and I have our issues. Besides, the boys might walk over and Taran is long overdue.”

Hesitantly, Agathos releases me into my holidays.

Instead of teleporting, I walk all the way back to the lodge. The snow blanket is nothing but a dusting thus far, but it is bound to become worse. My boots have a good tread and my Udaler coat keeps me warm enough.

Above me a star cruiser flies towards the castle. The royal princesses and princes with their ever anxious nanny. Among them, I feel the eight-year-old Grianán and quickly move out of sight, becoming one with the wintry, barren landscape among me.

It is better that we do not continue our acquaintance. There are vaults in my heart that contain more pain than another being can take. Besides, I should have never entered the crypts of Cunabula and seek the advice of the Undead. Now and then I still wake up, feeling the pressure of rotting fingers on my chest. The words that could lead to Grianán's condemnation echo through my head.

About three miles away from the place that I learned to call sanctuary, a rider with two horses passes me by. Dead game hangs from the saddle of the second animal. The stranger greets me friendly.

I return his wave and state, “A successful hunt, I see.”

Soon we are into deep conversation about rabbits, deer and other game of interest in this region. Because I enjoy myself too much, I invite the young man in. He is happy to oblige.

********************************************************************

(To be continued!)

 

Hey there! I'm actually first. I like Coire - she is insightful and forthright in drawing Lucien out about his true fears and longings. I like the actual steps of Elfin courtship with the flowers and teas, and walks. They seem to share other interests, like poetry and chess, what I call intellectual and mind-stretching besides the more passionate side of things.

Touched me and made me go awwwwww! the line about "the love that will never be." I think he was able to take something positive from this relationship and move on without damaging the respect and liking, which is a definite step forward.

 

The series is 'Green Rider' by Kristen Britain. Some research on Ireland I did revealed the possibility that the author based her world on history and legends from Ireland.

At least Lucien is showing his heart right now.

 

Glad to see Lucien happy with an understanding woman like Coire.
He should have more of these moments and learn

 

Elfin courtship advances by gradations, with couples first speaking, then walking out together, and finally keeping company after mutual attraction has been confirmed.

Hey whatever works. Also, it’s a great way to know each other.


Coire reaches out to touch my cheek, her elegant fingers just grazing my jaw. “I want it all tonight. With every gaze in my direction, you seduce me.”

Blech kasjdflkasd *willies*


My lips curve to a half-smile. “I actually love women a lot. The universe is a much better place with them.”

*sigh* I can concede to that. But he is too hateful of too many.


“Now I understand what you are really afraid of,” Coire muses. “Opening your soul to a force that you do not understand. Being vulnerable to somebody else. You hate to be at a woman's mercy.”

Oh she knows him well!! TAKE THAT LUCIEN


Our affair comes to an end when she dances with a Sleah Maith during a party at Midwinter Eve. It is love at first sight. He is a horse merchant and able to bring the long-dead butterflies back into her stomach. They marry shortly after the spring equinox dance and I am their guest of honour.

It seems like an abrupt end, but ya gotta move the story somehow.


After Coire’s marriage, I look after my own property again. When I am not in the royal library, I am building items for the home or working on my garden. As the days grow short and cold, I do much in the lodge itself like constructing two chandeliers made of gigantic antlers. Or hanging up some of the stuffed animals that Taran and I hunted together. I also bake often and start practising the violin again. I do some wooden figurines, including a unicorn.

With the last bit, it sounds like he needed that time to himself.


It is better that we do not continue our acquaintance. There are vaults in my heart that contain more pain than another being can take


Also, it’s bloody creepy as all hell

 

Ah!... Lucien has found a happy place.

 

@Nyota's Heart: The heart of a darksider is difficult to judge. And in the end everybody writes his or her own destiny.

@Lady_Misty: If you look around carefully, he always does to a certain extend and with certain folk.

@earlybird-obi-wan: IF he really learns I cannot determine. That is always difficult.

@SWpants: Then prepare yourself for another creepy update of mine!

@Hazel: For now, he has.



Okay, I just hop in with my update, my dearies. Then I am off-line again.




Draň Syn od Kerb is the son of a warlord from the Eastern Prairies. He was seeing the Holy Consort – my step-sister Isabeau – for an audience, but he arrived one day too early. So he decided to go hunting.

We are pleased with each other’s company, and he stays on for another four days. His urge to speak with Isabeau has been forgotten altogether. But then it is time to say good-bye. He cannot stretch his schedule for me any longer.

Once my new acquaintance is gone, the house is dressed in silence again. It smothers me.

But instead of praying with the flagellum,I free my violin of its black case. My fingers wander over its shiny surface, play with the body, rest at its neck. It is not the violin that Enderv once gave to me in my youth, nor is it the instrument that I had in my possession back on Amnion. This one is an instrument that Taran gave to me after our first winter spent together.

I summon the bow, an inwardly curved wooden rod with white horsehair, into my right hand. Then I nest my head at the chin-rest. I wince when I attempt to play. My violin, last used during the night of Beltane three years ago, needs urgent tuning.

While I listen carefully to each string as it tightens towards the desired pitch, I play each of the required notes continuously. In no time, I achieve the resonance of a perfect fifth, grinning wide. I should have sought the comfort of music more often.

I breathe in and out reverently. Then I close my eyes and start to play one my favourite tunes.

Getting lost in music is one of the greatest pleasures of my life. The physical world around me disappears. I let the melodies surround me, swallow me whole. The bow, the violin and I became one unit.

Suddenly, something else sets my spirit soaring. I am half in agony, half in hope.

With the violin pressed to my chest I race towards the tool shed, which I had turned into a stable for Czarny, a gigantic kallblod horse. The animal gives me an astonished look. His tail is indicates a hyper-alert state.

“We are going out. I hope you don't mind,” I explain cheerfully. “It looks like I have a visitor today. Let us hunt some rabbits.”

********************************************************************

I feel the witchling's heartbeat synchronising with mine the closer I get to her. This is not only the katadesmos, her binding spell, doing that to me. It is true happiness, reflected in her grey eyes.

“Where have you been, Grianán?”

“I never really recovered from Polysýndeton,” she answers, her words muffled by the thick hood of a winter cloak. “Isa thought it better to keep me in a warm climate.”

“So I heard. But I find it hard to believe. I know you. You would survive even the hostile climate of Polaris.” I am desperate to gaze at her face. “Let me have a look! May I?”

She nods.

I take my gloves off before I remove her hood. “There you are, Grianán.” She is grinning so wide, that I cannot suppress the urge to tick her nose in a playful manner. “Could you even see where you were walking with that thing on?”

She smiles on.

“How old are you now?” I ask her despite knowing it all too well. “Eight?”

“I will turn nine in spring.”

“How time flies.” It feels not right towering above the girl so I kneel down in the snow to be face-to-face with her. “You have quite a suntan here. Something tells me that you live in a place where it is much warmer than here. And it is not the Holy Isle.”

“Perhaps.”

“I must say you look healthier than everybody wants to me to believe. You are definitely not at the brink of death, 'ma petite marchande d'illusion'.”

A cloud darkens her face. “Not yet.”

“I like you best alive! And fearless.” I feel obliged ticking her nose again. “Perhaps I was not clear enough about that the last time that we met each other.”

“No, you were not,” Grianán sighs. “You are good with mixed messages.”

I decide to prove her wrong. “When I ordered you to seek shelter, I wanted you to be safe from me. In case you haven't noticed, we bonded.”

“We did?”

Before I can stop myself, I speak out my thoughts aloud. “I had lost two of my children and you were a very scared girl far away from home. How could I resist? How could anybody resist the innocence shining in your eyes? I am not heartless, Grianán.”

Abruptly, she breaks her eye contact. “Is that for Sionnach's household?” she inquires.

I follow her gaze. “No, actually those rabbits are for my own dinner.” I am glad she noticed my prey. My plan is progressing. “I have a hunting lodge nearby that I built myself.”

“You know how to build a house?” Grianán wonders, astonishment making her face even prettier.

I laugh, happy that I can finally speak out my invitation. “What about a cup of tea and some cookies at my place?” I wink at her. “Then you can judge my carpeting skills for yourself.”

*******************************************************************




A wonderful day passes between Grianán and me. I show her my home and the hobbies that I turned my head to since Doom's Day. It feels good being with her. Fearlessly, the girl strolls around, touches everything that catches her interest. With great enthusiasm, she munches on my cookies, has many questions for me.

I want her to stay forever, but I at a point I have to escort her back to the castle. It would be inappropriate to ask for her permission to stay the night with me. Isabeau would not trust that I truly feel happier in Grianán’s presence. I cannot even explain the power of the katadesmos, the binding spell, to my overcritical step-sister.

When we come closer to the draw bridge, I start praying that nobody recognizes me, more for Grianán's sake. I am a monster for many. A heartless killer.

“Thank you for the nice afternoon!” she beams, while sliding out of the saddle.

“I owed you as much after our last unfortunate meeting in the Embassy.” It costs me a lot of strength I struggle to keep my feelings in check. There are so many other things that I would like to say. “I suppose we will not see each other for a while now. You will go hiding again from me.”

With a careful nod she agrees, “It's a trait I share with my mother.”

A nameless fear claws into my heart. “Does that have to do with witchcraft, Grianán? Because if it does, you are in great trouble.”

“With you?” she prompts.

I cannot bear to answer her question and ride off without even saying good-bye. Not after what happened to me in the crypt of her ancestors. Dark magic is dangerous.

The chilly temperatures turn my silent tears into ice.

“Force, have mercy on her. Sodalith, have mercy on her.
Calme, have mercy on her.
Force, hear me. Moon goddesses graciously hear me. Maiden huntress also listen to me. Have mercy on her.”

Czarny, his ears turned towards me, makes a concerned sound.

“You like her, too, don't you?” I pat his broad flank. “She bewitches everybody that crosses her way. It is like a curse, but one I have learned to live with.”

Czarny does not like getting teleported, but I give him an extra big carrot for his displeasure. Then I leave him in his stable and jog back into the lodge. There, I start writing the longest letter of my life. It is addressed to Agathos.

*******************************************************************

(To be continued!)

 

Aw, how cute!

 

Glad that music is therapeutic for Lucien. And Grianan always shall be, despite anything and everything. She is the one of a few who can get beneath his thorny barricades.

 

. I wince when I attempt to play. My violin, last used during the night of Beltane three years ago, needs urgent tuning.

But he’s playing, which is important.


“I never really recovered from Polysýndeton,” she answers, her words muffled by the thick hood of a winter cloak. “Isa thought it better to keep me in a warm climate.”

Isa had a good idea. I hate that Lucien thinks that he’s better than everyone and knows what’s best for Gri. He doesn’t.


I am not heartless, Grianán.”

But you seem it.


When we come closer to the draw bridge, I start praying that nobody recognizes me, more for Grianán's sake.


Don’t blame him!!

 

Music always helps
Great chapter Azure!

 

@Lady_Misty: I hope it stays cute for a while. You never know with the dark side...

@Nyota's Heart: Yes, music is a wonder. And indeed, Gri is a barricade breaker.

@SWpants: With Christmas in the air, may I presume that you get soft around the edges? Concerning HIM?

@Hazel: Not there yet! This chapter is not over yet!



*******************************************************************

Narthex wears his smug master valet expression when I hand my envelope over to him in front of his master's bedchamber. “You want Agathos to read this before the breakfast?” He raises an eyebrow. “I am not sure he is even up yet.”

“Please,” I get out, my voice heavy with emotion.

“I see what I can do.”

I do not stay to wait for Agathos’ reaction. What I want is unheard of, could even be misunderstood to my disadvantage.

I teleport back to the tool shed. Czarny looks amused when I fall through the door, but gives me no trouble when I lead him outside again.

It is about three hours on horseback to the castle. Enough time for Agathos to consider my suggestion and react on it.

“You know,” I say confidently to Czarny, “I really would like to spend some more quality time with Grianán. I can keep my temper. I can keep her safe. I can give her a merry time. I can show her the light. I only need the chance to prove it.”

The horse remains silent, but his ears are pricked and turned towards me.

“Thanks for listening,” I smile and pat his massive neck.

At that Czarny snickers softly, as if agreeing with me.

“The black arts are more than communication with the deceased. An agency of evil is forged between a witch and a multitude of demons. Arcane powers can be learned, such as the terrible ability to awaken the dead with false life.”

Czarny groans, as if the girth is too tight. But I know that is not the case.

“Hush,” I beg him. “We will make Grianán strong from the inside. She will win the contest of wills against Mórag. She will not end up like her mother, a broken toy.”

********************************************************************

I almost faint with relief when I see my special midwinter guest standing on the massive draw bridge around noon. Grianán looks like a brave little soldier, ready to march into battle.

While I lift her into the saddle to join me, she has the gut to immediately entangles me in a tricky conversation.

“Mórag is your half-sister?”

I roll my eyes and cringe. “Do not act as if you didn't know. That little, blond head of hides a lot of sharp intelligence, Grianán. I can see right through you.”

“Always?” she grins.

“Mostly.”

Her grin widens. “Because I am a demon from another dimension?”

“I found out that the truth is much more complicated. Things around you are usually complicated.”

She is silent for a moment as I turn Czarny in the right direction. “And you happen to like to solve such complicated puzzles?”

“I like you, insolent child. At times you remind me of Isabeau when she was younger.” I leave it at that. Speaking of my step-sister still hurts a big deal. “And at other times you remind me of...”

She gently rubs my shoulder. “It is okay to remember the dead, Luçien. There is no need to feel guilty. Tāchys likes to be remembered. If you could feel less guilty about things, then your judgement would not be so clouded all the time.”

“Pray, how old are you again?” I glower at Grianán darkly now that she mentioned my deceased daughter. With her I am never sure what to expect next. She is refreshing and deeply disturbing alike.

She laughs that carefree laugh of hers, which runs through me in shudders. “I will be nine by the next spring equinox.”

“Then don't act as if you're older than me.” I try not to sound too reproachful. “I know more of the universe than you do.”

When we return to the lodge, I spoil the girl with raclette and marshmallows.

Despite of the danger that somebody from the langhús can show up any given time, I go ice skating with her the next day.

Throughout the week we built snowmen and have snowball fights in empty fields. I even attempt to go hunting with Grianán, for which she teases me mercilessly. That girl triggers laughter and smiles out of me more than anybody ever has. Even an unscheduled visit by Sionnach weighs less heavy on me then it usually does.

Then there is a real obstacle.

Taran arrives by far too early for the midwinter celebrations. Luckily, Grianán quickly is at ease around him and more laughter fills the lodge, accompanied by music.

Taran and I try to get Grianán to dance with us, but she refuses. After a few nights of cajoling and Taran’s enchanting charm, she agrees to appease us in a surprising manner. Her fluid, graceful movements betray Isabeau's teachings: Capoeira, better known as the Dance of War. This old martial art technique combines elements of dance, acrobatics and music. In the old days female Lidérc slaves, referred as capoeiristas, learned it in the Mother Jungle of Cunabula.

I stroke my goatee absent-mindedly.

Through the determination of my step-sister the heritage of the Riwalan clan has survived after all. It will unsettle Alezan if I ever chose to tell him, but it pleases me.

What I do not like is that I am somehow dependent on Grianán for my peace of mind. It makes me feel like a needy fool. With my age and experience I should not be responding like this.

 

I am exceedingly glad he is. Grianan is who she is, a bright influence. I do not think Lucien could resist her effect if he tried.

 

The dark side is a bit like the mirror that the snow queen possesses in the original Danish fairy tale. It blurs the view on a person, on life itself. Ups, I hope I do not say to much now...

 

Can't read but no it's not the holidays. I always soften when it comes towards the end with his part of the story

 

The version I read the mirror didn't belong to the Snow Queen but a devil or troll. Hmm.

For some reason the laughter of children is cleansing.

 

To me, a new post is a new chapter. Very nice!

 

Czarny is adorable I like the idea of near-Force sensitive animals

Her grin widens. “Because I am a demon from another dimension?”

She sounds just like an 8-year-old. It makes her/Lucien even more bloody creepy.
(And, to be honest, I forgot she WAS 8 at this time. Holy cow, this is the problem with beta-ing, and also with having read the other stories)


“I know more of the universe than you do.”

You also know how to be more stupid than her


What I do not like is that I am somehow dependent on Grianán for my peace of mind. It makes me feel like a needy fool. With my age and experience I should not be responding like this.


*laughs* agreed!

 

@Nyota's Heart, Hazel, Lady_Misty, earlybird-obi-wan and SWpants

I enjoyed all of your comments so much that I want to give you a belated Saint Nikolaus/ Sinterklaas update. Now that Christmas is coming closer, I fear that I just will have time to update on Sunday evenings until New Year springs up.

On Thursday evening I was able to go to the monthly "Women Sauna Night" of my Fitness centre. On Friday I had the Dutch Saint Nikolaus celebration with my husband, called "Pakjes avond" (= parcel evening). Yesterday we hung up some curtains & one of two lamps, finding out that most of the wires of our flat are older than from 1920. Today I was late for "Spine Gymnastics" & "Yoga", but later on when DarthUncle is finished in the kitchen with his soup preparation & I stopped watching German fairy tales on TV we go for our regular fitness programme. Our neighbours invited us over for this evening. They already brought us some German Christmas cookies.



Chapter 22: Giving in

On our last official afternoon I bake cookies with Grianán and then reveals to me by sheer accident, that she is still a medium.The Dead never stopped talking to her. I cannot tolerate such acts of necromancy under my own roof.

With steely resolve I drag the girl upstairs, trying not to alert the snoring Taran. I lock us into my room, even though the oak door will not keep a furious werewolf out for long.

In my troubled mind I pray hard that Grianán will not force my hand to torture her. There are an infinite number ways to make her speak, some more harsh and radical than others. But I trust her honesty.

Once we sit in chairs opposite to one another she speaks freely. “I do not like talking to ghosts, Luçien. They make me cold and uneasy.”

“Another reason to stay away from temptation.”

“I am not doing that on purpose.” She looks heartbroken. “They have appeared to me uninvited since my birth.”

“Do you ever see anything else apart from ghosts?” I inquire, keeping my voice low, yet friendly. “The future perhaps?”

“No, I am not a clairvoyant, just a medium.”

“Let us hope that doesn’t change.” I cannot help to smile at her confession. “What about Force lightning then? You are a daughter of the Holy Isle. A member of the ancient Serpent family.”

Her eye lashes flutter nervously. “Occasionally, when nobody else is looking, I shock things, but only for fun. I fire on water melons or jugs. Not on living beings.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” I feel much lighter now, almost relieved. Almost.

“Luçien, you can also do Force lightning,” Grianán argues with heated cheeks. “You do not only use it to light the chimney fire. I saw in Isa’s memories how you killed Solitaire.”

“Why were you in my step-sister’s head?”

“When I had to leave Amnion I became very ill. I had no control over my telepathic powers. Her memories of you, the good ones and the bad ones, flooded into my head. I could not hold them back.”

I believe her and let her lean against me. Unpleasant memories claw at me. I think about my grandfather and his special office hours with me.

“Are we done now?” Grianán hiccups.

“Just one more thing.”

“Yes?” Her murmur is a hot breath against my skin.

“Why is Mórag so keen on getting her corpse hands on you?”

“I am my mother’s daughter. That is enough reason.”

At precisely this moment Taran is at the door, making a dreadful scene. I have to stop the interview immediately.

********************************************************************

Without Grianán by my side, the house suddenly seems too big, too empty, too full of shadows. The silence that surrounds me is excruciating. Taran is has been gone since the day Grianán left. We parted in anger.

The following days fly by in a daze. Each night I fail to keep sleep at bay and I am right back in my grandfather’s office, naked and helpless. Nightmares that I had fended off the past years keep are rushing back in my life.

One morning, I am hopelessly entangled in my bed linen. My own hands are clawed clasped around my throat, almost crushing my windpipe. The mattress under me is damp from my cold sweat and urine.

Cursing, I get up on trembling legs and try to clean the mess that I made. I stop and quickly rise when I hear noises in the kitchen.

“Éibhear!” I sigh, wishing that none of my sons would care much for me. It is a love that I do not deserve. Draíocht is right; I am such a lousy father to them.

Wearily, I leave my bedroom, leaving the door wide open.

I see my son’s pointed Elfin ears tremble for a brief moment, but he does not stop his breakfast preparations for me. “You have no fresh bread in the house,” he comments while forming another croissant. “Why are there just dusty shelves in the pantry?”

I walk down to him with heavy steps.

“I should have come earlier, but I know that you hate being taken care of.” Without looking at me, Éibhear continues to shape the dough. “Minou and I spoke about that once.”

“You should not have,” I say, barely above a whisper.

“Sacre bleu!” he curses and swirls around. His eyes are puffed and there are traces of fresh tears in his long eyelashes. “You need somebody to love around here. If you won’t let the little one or me do the job, then find a woman again.”

I take him in speechless.

“You can be such an ass,” Èibhear sniffs and smears dough all over his face when he tries to wipe away his tears. “Garou and I do not want you to be alone, no matter how much you believe to want it.”

I take five shaky steps and then I sweep him into my embrace. He tries to be brave, but our physical contact makes his composure crack completely.

I do not know how long we hug one another, but our reunion is interrupted by the front door banging open.

“What is going on here?” Draíocht shouts, accompanied by a vexed Ciall.

“Breakfast, tante!” Éibhear answers dutifully and with an undeniable pang of regret he pushes out of my embrace. “I am making a bloody breakfast for my bloody stupid father.”

Draíocht wants to say something, but Ciall intervenes. “I told you before,” he says in his accented Basic. “The boys want more time with him. Sionnach and you should not worry so much.”

“What is wrong with you people?” snorts Éibhear. “Stop freaking out each time I leave the langhús on my own. I am not a toddler any more.”

Guilt and shame stand written in Draíocht’s features now, taking away their usual sharpness. “I...”

“I know you could not care less what happens to my father, but I do.” My heart races at Éibhear’s heated words. “He lives like an animal in this lodge. Living from moment to moment, day to day. The bad things of his past stay with him. He cannot escape them, as much as he wants to. And now you embarrass him by coming here uninvited and disturbing my breakfast preparations for him.”

A tremor goes through my body and I need to sit down. I hardly notice the shuffle of feet, the murmured excuses and the closing of the front door. Éibhear places a mug with steaming coffee into my hands.

“Okay, they are gone and now we will talk.”

My stomach clenches in nausea, but I nod.

“You know sometimes I wish you would be just an alcoholic like Dian.”

I do not know what shocks me more – the revelation or the name of the man that I killed in the most painful, madding way possible.

“Do you believe Garou and I are stupid? You can fool mama and a lot of other grown-ups, but not us.”

I close my eyes, but that does not shut out his persisting, calm voice.

“Trust me, I will not make you talk, but I insist that you have breakfast with me now.” Quickly, he adds. “And that you feed yourself decently from now on. I hate crying in front of you. But if this is the only way to force promises from you, to make you act normal again, I am prepared to do much worse.”

********************************************************************

(To be continued!)

 

Wow!! Somebody is not having his beauty sleep

 

Yeek! Those blasted nightmares! His sons do care and so does Grianan. Yum, croissants.

Azure Do you know how chuffed I am to read your AN? Things seem to be calm and rather warm-comfy on the home front.

 

The Dead never stopped talking to her. I cannot tolerate such acts of necromancy under my own roof.

Well I can't stand you, so....
Also, it's not like she can control that.


“Occasionally, when nobody else is looking, I shock things, but only for fun. I fire on water melons or jugs. Not on living beings.”


While I don't fear for Gri, if it was someone who I didn't know their future *anyone else), I'd be worried. Almost all crimes start out as something "innocent"


“Éibhear!” I sigh, wishing that none of my sons would care much for me. It is a love that I do not deserve. Draíocht is right; I am such a lousy father to them.

While I don't wish they would stop loving him, I agree - he doesn't deserve it.


“You need somebody to love around here. If you won’t let the little one or me do the job, then find a woman again.”

HE HAS A VERY VALID POINT!



The kids are great

 

At least someone is standing up for him.

 

@Hazel: Well, the abuse he had to undergo as a child, left clearly marks on his sleeping patterns.

Nyota's Heart: And you know what? The German voice actor of Luke Skywalker visited me at work. Together with his gorgeous wife! To say "Thank you!" for my Wampa.

@SWpants: Well, Eibhéar and his little half-brother Garou are based on my positive experiences with the all kiddos I work with since 1996. A potpourri really.

@Lady_Misty: The dark side blends out the good things and kind persons in people´s life.

Okay, girls, I am still humming from my Christmas surprise visitors and the kind gifts they gave to me. A lot of the Kindergarten parents, also SW fans, are also happy for me. Most of my friends are not really astonished that kind things happen to kind people once in a while.

@DarthUncle cares sweetly about me since my skin surgery on late Thursday afternoon (actually the same day that Hans-Georg Panczak and his wife dropped by). I am still so happy that my endorphins make me feel less of the pain of the surgical wound and my worries about the results. Of course samples of that huge and darkened birth mark have been send in. But due to my current happiness I also worry less about the outcome.

Of course I was at work, even though it is a delicate spot were the operation took place. Colleagues changed the nappies of my kiddos for me and I was not to carry any heavy items during yesterday´s Christmas party. (But yes, I sorted out the buffet and sat at the craft table more than an hour, helping children to make little lamps.)

Because I will meet with a child hood friend tomorrow, roaming one of Berlin´s 1.001 Christmas markets, I give you more Lucien today:


********************************************************************

Éibhear’s visit makes clear to me that I need a new purpose in life. Instead of drowning in self-pity, I better can be a teacher mentor to a young soul in perish. Actually the danger of perishing in the hands of my vile half-sister.

I have to wait five entire days before I am summoned to the castle. Agathos and Narthex are both in the royal library, drinking tea. When I step towards them, they do not get up, but gesture me to sit down among them. The long hunting knife on the coffee table increases the discomfort I already feel from my wound nerves.

“A blood oath, seriously? Again? With both of you?”

Agathos and Narthex stare me down with burning eyes.

I sigh and roll up my sleeve until my left arm is completely exposed.

“It is not about you, nor about us.” Narthex growls with a fierceness that startles me. “And certainly not about the shield of lies we will erect to make your request work.”

Suddenly I realise what they risk for me. Isabeau can be a dangerous foe when enraged. The safety and well-being of her royal protégées comes first. For them, she would even sacrifice bonds of friendship and murder in cold blood.

After a long discussion we all agree that it is essential to keep our pact secret to even Grianán until the right time has come. The stakes are awfully high, even for her. It is very likely that her brothers and sisters would feel utterly betrayed.

Caelestris is the only child among the Tjiehenet serpent-spawn that really likes me. Her twin Èleos tries to act polite at least. His heart is no murderous pitch, but he does not trust me at all. Perhaps he is right, I am not a very trustworthy person most of the time. But my service to the Holy Scriptures demands a lot from me. Being fair and upright is not always possible in the life that I lead.

I spent the entire winter preparing the arrival of my resident student. A curriculum needs to be made for Grianán, approved by both her father and her grandfather. Despite her the occasional silliness and immaturity that reflect her age, she has a bright, sharp mind and can take in retain a lot of information. I also would like her to work on her development as an artist. She can create breathtaking art pieces. And I certainly want to train that sweet voice of hers. It is too precious to waste it on witch chants. Her slender fingers are also perfect for harping.

I promise myself that we will have a good time together, and create memories worth remembering.

Armed with paint tins, several brushes and other carpenter tools I start renovating the room next to mine. It used to be Irmgard’s. I would like it to be Grianán’s. I hope she considers it her safe haven. A place where she can be at ease even from me.

Narthex has promised to make discreet arrangements with Norn, the chéf of Dún Barr. I can order groceries, meat and drinks via the royal kitchen. I want hope to avoid those awkward meals with the Tjiehenet off-spring and their fierce guardian. Isabeau’s glares make my stomach churn. I cannot remember the last time I really enjoyed the taste of my food.

I want everything to be perfect and fear I will not be able to appeal to all of Grianán’s desires. As a princess du sang, she is used to have a lot of having many people around her. I am afraid that the lodge will be more serene and lonely, unless Taran is willing to pop by for occasional visits.

********************************************************************

When Sionnach appears at Dún Barr, I am made to share a bedchamber with her again. An arrangement that makes me tense for many reasons. Agathos and Narthex have weird methods to test out my equilibrium, despite how the young woman and I feel about the situation. Sometimes the huge canopy bed does not seem large enough.

I attach a chalice to my left thigh, hoping that the constant pain makes my nightmares stay at bay. As a result of my lack of sleep, I am groggy and tetchy non-stop irritable.

Sionnach brings me over the edge has questions that frustrate me even further. “What would you do with a family member that could see the future?”

“It is forbidden and an act of witchcraft,” I answer in a voice that is menacing. My heart sinks at the possible though that Sionnach is involved with necromancy in any form. To be a healer is one thing, but a spiritual healer a totally different matter.

“Witchcraft?” There is panic in her voice. “It is a gift of the Force, Luçien. Why condemn it?”

“It is useless to argue any result of witchcraft with me.” My words sound harsher than I wanted them to be, but I don’t regret it.

She stares at me for a moment and then says in a low tone, “You can produce energy shields and heal persons by touching them. You can throw lightning bolts and kill from a safe distance. You have strong reflexes and read minds.”

“So?” My lips are stiff and I can feel that I am slightly shaking. I hope that Sionnach does not see my fear. Or that she will misinterpret it as arrogance. “The future is forbidden terrain for a Force user.”

“Says who, Luçien?” She has eyes of steel suddenly and her mouth is set hard.

“The holy laws of my people,” I answer and for some reason the same fear that turns my stomach into liquid, sends a strange burning sensation throughout my body. I know there is near-physical fire in my gaze.

She turns away from me, like most of the women that I questioned in the past. “What else do those laws say?” she mumbles.

Soon we are in a wild discussion that gets totally out of hand. It becomes an argument with neither of us listening to the other. But the one positive is that Sionnach believes me to be Grianán’s nemesis. I do not want the girl to get into trouble being associated with me.

********************************************************************

When the big day finally arrives, I am as jittery as an eopie stitched by a desert scorpion. Czarny and Heathcliff stand on my meadow, having with ribbons in their manes. I have scrubbed the entire house, did all the windows and surfaces clean. There is a vase with white asters in Grianán’s room. Her bed is freshened up and lavender bags hang in her closet. I also cooked for her and her expected travel company: eggplant turnovers, tomato rice, lentils and saffron rice.

My future resident pupil brightens up the very moment she sets eyes on me. And then, there it is, that sweet, quirky smile that I love so much. My chest expands in a deep breath. It is good having Grianán around again. The compliments of Agathos and Narthex on my cooking skills add to the warm feeling that spreads inside me.

After dinner, I choose to share the secret about my most delicate Force gift with Grianán. The one that the belated Solitaire taught me from beyond the grave. Teleportation has enabled me to travel save and soundless ever since. Not only to fulfil my missions, but also to make my private life more joyful. Without it I would be stuck in the circle of Isabeau’s hatred every single day.

I transport straight to the royal nursery with Grianán. There she races towards a shabby looking mass of brown hair. As she returns into my embrace I can tell that she is holding a toy bantha. Her joy is priceless. I feel the quickening beat of her heart. It passes from her to me, becoming mine.

In the many months to follow I take care that there is a healthy balance between learning and play. Even though I am forced to spend many hours in Agathos’ office or the royal library, my days are mostly focused on Grianán. I like eating with her, laughing with her, cooking with her, and even doing housework with her.

It pains me each time I need to be strict, but now and again she has to be motivated to give her utmost in tasks she does not like to perform. “Practice this harp solo for the rest of the week,” I scold her one afternoon. “I will not have any sloppiness from you. Ever.”

Her eyes tear up, and she bends her head over the instrument. Her posture tells me that my message is crystal-clear. I know that she will skip her secret sword practice from now on and put more efforts into mastering her harp.

********************************************************************

Knowing of Grianán´s passion for painting I teach her lines, I teach her shadows. Soon we can move on to design.

In the third month we approach blushing watercolours. Next comes the blending of oils. Grianán likes acrylic paint most. So I ask Narthex to order some from Amnion and receive them the following day.

A written invitation from Draň surprises me. It has been a while since I heard from him, but it is better not to let him into the lodge while my pupil is around. I need to be sure that Grianán is safe from exposure.

At court I am known as the monster with no heart, the shadow creeper. I can live with those charges, but I could never forgive myself if Grianán would become became the victim of harassment just because she cares for me.

I decide to meet the boys in our favourite Inn to plan our hunting trip.

“Elk hunting is common in this region,” I state and clean my mouth of the beer foam immediately.

“What about Gwyllion?” asks Taran with wild flickering eyes.

Draň sighs. “The Tjiehenet family unfortunately put a stop to that once that half-breed Heulwen was born. Sorry, friend.”

“We could make an exception. Gwyllion really spread like a disease in this part of Ceilonwyn. I am sure nobody would miss a single specimen.”

My stomach churns. I cannot believe that they really discuss this in front of me. “Hold on!” I get out. “We are talking about Elves.”

“Elves?” Taran looks down at me in disgust. “Gwyllion are vermin like flea or ticks.”

“But they will not bite you,” grins Draň. “Or give you relapsing fever.”

Their laughter fills the air and other people in the pub, not aware of what is discussed at our table, smile at us.

“Enough,” I state flustered. “I am the master of the hunt and we will not commit homicide.”

“More like pest control, if you ask me, Luçien.” Taran’s eyes look more feral than usual. “They are not Elves. They are snake demons.”

Before I can say anything, the barbarian prince sputters, “My current love interest is out of reach for me.”

“Who is it?” leers Taran over his beer.

Draň blushes like a maiden. “Nobody of interest.”

“Ah go on, go on, go on,” urges the werewolf.

“Her grandfather would not let me anywhere near her. The old man is very determined about us not making out.”

We nod in heartfelt unison, Taran and I.

“That royal master valet is really trouble.” While Draň takes a hasty gulp from his ale, I feel my blood freeze. “He was trained as an assassin ages ago and knows some nasty combat moves. Caelestris begged for my life when he found us together in the royal stables. She is an angel though.”

********************************************************************

(To be continued!)