Sacrifices

The fog has covered this land too. The dense gloom of the mist that had could not be explained by the greatest scholars of lore that the Tuatha could provide set my mood as we descended from the sky to land in the crumbled ruins of Tenochtitlan in a carriage pulled by nemean magpies. It was ... smoother than the ill-fated Cairo flight but ... I much prefer sailing. Let Wuyi have the sky, I'll take the crest and valleys of the ocean any time.

Though I had agreed amongst my selves that it would be Rhia's dominant personality that was allowed to travel this time around (the better to ... adjust to the interesting dynamics of working with... well, that's moot now); the gloom sparked the foul mood that has plagued Anann and I since a year prior. The children barely get to leave the mansion due to our fears that my faerie blood in them will be enough to trigger the trance that has fallen over any other fae around the city. Even now, it's haunting tendrils tug at me to disappear into it and it takes a nip at my ear from Ann to distract me.

Ben and Tal ... had not changed in the slightest. The others were greeted with smiles and pleasantries while I was greeted as their tool to be used because ... well ... neither of them could politic their way out of a shallow pit with steps. The backhanded compliments and the fact that I was no one's ... mm. It stuck with me, burrowed under my skin to fester much like the mist that cloyed at my body as we walked into the arena meant to house the contestants for the Sun.

The Sun ... I regretted my promise to aid Tal in her bid for that position. It had been made before Cairo, before Norway, and it had been made before I could rationally think of my opinion. Perhaps given years, decades to grow and mature Tal would become the sort of Sun the Teotl needed - but not now. She shares the same mortal flaws that the rest of the Band and I still hold... but that ... this is thoughts for another reality, one where I thought my promises beforehand.

I kept my promise to her in my own way. Simpering to her and catering to her need would have weakened her. Trials of Calm do not make a leader - adversity does. Sacrifice does. Stripped of all your crutches and finding that spark inside makes one a leader. So ... that is what I did. She would accuse me of betrayal, of breaking my oath but that's because there's a two thousand year difference in our philosophies. She lives in a time where such leaders like the Sun are ... distant ideals. They're grand to strive for, sure, but she doesn't truly understand the impact they have on the world like I do. I remember when my world lived and died on the Morrigan's whims, or the Dagda's trysts. Where what you want and what you need are two terrible differences that rarely could be molded into one perfect union.

Does she understand that becoming the Sun means spending every day fighting back the tides of whatever evil the Teotl battle constantly? Then to die at the end only to be reborn anew to repeat the cycle? That whoever is placed to that position should be the strongest candidate, not the one I promise to help before my memories are truly returned?

But again, musings for another lifetime. Things were tense as a battle was called and while the others charged out - I walked into my own war ground.

Anann's position as my fated lover was only tested three times in my past. From each of these affairs, I took away something that changed me ever onward. When I sailed the Caribbean as a pirate lord, my patron had not been the Morrigu, but the Smoking Mirror, a dark and sensual god that I pledged my spoils too. Where in many ways I was forced to be with Anann ... I willingly chose to disobey my father to follow Tezcatlipoca. Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest, and the taste lingers ... even after a lifetime.

Perhaps it was out of fondness for our shared history, or the fact that his smirk still sent a dark shiver down my spine but I allowed myself to relax around him. I knew his tricks - that his smile promised pain as much as it could promise pleasure - that this little meeting was as deadly a war zone as whatever had assaulted the meeting ... but I didn't care. After our small talk passed, I sat down on the floor and spoke with Eztli, Tal's half-sister.

She ...more than her sister ever did ... resonated with me. I knew exactly what it was like to be under the controlling gaze of a god of strife and discord. Of a dark deity who demanded more than what you were comfortable giving. There was a old pain in her eyes that I could relate to and as I told her of her sisters adventures ... that same need to have some sort of belonging outside of being a god's sword reflected back at me.

Perhaps Tezcatlipoca muddled my instincts here too, but when Eztli asked for a geas, I bestowed one upon her. I won't lie and say it was all altruistic. I knew Tezcatlipoca lingered in the background and I knew without a doubt that if my geas had not been given willingly ... there would have been blood spilled to assure my cooperation. He knew that I was untouchable now, and I feel that he would have happily threatened Enech to make sure his way was won.

Tal can call it a betrayal whenever she finds out - but her hubris and her ambition is not worth shattering my honor to my family.

In the end, it was my blood spilled. A gift from Tezcatlipoca to me, a simple obsidian ax to be exchanged for favors down the line. When he and his daughter stepped through the mirror as the battle ended, I trembled in the room alone - not from any memory coursing through my body - but from terror.

I have this sinking feeling that I am a simple chess piece in this game only I'm being controlled by the wrong team ... and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Long Strange Trip It's Been!

Off the Coast of Spain!

Well, this year's been pretty interesting! While Rhiann and Rhia get settled back home - Anna and I went off and spent a good five or six months just sailing. Of course, this is Anna we're talking about so a good half of the trip was spent discovering ancient ruins and shipwrecks and who am I kidding, here's some pics!

Same wreck.

It was sheer perfection. Seven years dead was seven years away from my ocean. I know that Anann will never love the sea as much as I do, but  I'm eternally grateful that she is willing to try and accept my fascination with it. Though I wish she'd stop calling it 'That Mistress'.

Rylina ~ off the coast of Bahama

While we sailed, it wasn't all shipwrecks and salvage! Met some mermaids down in the Caribbean and spent a week just goofing off. I couldn't manifest a tail however, so they spent the first day or so teasing me about it.

 Ah, Fabio. He's adjusting to Ireland well and the herd is growing - and fast! He has to deal with the local wild stallions that have been sniffing around the mares. It's not too big a problem .... except that he keeps trying to eat the losers and it's um, difficult to explain to the local horse-watchers as to why he tries to do that.

Why is this even... hmph. Oh. I remember. Wuyi stole my camera not too long after I had the talk with my biological father. I met up with her in Seville as she was doing a favor for Belenos (which translates to picking up the kid he 'accidently' forgot). Wuyi's good with a camera at least.

Little Kennedy.

 I'd gush about the girls but I do that far, far too often as it is. Motherhood is something I thought I'd never want and yet being surrounded by the six little terrors is akin to being the most happy I've felt in a good two millennia. I still dislike someone's else's child - they just don't exude the same bond and coo'ing reaction that my own parasites do. And with Anann's blessing on five of them (Monkey claimed his Grandawesome) they all have personalities emerging quicker than a normal child. Fiona's the quiet and serious eldest - as if she knows what's expected of her. The twins are little bundles of mischief even at their tender age. Siofra is ... she looks a lot like Fand and does she have a set of demanding lungs on her! Xiaomei's a cutey. She'll be walking first, it's already obvious that the tail aids in that (and it's soooo adorable when she holds onto you with it). Liath takes after Anann. She's easily matching Siofra as 'little diva'.

And she still has the nerve to blame me!

 Heh, snapped this shot of Anann after the morning when Da and Monkey decided to visit their grandchildren. Of course they spoiled the babies rotten and then left them awake, wired, and demanding for us to take care of. She couldn't call in another aspect (all were busy) and Rhia and Rhiannon were off on business. Wuyi was in Cambodia at the time so... it was her and me and I think the reality of "completing the set" finally hit her.

Although how she manages to look gorgeous while looking shell-shocked is a trick I need to learn. Anywho! Vana and Kelly will be arriving tonight so I need to go prepare.

Homecoming

"Exactly how long are you going to remain furious at her?" It was weird for either of them to hear the other speak. They had been an only child growing up, and hadn't had a twin to adjust to the same timbre and quality of one's voice coming from another's lips. Still, Anann had practically demanded that they speak openly because watching the silent exchange from outside 'was disturbing'.

So, Rhiannon found herself looking up from her unpacking to find Rhia leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her petite chest, her hair loose and flowing down to her waist, and startling blue eyes locked on her motions with the suitcase and wrapped little trinkets from the week spent returning to the mansion. She knew what Rhia asked, but decided to leave it alone. She had just calmed down, after all. "Would you prefer the green shawl, or the blue?"

Rhia's eyes narrow much like a displeased cat. There's a fluttering through the innate mental link the two share, but Rhiannon's firm grasp on keeping her thoughts her own for the moment leaves the pixish aspect with a dark glower and an exasperated eyeroll. "All right, all right. You're still bitchy that she's completed the current set. I get it. Can you at least share what happened in Norway?"

"You have the same memories as I do, why are you asking?"

"Oh, just because the memories of fire, burning, giant skeleton dragons, Bellona -- was she really there?"

"Mmhmm. Remembered us too. She's still touchy about the whole 'Romans got their asses handed to them' detail." Rhiannon smirks as she finishes up the first suitcase. She stops for a moment to eyeball the remaining stuff and vows to never let Anna hop around the world as a raven again. She's wound up with far too many shiny trinkets.

"Right. Bellona - and Loki bet Mars in a chess match?" Rhia hops onto the bed, upsetting several papers that skitter down to the floor.

"Now give Benjamin some credit ... he moved the pieces." Rhiannon says, and the two exchange a perfectly partnered grin at the tease. "In all seriousness, Benjamin needed all the help we could give him (though he only thanked Tal - see if I laud his praises ever again -hmph-) to become close to Mars' intellect but once there, Ben took the lead."

"And then Mars... took you on a tour of the garden?" Rhia's tone is dubious but Rhiannon ignores that bit.

"It was the perfect cover for Vana and Kelly to plant the seeds Jord gave us; and when it wrapped up - Tal gave me the perfect cover for the countdown."

"Then everything went to hell?"

"Something like that," Rhiannon says after falling quiet for a minute. If she closes her eyes she can still feel the flames of the Devourer upon her skin, and subconsciously, she shivers at recalling that haunting cradlesong. "The point is, we dealt a stinging blow to Loki's plan. It's not a perfect victory, but it is a victory."

"What about Kelly?" Rhia doesn't speak that question aloud, but it's echoed in the shared space of their mind, as if it were Rhiannon's own doubts bubbling up to plague her. Yes. What about Kelly, indeed.

Comfort

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, there's the guilt and shame that swirl over Rhiannon's thoughts like oncoming storm clouds eager to unleash their torrent and fury over the roiling ocean below.

That doesn't matter though. It's a simple gesture to throw up the barricade and leave her sulking in silence. Vaguely, she catches glimpses of the flight from the Kindly Ones and there's a roar in the distance as her own failing rise up to engulf her.

It grows to be too much almost, but there's a gentle sigh right beside her ear and the moonlight streams in from the large windows, washing her in the silvery moonbeams until the wave of her emotions ebbs out into that infinite ocean. Soon the water is glass as everything is right for this one moment of existence.

"I hear you thinking and it is far too loud." There's a siblant whisper at her ear, the voice  shivering down her spine. Anann's grasp, even in the drowsy, half-awake state is a steel vice. Rhiannon doesn't answer her beyond a subtle shift within that unrelenting embrace, hoping vainly that Anann will leave it at that. The goddess doesn't, of course. She had to meddle lest it drive her mad and so, after Rhiannon has counted out nine steady heartbeats that rumble like thunder under her cheek; she's tucked and rolled until she's pressed deep into the blankets, a dark shadow falling over her. She tilts her gaze up to meet the midnight black stare of the Morrigan.

"I'm not thinking," she says softly, the tingle of the lie prickling at the base of her neck. She knows Anann can sense the falsehood, for the goddess' perfect cupid's bow mouth curves down into a frown that doesn't break the face that Anann is beauty personified. A thigh glides between her own legs as Anann resettles herself and Rhiannon knows that she'll be awake for a while longer. It's not sexual, not yet-- but it's a sensual closeness as the Matron consoles in the ways that mean most to her.

"All right, so I am thinking."  Rhiannon crooks her knee so that her calf rubs along Anann's own.   Compared to the goddess' ivory skin, Rhiannon's is deathly pale, the anemia turning her already luminous skin near transparent and wane. "Rhiannon's memories of the last few days have filtered in. She finally fell asleep."

There's a poignant silence from Anann as Rhiannon speaks aloud the troubles that plague her mind. She talks about Hammerfest first, and Anann's fingers tickle over her shoulder and trace the line of her collarbone.  When Rhiannon begins to mention the ritual, Anann's tactics change; and Rhiannon's voice catches over a word. Her eyes flutter close and then open again, meeting Anann's gaze questioningly.

"Continue." The goddess commands with a voice as smooth as silk, her expression unreadable as her fingers flex and curl over Rhiannon's body.

Rhiannon's words are a stumble until the rythym's established and she can indulge in a sigh or two without breaking the flow of her thoughts. The conversation dips between bouts of noise and silence, as the crush of their lips together has Rhiannon whispering over the connection of the ring until she's allowed a breath. When Anann's attentions are over her throat, she resumes speaking vocally, the cadence and pitch of her words thrown off by the smile that can't leave her lips now.

By the time Rhiannon's detailing the futile frustration as she's plucked off the battlefield of her unwilling choosing, the words are broken apart by tiny little moans. She gives up the pretense not long afterward and falls into the pleasure that Anann coaxes from her. Like a bird, her spirit soars high and eternity passes by her until reality is gently returned to her. Anann's abyssal gaze glitters with pride as she rolls them until Rhiannon's nestled on her. Nothing's said as they fall into a companionable silence, Anann's touch now soothing and meant to lull Rhiannon back to sleep's cloying embrace, the Vanir fortress nothing more than another footnote in the demigoddess' past.

Interlude I: The First Time...

The moment the midwife had wrapped Rhiannon in the warm swaddling cloth and presented her to Fand, the babe's hazy eyesight stared not up at the golden perfection that was her mother, but toward the dark, fierce woman who stood behind Lugh.

During the early years, when Fand had still been enraptured with the thought of motherhood and thus brought the toddler to every court procession that she could to show off the darling daughter she had birthed, Rhiannon would fidget and fuss until she spotted the shadowy war goddess. On the days that the Morrigan didn't show to Tir Na nOg, Manannan swore that there was no placating Rhiannon's sullen moods.

*****
Rhiannon first meets the Crone the night that Fand presents her before King Conchobar mac Ness. The novelty of motherhood has worn off and Rhiannon's inquistive nature only exasperates Fand now. As the King's grand-niece, she's given over to fosterage and told to behave. Rhiannon twists the bottom hem of her tunic and stares on quietly as the faery queen strides out of the throne room without looking back.

The castle servants had not expected to care for another and so they set the girl-child with the startling blue eyes up in one of the older wings of the castle until more suitable quarters can be located. The night's storm only grows in fervor as time passes. Her fingers and toes are frozen and the fire's nothing more than a memory of dead embers when there's a knock on the door. She struggles with the heavy oak and is terrifed that the shriek of the wind really is a banshee and it's come to collect her. She pulls the door open the rest of the way and rushes back quickly towards the cot, burrowing under the covers and trembling as she hears absolutely nothing.

Minutes pass.  There's naught but the frantic pounding of her heartbeat in her ears and the suffocating stillness underneath the woolen blanket thrown over her head. Her imagination runs wild with thoughts of slaugh and goblins waiting to pounce and when the anxiety overwhelms her, she finally allows herself a peek at the monster at the foot of her bed.

The warmth of the crackling fire in the hearth is as welcome as a summer's breeze on her skin and it instantly chases away the hollow ache in her bones from the autumn frost beyond the room's walls. She watches on in complete silence as a woman who is most definitely not the serving maid assigned to care for her bustles about the room, latching the windows firmly shut and setting another log on the fire from the small stockpile of wood in the corner. When the woman turns about and fixes her with eyes that are darker than the abyss itself, Rhiannon shrinks back into the protection of the blankets and only dares another peek when the bed dips down on her left. Her inquistiveness is rewarded by a shawl draped over her eyes and Rhiannon no longer worries about the storm outside.

***
Rhiannon first meets the Maiden on a hot summer's day the year after Manannan collected her from the castle to spare her from an arranged marriage set up by Conchobar to both secure an alliance and to prevent Rhiannon's growing beauty causing any more infighting amongst the lords that pledged loyalty to him.

She steals away to the bubbling brook while her father courts a Welsh goddess who laughs as gaily as he does and shares the same love of horses and is about to eat the midday meal she had taken with her when a girl about her age passes underneath the low branch Rhiannon uses as her seat. With hair and eyes as black as night, she reminds Rhiannon so much of her caretaker back at Eamhain Mhacha that she finds herself calling out to the passerby and offering to break bread with the girl. Before she knows it, she's laughing and treating the girl who calls herself 'Ann' as if they've known eachother their whole lives.

It's when the sun has sunk low beyond the horizon and the fireflies gleam about her that Rhiannon realizes that she's terribly late in returning to Manannan's ranch. She promises to meet with Ann on the morrow and races back through the shadows of the forest. When Manannan lectures her about missing her chores, Rhiannon finds herself thinking about her friend.

***
Rhiannon's long past the innocent blush of childhood when she finally encounters the Matron. There's no true first meeting; rather more like a series of encounters that have Rhiannon's nerves tightly wound with the anticipation of being cornered by the seductive shadow that lingers in the background of every social event Rhiannon finds herself flitting through.

It grows to the point where Rhiannon can feel that haunting gaze searing into her very dreams and she's watching the crowd for a glimpse of ivory flesh and ebony hair. She winds up obsessed with the woman, ignoring the many suitors in favor of just one more glance through the throng of people. It finally happens one night when her bedchamber is plunged into the solid darkness that only comes during the new moon that the shadows of her room seem to come alive and ensnare her in an embrace that leaves her breathless and yielding underneath the deft, silken touch that plucks a symphony from her body as if she was a finely tuned harp.

White Elephants

There isn’t much to say concerning the events in Hammerfest. Loki was easy enough to sniff out once word got around that we were looking for him. We met up at a gay bar and while Wuyi danced the night away and made the room gravitate towards her, I was turned down by my second ever man. Being two for two, Loki also revealed he was of the ‘preferring the rougher gender’ variant so at least my  rejection shave been consistent. It’s a little bit of an ego-dimmer but I’m not too put out. Regardless, after a deal where we wouldn’t bother him for a full year (of his choosing) he gave us a ring that’ll keep Artemis from properly catching us. It’ll infuriate the Goddess of the Hunt, but it works while we come with a plan.

Well, two plans. The first is a backup ambush set at the fortress. A Do or Die mission that’ll happen when our backs are against the wall. The bait would be one of Artemis’’ favored nymphs or a Scion. But that’s on the backburner. First we talk to Jord and see if the goddess has a less suicidal option for us concerning the garden. I think that would anger Vana, but I’ll do my best to assure the woman that we don’t want the garden destroyed in the slightest. I don’t think any of us do, to be quite honest.

Well, business out of the way, now onto personal matters. For my adventuring self, Kelly’s insistence of rubbing up on Wuyi like a cat in heat kinda tweaked me off. Yes, the relationship’s a little polyamorous. Yes, I don’t mind when Wuyi’s off flirting, but as long as it’s not Kelly. Ever.

 Beyond –that- … wild sex in the hotel room due to my ‘stay-at-home’ self being cheeky with Anann. I was smacked with a willpower-draining retort but really, I brought it on myself and it was all in good fun. I got Anann back a few times too and now I think we’re both plotting our latest ‘attacks’. She’s quite the devious planner when she puts her mind to it.

Speaking of deviousness, I’m concerned. A few nights ago, while the Band had travelled up to the town of Hammerfest, I had a strange dream where Dublin was covered in cloying mist that trapped and ensorcelled the Good Folk to dance and quiver in terror of someone called the Nightmare Lord. When I demanded to speak with this lord (because the pixies and the sprites are distant kin of mine and therefore my family) a Rakshasa approached me and… his voice was so haunting. When I awoke from the dream, I thought nothing of it.

Until the white elephant showed up in the garden.

Anann’s furious because she can’t do anything to the elephant. Commands, physical attacks, nothing that is her doing affects the creature. He likes me though, but I digress. The gift was curious because why would Ganesha send her a white elephant for the relief carved in the mountain? It doesn’t make sense. I mentioned the dream to her and she said she’d have Anna look into it and once again, I put the thought out of mind.

Until just this night. My memories aren’t synched yet so Rhiannon won’t know until the next time she sleeps but I awoke from a dream I don’t remember to seeing the mist over the Liffey river. The faerie lights twinkled in it and I was … I didn’t think twice about it as I left the comfort of my room to wander into that sinister promise. I wanted to go into the heart of the maze and dance. I was just about to cross the border of the mansion’s estate when I bumped into Anann. Well, her and a twinned aspect. They too had been drawn out into the mist. The three of us watched it roll over the town of Dublin and lull the faeries into a trance – it even started to pull at me again when Anann mentioned we should return to the mansion, her touch and voice shaking me out of the spell. Inside, we curled upon the living room couch and promised to never be alone while the mist rolled through the town.

It affected the Good Folk the most, but both Anann and I are closely tied to the faeries and so we’re also a little affected. I’ll start sleeping in her bedroom from now on or perhaps this will have her, Ann, and I all forgo the need to sleep and simply remain together throughout the nights as a precaution.

It’s a sidelong concern in the scheme of things going on, what with the Greeks and Tal’s worries about her father and the Teotl but it’s something I don’t think I can ignore any longer. Still, the Morrigu and the rest of the Tuatha are aware of it now and thanks to my doubled-life, I can keep an eye on this while we concern ourselves with perfecting the final phases of forcing the Greeks’ hands.

Humble Pie Isn't So Tasty After All.

Ever since we left the paradise of Mag Mell behind us, I've been reflecting on the words my grandfather said to me.  You didn't come here for my benefit, Rhiannon, you only came here to help yourself first and foremost. The only one you have ever loved is Gentle Annie and you've both got tempers to match. You're my grand daughter and you've got a decent heart in there somewhere but you're not going to trick me into shattering whatever pull Enech still has upon me.

I can write this as my other half rests in a restless slumber, the cold wind, the weight of the task ahead, and Lugh's words keep me from true rest. The soft press of Anna's feathers against our cheek isn't enough to keep the thoughts at bay, nor is the shared dream of Wonderland sweet enough to lull me fully into the world of dreams.

Even here at the mansion in Dublin, tucked between the sprawled, snoring Maiden, and the possessive embrace of the Matron, I can't help but put pen to paper and just work out the jumble of my own thoughts.

Grandda was right. My previous life's path and the path I had easily stumbled back onto after Elysium was simple enough since I took off from Da's ranch more than a thousand years ago. I came first. In everything. After our reconciliation, Anann overtook that. She came first. She still comes first. You can't woo a goddess and not wind up under her spell.

I don't want to lament on my own faults, but Prometheus' warnings against pride weren't just advice. It was a reminder of my own folly since I was visited. It had nearly made me prisoner in Mag Mell for eternity and it set upon me Bres the Beautiful as an enemy who would be happy to see my skull broken under his boot once more. The argument before the Vanir was more than enough of a final nail in the coffin of my arrogance. I may be a lady of the Tuatha. I may be a Queen due to my marriage to Anann. I may be the daughter of Mag Mell's favorite prince … and that means I should never lose Face as I did in that fortress. Not again. I've got my place in the pantheon to start thinking about. I've got my plans to assure that Balor never sees divinity (mine or anyone else's). I've got my daughters to think on. And I've got Wuyi.

Wuyi, who I have offered to join the Tuatha officially. My Grandfather, Lugh, would confirm her bravery and skill, and Anann (though grumbling) would probably support her claim as well.  She asked to think on it, and so I'll let her think, but I'll make the offer again after we're done with meeting Loki.

Anna says to wear red, that the color is his favorite. She teases that she'll have to peck at my ears if he woos me, but I told her not to worry. I had standards when it came to men, after all! Still, I have a feeling between having a daughter of Odin with us now (who I positively adore. She reminds me of Caoihme, an old… old friend) and the fact that I'm alluring enough to have Loki come sniffing around if I start asking for him … we'll have our meeting with the Lie-Smith.

His task will be just as unpleasant as cutting down the Golden Apple trees but his task would not be for the Titans. It would be a trick that would have us looked upon with wariness, but not resentment. One way or the other, we will have Artemis' first strike against us … while we're essentially on Prometheus' task and that should be enough for a strategist amongst the Greeks to use that to get their pantheon back in the war. They all can't be so content with twiddling their thumbs.

Plus, now that we have rescued a daughter of the Vanir, and the daughter of Odin … it would be terrible to go chop down the garden. Not after Vana came in and was the Queen that I should aspire to be. ...but with a little more seduction added in. I'm not a mother hen, after all. Mayhaps the fight between Tal, Benjamin, and myself was meant to be. Without it, we would have continued on battling the Eagle Warriors who were still pinning us down in the fortress and left her behind.

With that fight, we were able to bring rest to the Vanir ghosts, watch their last stand one more time, and bring Vana out of her thousand year slumber. Fate, mysterious ways. I should know, I'm sleeping with her.