Oracle
-Dancing With Lightning
A/N: Hello, I'm back again! This story is another whole 'short one' that could be elongated, I know, but I don't feel like it. Anyway, I think it's perfect the way it is. You might not think that, though.
Just a little something: please, if you don't like the way I write my stories, or you don't like the story in general, don't write something like: 'Oh, this story sucked. I SO can't wait to read your next one!!' Because, seriously, useless flaming is stupid, and I frankly won't take any advice from your comment, I'll just ignore it. If you don't like it, get over it, and write something useful. Not some crap. By the way, there are no chapters in this one: I found it too hard to divide up. Anyway, it kinda too short to be a full chapter. But, enough of my rambling:
Enjoy my story!!
Oracle
"Sweet," Hunter whispers, kissing her ear. Morgan reluctanly opens her eyes, then frowns as she realises Hunter is out of bed and already dressed.
"What are you doing?" she demands sleepily. "Come back here." Hunter laughs and kisses a line of warmth beneath her ear.
"My last New Charter meeting, over in Wexford," he explains. "I'm taking the eight-oh-five ferry. I'll do my meeting, tell them to get a replacement, and be back by dinnertime at the latest. We can get some of that fried stuff you lover, all right?"
"All right," Morgan says, stretching luxuriously.
She sees a familiar roguish gleam in his eyes as he watches her stretch, then curl up again under the covers. He looks at his watch, and she laughs. "You don't have time," she tells him.
"Love you," he says, grinning, opening the door.
"Love you, too," Morgan replies.
"Forever."
Morgan Byrne rubbed her forehead as her husband brought out a birthday cake. Her daughter was sitting at the table with her friends, her young face alight with glee. Moira looked up at her mother and flashed a smile, and Morgan smiled back. Fourteen years ago...
Morgan was in labour. She had two women on either side. Peggoty Adams, the village midwife, and June Hightown, another midwife. Morgan looks at Peggoty, a question in her eyes.
"It won't be long now, my dear," Peggoty says soothingly. She whispers spells to keep Morgan calm, and June makes up a teat for her to drink. Morgan gulps it down, wincing at the awful taste and smell.
Finally she was pushing.
"Is she okay?" Morgan asks weakly.
"She looks perfect, just perfect," Peggoty says with approval. "Goodness-she's nine pounds even. A lovely, plump baby."
"Oh, good," Morgan says, falling back on the pillow.
Peggoty beams. "And now I bet the proud papa would like to hold his little girl?"
A man steps forward hesitantly and holds out his arms.
Colm Byrne smiles at his daughter, taking her tiny hand in his. "You and I are going a long way, little one," he whispers.
"Happy birthday dear Moira.... happy birthday to youuuuuu!!"
Morgan started, glancing around. Moira looked up at her mother, looking a little concerned. She mouthed: 'Are you all right?'
Morgan nodded, wiping a hand over her forehead. She nods again, this time to reassure herself.
Moira smiled, satisfied, and blew out her candles. After Colm turned the lights back on, Katrina, Colm's mother and Morgan's mother-in-law walked up to her, leading an older woman.
"Morgan, dear, this is Harriet. She wants to talk to you." She then bustled off.
Morgan nodded, tucking her long hair behind an ear. "Of course. Hello, Harriet."
Harriet smiled. "Morgan. I want you to say this to me. Are you truly happy?"
Morgan opened her mouth to say indignantly, 'Yes!', but something held her back. "Well..."
"I know you aren't. I can see it in your spirit."
"You can see my—" she looked around, and then lowered her voice, "hello—spirit?"
"That doesn't matter, dear. I want you to do me a favour. Tell me, one thing. What would you wish for if you could? Think about that, and then wish for it."
Morgan shrugged. "I want Moira to be happy, of course."
"But Morgan, what about yourself?"
"Me?" she shrugged again. "Umm... you know what? I don't know."
Harriet frowned. "Look, tell me what you want. I can only give you one wish, and it has to be for you."
"One wish? Are you a genie now?"
"Talk later, wish now."
"I wish I was truly happy again."
"Sweet," Hunter whispered, kissing her ear. Morgan reluctantly opened her eyes, then frowned as she realised Hunter was out of bed and already dressed.
"What are you doing?" she demanded sleepily. "Come back here." Hunter laughed and kissed a line of warmth beneath her ear.
"My last New Charter meeting, over in Wexford," he explained. "I'm taking the eight-oh-five ferry. I'll do my meeting, tell them to get a replacement, and be back by dinnertime at the latest. We can get some of that fried stuff you lover, all right?"
"All right," Morgan said, stretching luxuriously.
She saw a familiar roguish gleam in his eyes as he watched her stretch, then curl up again under the covers. He looked at his watch, and she laughed. "You don't have time," she tells him.
"Love you," he said, grinning, opening the door.
"Love you, too," Morgan replied.
"Forever."
It was then Morgan realised.
She got out of the bed, pulling on jeans and a shirt. "Hunter, wait!!!" she called, running down the stairs after him. She caught his arm as he was about to walk out the door. He smiled at her.
"What is it, love?"
She shrugged. "Do you... have to go today? I was thinking, maybe... maybe tomorrow. And I'll come with you."
He frowned. "What's going on, Morgan?"
She ran a shaking hand over his hair, tears forming in her eyes. "I don't want to lose you again."
He jerked her into a hug. "You never lost me," he whispered, making her cry harder. "I've never left you, not really. And it will be just the same. I'll only be gone for the day."
"But, Hunter!!"
"What?"
"Please!!! Please, don't go!!"
"Morgan..." he began to look extremely concerned. "What is going on??"
"I just... I have a bad feeling. Please don't go."
He looked impatiently at his watch. "Well, I can't go now," he said. "I've missed it. Morgan, love, it's all right. Nothing was going to happen to me."
"Yeah," Morgan nodded, drawing a shaky breath. "Yeah, nothing will happen now."
"Happy birthday dear Moira, happy birthday to youuuuuu!!"
Morgan started, glancing around. She was back at Moira's fourteenth birthday, and it was all the same. With a sigh, she walked out of the room, and outside. A tear fell from her eye, running slowly down her cheek. That was when she heard footsteps behind her, and a young voice ask,
"Mum?"
She turned, quickly brushing the tear from her cheek, smiling at Moira.
"Mum, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, sweetie," Morgan sniffed.
Moira raised her eyebrows. "Sad to see your daughter growing up, huh? Is that it?"
Morgan shook her head. "I'm just having a bit of a rough day."
"Well, I'll go and get Da and he'll cheer you up, kay?"
Morgan nodded, and as soon as Moira was gone from sight, she let her head hang and the tears come. She didn't hear footsteps behind her, but her face crinkled with silent sobs as warm, strong arms, wove themselves around her.
"Love, what is wrong?" a voice murmured.
Morgan froze. No, no.... no, it couldn't be.... she spun around, looking at her husband.
Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Are you all right?"
Morgan buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed, her whole body shaking. She thought back... fourteen years ago...
Morgan was in labour. She had two women on either side. Peggoty Adams, the village midwife, and June Hightown, another midwife. Morgan looks at Peggoty, a question in her eyes.
"It won't be long now, my dear," Peggoty says soothingly. She whispers spells to keep Morgan calm, and June makes up a teat for her to drink. Morgan gulps it down, wincing at the awful taste and smell.
Finally she was pushing.
"Is she okay?" Morgan asks weakly.
"She looks perfect, just perfect," Peggoty says with approval. "Goodness-she's nine pounds even. A lovely, plump baby."
"Oh, good," Morgan says, falling back on the pillow.
Peggoty beams. "And now I bet the proud papa would like to hold his little girl?"
A man steps forward hesitantly and holds out his arms.
Hunter Niall smiles at his daughter, taking her tiny hand in his. "Hey beautiful one. I'm going to make sure that you're taken care of. You're not going too far, and neither am I," he whispers.
Morgan looked up at Hunter. "Nothing did happen to you."
His raised his other eyebrow. "What are you talking about, love?"
She shrugged, sniffing. "Never mind."
They both walked inside, Morgan holding Hunter's hand tightly, almost as a reassurance that he was actually there.
Colm waved a hello from the fireplace, and Morgan waved back, hardly believing that he wore no wedding ring. She looked at her left hand--there. A gold band with an emerald on it. She glanced at Hunter's, and saw a plain gold ring circling his finger. She looked up to see Katrina coming over to her, leading an older lady.
"Morgan, dear, this is Harriet."
Morgan looked at the woman. Then at Hunter, who smiled at greeting to the woman. She looked back at Harriet, and smiled.
Harriet smiled back.