Cha d'dhùin doras nach d'fhosgail doras.
(No door ever closed, but another opened)
I gaze up at my mother's tapestry, a bear, my mother Elinor, holds the hand of my teenage self. I smile and my crown shifts upon my head, the very same crown my mother wore all my life. It's been five years since my mother passed. My father, Fergis, followed her, soon after, for he had succumb to grief. My father died of a broken heart. Upon their burial I requested their headstone be engraved with a bear encircled in a heart. I did this to commemorate my mother and the journey we shared together. And after all, my father was the bear king for a reason. Though it was my mother that killed the elusive and dangerous Mor'du.
At the age of twenty-three, I was married to a man born of my own clan, on my own terms. I have to admit- I even surprised myself when I said yes to him. I married Owen McFadden, who eventually became Owen Dunbroch. I convinced him to take my name, you see, much to his dismay. He's been a good husband to me. And a good father in due time, too.
This brings me to my daughter, Maeve, whom turns sixteen this very morn. Though I initially protested to having a child, Owen convinced me. It was the greatest joy of my life thus far. After having Maeve, I was not able to conceive any more children, though with three brothers, a husband, and a newborn baby, I've got plenty to care for. Harris and Hubert have married wives of the Clan MacGuffin, and Hamish of Clan Macintosh. They live in our castle quietly, under my rule, though they still cause trouble on occasion and steal sweets from the kitchens. My brothers never cease to make me smile, but they also never cease to defend our lands.
Upon my parents' death, I was crowned queen, my daughter made princess, and my husband granted partial kingship. A man not born of the Dunbroch bloodline cannot be considered a true king. But a good true king he's always been, defending our lands from invaders, and ruling our kingdom with gratitude and understanding.
I walk down the stone hall, past all of my mother's tapestries, down to the great hall. Maeve sits upon her throne, waiting for me. "Ready, Maeve?" I ask, as she looks up at me.
"Aye," she says, "I'm ready," as she brandishes her bow.
"I'm finally teachin' ye how to shoot properly," I say.
"I dinnae know why it took ye so long," she quips.
I look down at her in disapproval, "Ye know ye have to attend to yer studies, Maeve. Learn yer kingdom," I say, in a tone my mother would be proud of.
"I dinnae want to learn my lessons," she says, defiantly, he auburn curls dancing down her shoulders.
"Do ye remember what I told ye?" I ask.
She rolls her eyes and says, "Legends are lessons, I know."
"I didnae listen to my mother either," I say, "And ye saw how that turned out, didnae ye?"
She rolls her eyes again and says, "I've been practicin'"
"Have ye?" I say, "Wouldn't be with my bow, would it?"
She shifts a bit in her chair and averts her eyes. I lean in closer, "Yer in big trouble, my bonnie princess."
Her face turns scared, given my intense expression. I grin and say, "I'm gaunnae smoke ye in target practice."
She smiles and says, "Willnae!"
She swiftly stands up, causing me to stumble backwards a bit, as she grabs my bow out from under her throne.
"Give me that," I say, ripping the bow out of her hands.
She promptly deflates. "Come with me," I say, directing her up the stairs, to the room that was once mine.
"Go inside," I say, as she enters her room.
"What's that on the bed," I say, trying to look nonchalant.
"A bow!" she exclaims, "Ye got me a bow!"
"Worked on the carvings ma'self," I say, "A will-o'-the-wisp led me to the wood I carved it out of. It was meant to be."
"Oh, mum, I love it!" she says, running to hug me.
"Let's go then, yea?" I say, eventually leading her out out of the castles to the stables.
We mount our horses and ride off into the sunrise, towards the clearing of stone circle I will use to teach my daughter to shoot. Though it seems she's already always a step ahead of me. She reminds me more and more of me everyday, and I sound more and more like my mother with every waking minute. Now I understand the responsibilities of being a queen, and adult, but most of all a mother. I worry for my daughter so much, for her safety, future, everything. I understand now why it's so important for Maeve to know her kingdom. But I wouldn't dream of stifling her freedom, or deciding her fate. I've done away with the old marriage rules. I want my daughter to be free henceforth, to forge her own path. My mother taught me that in the end. I wouldn't trade the lessons my mother has taught me for the world.
We finally reach our final stopping point, in the circle of ancient standing stones. I've since set up a target for her to practice on. I glance over to the broken stone, which Mor'du's bones lay crushed under. Though I've been back here many times, it never ceases to make me shudder at the sight.
"Okay," I say, "Stand o'er here."
She follows me and flourishes an arrow out of her quiver swiftly. "Don't be hasty," I say, as she sticks her tongue out at me. I never did admonish her for being un-ladylike. She has a natural tendency to be unruly, and unruly she shall stay. Unless, of course, it interrupts her studies. That's a rule I'm unwilling for her to break.
It's like looking to a mirror, a mirror that shows the past, gazing into Maeve's focused expression, as I coach her into releasing her first arrow. It falls just three inches underneath the red bullseye. "Ye've been practicin'" I exclaim.
She throws me a look, obviously very pleased with herself. I raise my own bow up, brandish an arrow, release it, all without breaking my gaze into her eyes. The arrow drills through the dead center of the bullseye. "But I'v been practicin' longer."
"That's cause yer old!" she yells, laughing.
"I'm beggin yer pardon, missy!" I say, laughing, face riddy and embarrassed.
"Just shoot another arrow," I say.
She take her aim, but doesn't flush the arrow with her cheek. The arrow sails over the target. "I'll get it," I say, heading into the woods.
I look around for a moment, "How far did ye shoot that thing?" I say, exasperated, not being able to find it.
A few moments later I hear a scream. "Maeve?" I call, running out of the woods back to the circle.
"Mum!" she screams, as I see her, in the distance, being carried off by a bear, deep into the woods. I pick up my bow and run after the creature, aiming, not daring to shoot for fear that I'd hit my wee lass. "Maeve!" I scream, feeling my old legs becoming weak.
I fall to my knees, watching her stream away into the nothingness. I begin to sob, my precious daughter, has been taken. I sit there a long while, not really knowing what I should do. Suddenly I hear a familiar sound.
Across the ring of stones there's a blue wisp. I stand up and run through it. The wisp disappears. Another appears, and then another, and so forth, leading me down along a path through the forest. Suddenly the wisps disappear and I look upon a familiar sight. I gaze down at the rebuilt witch's cottage. I thought I put her out of business the last time I tried to change by fate. I have no intention of crawling back to her now. She almost got my mother killed last time. Still, why would the wisps lead me here?