A/N: This is a doozy of a chapter, folks. I suggest grabbing a drink before you settle down for the ride.

Reviews and PMs for questions/clarification are welcomed and cherished. I adore dialogue about the mythology surrounding this tale, and any of the characters therein.

Chapter Soundtrack:

One World, Celtic Woman

Not With Haste, Mumford and Sons

Magic, Jasmine Thompson

When You Believe, Celtic Woman

Chapter 36 - Rúin agus Mianta (Secrets and Wishes)

"By fairy hands their knell [death toll] is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung."
- William Collins

Maleficent scowled mightily as she rode Caitriona's proffered black mare towards the castle, which loomed in the distance as sinisterly as it ever had in her youth. Word had reached their relatively peaceful summer home near the Moors that Dúngal mac Selbaig had been stirring the small council into a frenzy after the untimely dispatching of his most fervent follower, Adkin mac Alec. With the recent death of Lord Cuthbert from old age, she and Aurora had lost their most fierce loyalist on the council. Filled with young men that had inherited their fathers' Houses within the recent years, it was chaotic and filled with squabbling that gave the most rested mind a headache that lasted for days.

Aurora rode next to her astride the white mare that was her favorite, though the animal was looking worse for wear in its age. The faerie atop the saddle was gloriously beautiful however, with her gilded curls bouncing and wafting to and fro through the winds created by their travelling. The Queen had always been more at ease in the garb expected of royalty, even if she'd not been raised wearing it. In preparation for their journey, Aurora had commanded the finest gowns be sent from the wardrobe. Even in the unseasonably warm morning, she wore an ermine edged cloak that ruffled in sync with the bronze feathers that were revealed now and again by the breeze. The peasantry, farmers, and middling citizens of the mercantile class would need to be placated along the way by the keeping up of appearances. Maleficent would have liked to fly, but both Luna and Aurora had insisted that they looked more human and approachable if they rode. The matriarch of the family group had smirked amusingly at Luna's insistence on the matter: she knew that her daughter was simply itching to catch a ride on her beloved familiar and steed.

Behind them, Airgid's heavy silver-shod hooves pounded the ground as he proudly bore the would-be Queen of the Moors. As Maleficent glanced back, she was momentarily stunned by the utter beauty of the young woman that looked so much like herself. Riding aside as per her preference, Luna's silver gown glistened in the rising sun. Her long umber hair had been expertly teased and coiffed by Caitriona in the dark wee hours; pearls studded along side buns laden with intricate braids, and all the frippery of human millinery somehow accented the faerie Princess' slightly severe cheekbones. She'd put on weight in the last two months, Maleficent mused.

Marriage looked well on Luna – her bright smile that brought Aurora's keenly to mind was seen on a regular basis as of late. Her jawline had softened with the excess of food and drink she'd been squirreling away in the past weeks. At that realization, Maleficent had wondered but not spoken a question aloud. As if sensing the stare, Luna met her mother's gaze with a beatific smile of tranquil happiness. It was completely at odds with the feelings resting in Maleficent's gut at the happenings inside the palace, but she mirrored Luna's expression with a tight lipped reply. That earned her a softening of the young woman's eyes, as if she were trying to convey her peace across the air to relieve the perceived agitation.

Unable to hold the exchange any longer without feeling guilty for her reticence, Maleficent turned forward once more. The black and cream damask gown she wore itched at her delicate shoulders from the motion, and she resisted the urge to claw at the fabric and arrive at the castle bare. Snorting indelicately to herself at the thought of what the humans would think of that sight, she gripped the reins tighter to with one hand. The other rose up to nudge a newly forged silver circlet that the metalworkers guild had sent as a Midsummer's gift securely against her forehead. It was deceptively heavy due to the large olivine gems that decorated either side. The gemstones were rare, typically given by trade with the Picts who had in turn received them from the Viking tribes farther north. She knew the men of the guild had toiled long on the piece, meant to show their support for the crown and its strength in trade and wealth. Her ears were being pinched mercilessly by pearl earbobs which she'd been wheedled into wearing by Luna so they'd "match." In short, Maleficent felt ridiculously adorned.

"Just a bit farther, darling..." Aurora yelled over the noise of the horses galloping. "One council meeting, an afternoon reception, and then you can change out of that horrid frock." Her violet-blue eyes shone with understanding – she must have seen her reaching to scratch at the dress's neckline.

Sighing resignedly, Maleficent peered at their surroundings rather than acknowledging she'd been caught. Citizens had been alerted by runners and criers of their progress back to the castle, and began to line the streets to greet their monarchs. At their admiring glances and waving kerchiefs, her back straightened and wings fluffed haughtily. If there was one quality in her character that Maleficent considered a flaw, it wasn't her darker nature or even her quickness to anger; it was the pleasure she felt at being found beautiful. She'd never thought herself such, and found the emotion of pridefulness queer in relation to anything other than her ability to strike enemies dead.

Shadows began to fall upon them as buildings rose around the Queen's Highway, signaling their closeness to the main keep. "Do we really have to stay the week, 'Rora?" Maleficent called back to her mate. In all of their many years residing here during the winters, she'd never felt quite so uneasy about entering the gates since... Well, since. Her stomach churned and wings stiffened to lay flat against her back.

Luna had no shortcomings regarding the foreboding heap of stone, and waved grandly to those who threw confetti and blooms down from the windows and ramparts in welcome. "Oh, Mother! Don't be such a worrier. We'll have this nonsense sorted out in short time." Pulling Airgid up to a brisk trot beside Maleficent's mount, she grinned viciously and clarified, "By niceties or by force, it will be done."

Such a wickedness fell upon the sweet lips, it made Maleficent's feathers stand on end. The Princess looked so innocent, one could easily forget how cruelly she'd been raised in Mabh's court of the Unseelie. The capability of violence and savagery lay underneath that pretty face, and the mother was loathe to think on it. "I don't doubt you'll be of great help, little one," Maleficent muttered.

At long last, they entered through the main gate into the outer bailey, dismounting quickly to hand reins off to waiting stable workers. Luna spared a moment to soothe Airgid; whispering softly into his fuzzy white ears and running her hands tenderly down his neck. The familiar's whickers were plaintive – he didn't feel safe around so many humans, but would follow his mistress's orders. The sight of it made Maleficent's heart clench in reminder of Diaval's departure with the Seelie court on their trouping back to the southern lands of Britannia, claiming he'd wanted to see the world and requesting his release from her life force. Gritting her teeth, she sniffed back a tear and raised her chin to hide the quelling sadness.

Aurora noticed. She always noticed – acutely in tune with her bean chèile's emotional tells. Resting a hand gently on Maleficent's shoulder, she smiled rather bleakly. "He'll be fine..." her voice trailed off. "I'm sure Titania is showing him a grand time."

Maleficent pretended to startle out of a reverie, and raised an eyebrow in question. "Hmm? I didn't quite hear you, mo chroí." She quickly interrupted any response by beginning to walk. "Shall we go inside?" she called back to Aurora, refusing the topic of conversation.

Watching Maleficent abandon the stableyard to march up the main stairs, Aurora shook her head and followed to meet her mate's side hurriedly. They had a small council to wrangle into obeisance.

Alexander wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and gratefully took the cup of watered down wine from Caitriona's hand. It was insufferably hot for the early days of Meán Fómhair,[1] and he'd been tasked by his màthair-chèiles and mate to assist carpenters and laborers in the finishing of their cottage's expansion. The tiny home was growing to house their growing family – an additional two bedchambers upstairs for he and Luna, and guests. Downstairs, a small reception room with attached library would serve as support. The kitchen had already been overhauled in the first part of the project, the dining area sufficiently lengthened to house a new table and chairs, and separated by a wall for more formal affairs.

"I don't know why in Danu's name they insist on having me work like a human," he groaned at the dark haired beauty that looked on the workings appreciatively.

Caitriona's eyes sparkled, and she chuckled politely into her palm. "I believe a good husband is measured by his ability to provide. Perhaps in exchange for marrying into a kingship, you're being expected to pull your own weight? Or better yet, perhaps they wish you to bond some with the subjects while at work?" she reminded him wisely.

Giving the little mortal woman a crooked grin, Alexander shrugged. "It doesn't quite work that way for the Lands of Faerie, lass. I'm merely the Prince Consort at the moment – quite a low position in our royal rankings."

Curious at the bit of knowledge dangled, Caitriona took the bait. "And what would make you King of the Moors, then?"

Announcing her arrival behind the pair, Isobel answered for Alexander. "A child, of his making. He can't assume Kingship of the Moors until his essence assumes dominance over the Queen's womb. Rather arcane," she groused, seating herself on a low sawhorse.

Caitriona sputtered at the personal nature the conversation was headed. "Why that's simply..." her mind worked quickly to find words for the odd tradition, "a complete reversal of the way human realms do it. Instead of a Queen waiting to be crowned as such until an heir is born, faeries do that to the Kings?"

"Aye, indeed," Alexander griped jokingly, holding a palm to his chest in mock offense. "The women of the Fae are quite monstrous mean to us poor menfolk. All I'm apparently good for is nailing wood and nailing..."

"Good sir!" Caitriona exclaimed, holding her hands quickly against Isobel's ears.

The faerie Princess howled with laughter and tugged Cait's hands from her head. "It's fine, silly goose. I'm going to be fourteen soon, I know what goes on between a man and a woman." Eyeing Caitriona mischievously, she added, "And between a woman and a woman!"

Glaring down at her companion and charge, Cait decided to get the subject matter back to something more educational. Fixing Alexander with a stare, she questioned, "Then why was Oberon named King of the Seelie before her Majesty Titania was Queen? She didn't have a bairn until she was nearing a hundred years, I heard... and by a human lover. It doesn't make sense."

Sighing and rubbing at the back of his neck, Alexander then motioned for Caitriona to sit down as well. "That... is a long story, with many twists, turns, and intrigues. She wasn't 100 years old when she had my Da. It was more like she had my Da one hundred years ago. You see, my Daideo and Maimeo don't truly love one another – it's a marriage of convenience and consolidation of power." Looking somewhat melancholy at his statement, he rambled on. "I suppose they must have at least liked each other once – perhaps like the fleeting nature of Maleficent's dalliance with Aurora's father. But truthfully, I think Daideo was just looking for a beautiful and powerful faerie Princess to take the place of the Queen he had ousted with much reluctance. He is the eldest of that Queen's many sons borne of Celtic human kings – close to thirty, some say... though only seven survived infancy because she was such a pure-blooded Fae. Shallow pool, murky waters... and all that rot."

Isobel had stilled preternaturally at Alexander's tale. It brought up many instances of dark history in her family, some of which most faeries would rather forget forever. Caitriona looked on quizzically at the Princess's sudden behavior, and then back at Alexander. "I'm still not following. There was a Queen of the Seelie, who was mother to King Oberon before Queen Titania became his wife? I don't mean to offend by prying..." she queried.

Alexander held up his palms in peace. "No offense is taken, girl. The Seelie Queen did not bear any daughters, so her crown went to her eldest son Oberon. In his early years, he was quite lazy in handling human interactions... quite the introvert, really. Initially, this did not bother the Queen, for she knew her son would eventually become a strong King of the Fae. However, under his rule she noticed how mortals were straying from the old ways. They began to become ignorant towards us, not leaving out cream and honey or cakes, and some even regarding the Fair Folk as childish fantasies that never existed."

Pausing to whet his tongue with a swig of wine, Alexander then blew a breath dramatically. "In her anger, she demanded the throne back, or that Oberon change his ways. Daideo did not see things as his mother and soon banished her from the Seelie Kingdom. Mabh, angry and bitter took refuge in the far reaches of the Lands of Faerie, reorganizing the Unseelie under her Queenship."

"Mercy me!" Caitriona crowed.

Nodding beside her, Isobel whispered conspiratorily. "If that isn't bad enough, King Oberon took Mabh's own sister for his bride – his aunt for all intents and purposes, though much younger than Mabh and by a different sire. Her beauty and wit was renown, and he sought to solidify his claim to the throne against his Mother by marrying Titania, much to Mabh's consternation."

Counting on her fingertips, Caitriona seemed to be notating generations. "So that is why Queen Maleficent is named as a sort of niece to both?"

Alexander nodded stiffly once, his mouth a grim line. "Aye. Four or five generations down, depending on if you're going by pure Fae birth or including the human dams and sires of changeling Fae. It took Lysander and Hermia quite some time to conceive her." A dark look crossed his eyes at that statement. Hefting a hammer to knock a nail, he turned his face to the side to end the conversation for now, "Some say they had so much trouble because she's so much human. Looking at her now, you'd not think it. No, I think her elan was simply destined to come at the time it did, falling to the Earth as prescribed. A necessary evil, if you will." He continued to knock the nail, turning his back on the pair. It was not in time to stop the heavy bronze tool from smashing his fingers though, and he jumped with a yelp to throw the hammer towards the trees in a fit of anger and cursing. The Seelie Prince's skin glowed a nasty green at his suddenly foul mood.

Taking Caitriona's hand, Isobel hopped off the saw horse and scurried into the portion of the cottage not under construction only to stop once they'd reached the far wall, well away from Alexander's ill temper. The Princess looked relieved to be sure, and it struck a chord in Cait's heart. Isobel was rarely afraid of anything.

"Was he just... Could he have hurt us in his irritation? Why ever was he mad, beyond the smashing of his finger? He started to grow gloomy well before the hammer bit." Caitriona stammered, wringing her hands and staring back at the front door.

Bel looked around, as if to sense whether Alexander would come after them in apology. Satisfied that he would stay outside after a long minute of silence, she began to whisper. "Yes, well. Your little human ears do not hear the arguing between he and Luna the past few nights. Their hammock is in the tree just outside our window since Titania has closed off the portal. I have quite the drama to keep me awake."

Plopping down into a chair and leaning forward so that her face hovered mere inches from Isobel's, Caitriona motioned for her to elaborate.

With a slight groan, Isobel began her gossip once more. "Luna wants a baby, and surprisingly or not, Alexander does not wish one at this time. First he argued that she was too young, and that they had many years to worry about it. Then, she brought up Mother's issue carrying Luna in her early forties – hardly even considered old for faerie child bearing years. He bit back that it was probably Mabh's fooling around to cause trouble, but Luna isn't convinced that it wasn't just womb troubles and that mayhaps Mabh was just waiting around to snatch her in the knowing of Maimeo's long wait in concieving Mother. Only having one child from a faerie marriage is highly unusual, so Maimeo must have fallen pregnant more than once..." Clawing at her blonde tresses in frustration, Isobel rolled her eyes. "Of course being a man, he argued his way around that. He's afraid Mother will be cross with him, getting Luna on with child so soon. I don't know how he expects to resist her wiles for long. They share their marriage bed often enough, though he hasn't left blessings on the farms!" she hissed. "Not a word of this, though! To anyone, Cait. Promise me."

Moving her hand tentatively to squeeze on top of Isobel's, Caitriona rested her forehead affectionately on the Princess's. "Shhh," she soothed. "I promise, Ishbel. I won't speak of it to anyone but you. You can trust me."

Isobel's iridescent eyes grew wide at that statement. "I can trust you?" Her voice was awed.

"Of course, Princess of the Most Highly Infuriating Loveliness. How can you not trust the woman you sleep next to each night, and does your hair?" Caitriona joshed to cover the innate truth hidden in her words. Wrapping an arm around the blonde's downy soft wings, she admired the way the light hit the brown to reveal blue and violet. She squeezed the faerie close in an embrace, feeling overcome by the simple touches and secrets they'd shared today.

Achingly slow hands rose up behind her back as Isobel returned the hug, even going so far to bury her face in the crook of the human's neck. "I don't think I've trusted anyone for a long, long time. Not even myself...I'm not sure I can," the princess murmured.

Petting hands dotingly over the white-blonde curls that had frizzed in the heat, Caitriona responded, "Then it's a good thing that humans feel so deeply to make up for our short life spans, as your Mother says. My trust is big enough for us both."

Luna and Maleficent climbed the stairs of the castle towards the bedchambers and private studies, exhausted from the day's events. Aurora had gone up already with her scribe to whittle away at the growing stack of parchments that would need to be annotated and signed by the Queen's hand.

Stopping on a landing, Luna pulled at Maleficent's hand. "Mother, can we rest here a moment? I'm ever so tired from the council meeting and feasting."

Turning towards her daughter in concern, the elder faerie pursed her crimson lips. "Perhaps if you didn't eat so much at dinner, you wouldn't have a stitch in your side. I've been watching you," she warned, still perplexed.

Her smile wide, Luna shook her head. "Oh, battling words with Dúngal mac Selbaig just gave me quite the appetite I'm sure," she appeased lightly.

"And here we have the long-lost Princess Luna, if she really is who she states, married off to the Seelie Prince without our counsel! Majesty, if I am being honest… I am quite affronted by the lack of council input into such a pairing," Dúngal wheezed, his fist pounding at the table across from Aurora.

Aurora's eyes blazed with offense at his over-reaching. "And why does that affront you, good sir? She is our daughter, and as such was given permission to marry by her Monarch. I can assure you, no troubles or intrigues shall come from the Seelie Court on Alexander's behalf. He's made himself quite clear in his loyalties by staying with us as Prince Consort of the Moors, making no claim over the human realm."

Luna pounded her own fist on the table, and bared her teeth in a short grimace. "I am happy and love my husband, mac Selbaig. We shan't be a bother to the humans, so long as the Moors are not provoked."

Leaning forward, the red-bearded man growled. "And what does that leave us for succession, Princess? Your sister, the white witch? Heavens help us! My daughter was taken as her companion without my say-so, which I allow only because your mothers are the Queens. What human man would marry such a beastly girl to bear a son for this kingdom? I can find none."

Maleficent's talons clenched at her palms so tightly, she was sure they drew blood. Her voice was quiet and deadly as she retorted, "The Princess Isobel is of her own mind on her mate, Lord mac Selbaig. I haven't a clue if she'll ever choose one, nor will I force her to. What would be so wrong in allowing a male offspring of Princess Luna and Prince Alexander to rule as per this kingdom's insistently agnatic succession?"

"What's wrong with it? What's wrong with it?" Dúngal exploded. "It'd be a bloody Fae King, not raised by humans to care about human matters… Good Christian matters! And how long would we have to wait for the wee princeling, eh?" he looked knowingly towards the other council members. "Everyone knows the Fair Folk lineage is weakly carried, at best. Your kind is dying out, Maleficent." Some of the men assembled voiced their assent by knocking on the tabletop, while others wisely looked anywhere but at Dúngal in their silent dissent.

Aurora stood to gather attention from the troubling man. Walking slowly around the table to meet each man's eyes, she spoke peaceably, "Have we not been good Queens to you? Have the Fair Folk not blessed this kingdom with wealth, harvest, and riches beyond compare? Must you all be so grasping at the new religion that the very idea of a faerie King is abhorrent to you?"

A young councilman by the name of Fergus mac Leod spoke up softly. "Of course, you've been a good Queen to us, your Majesty. We simply wonder if the Fair Folk are merely at your behest because of your… affection for Queen Maleficent, and now your current state. You know both ways – human and Fae. Though I am unfailingly loyal to your Majesties, and my family has Fair Folk blood, I fear the imaginary princeling in question may not appreciate his human side as well as you. The men and women of my line that carry Fae heritage are ever so tempestuous, refusing to stay put to inherit their Houses." he shyly ended, smiling sweetly in apology at the beautiful Queen.

"Enough of this, I say!" Dúngal mac Selbaig interrupted the tête-à-tête. "You see, my good men… Their Majesties refuse to see reason. As I am next in line of succession past their line, I speak on this with the highest interest for our kingdom. My son, a fully human lad, has come to his majority this year. Shall he not be groomed to inherit his birthright because we squabble about the wholly improbable results of Princess Luna's get?"

Standing so quickly her chair toppled, Maleficent growled as she began to glow. The horned faerie was completely incensed at this point. "You dare to speak of my daughter as if she is a faulty broodmare, mac Selbaig?"

Glaring hatefully back at her, Dúngal spat his reply. "Aye I dare to, my Queen! Word has spread about why Princess Luna was found in the hands of the Unseelie rather than your own arms to nurse and raise. Your line's women are insufferably incapable of their feminine duties. Your mother had only you. You! A horned visage of Hell!"

Quickly grasping at Maleficent's hand to stay it from strangling the councilor, Aurora's face was livid. "You forget yourself, sir!" she yelled, incapable of withholding her ire further.

Sensing he'd gone too far and played his hand too openly, mac Selbaig played another card. "I want my daughter back, your Majesties, and as soon as possible. She's of marriageable age, and I won't have you filling her head with faerie nonsense or marrying her off to another one of your Fae cronies."

Luna rose gracefully from the council table to walk in front of the horrible man. "Never I say, Lord mac Selbaig. Caitriona has asked for the protection of the Moors in refusal of your insistence at her betrothal. She will not be forced into a convent, either. The Moors protect their own," she quipped smartly. "Anything to challenge my protection would be seen as an act of treason against my Lady Mother Aurora, as she is currently Queen of both kingdoms."

"Mother? Mother…" Luna called singsong. "Where did you go?"

Blinking with a start, Maleficent trained her face into calm once more. "I apologize, dear heart. I was merely pondering the happenings of earlier."

Walking up the stairs once more, they fell into companionable silence for a time. Luna nudged a wing playfully at her mother. "You looked like you wanted to skin mac Selbaig alive earlier, and just now," she commented.

Frowning, Maleficent thought her words through before speaking quietly. "I do not enjoy his line of thought, or how he feels entitled to wonder at your capability to bear heirs, Luna. You're so young, my precious jewel… So very young. Cannot you and Alexander have some seasons of love and happiness before being saddled with the responsibility of raising children?"

Luna's chin dipped a bit, and her wings began to droop. "That's what Xander says, but I'm not of the same mind Mother. I want so many children! I want to fill the Moors with glad tidings and joy that only the most innocent of minds can bring forth. Our babies would be so happy there, frolicking and breathing Life once more. I may be young in years, but I wish so much to begin now. It was so lonely growing up alone. What if I only have one child?"

Momentarily shocked at the young Princess's wishes, the faerie Queen tried to lighten the situation. "Many children? How many is many, Luna?" she chided.

Smirking with humor, Luna responded tartly. "Oh, I don't know. Twelve or so to drive their seanmháthairs[2] to wits end?"

Maleficent tripped on a stair, and held the wall for support. "Twelve?" she questioned, her voice gone dry. A memory of a time long ago came to mind. 'I don't like children.'

Seeing that her plan to rile Maleficent's feathers had succeeded, Luna scurried past and up the stairs. "You won't have to wait for long, Maimeo!" she called jovially.

Suddenly, it all made sense in perfect clarity to the Queen as she watched the princess bound up and away. Overeating. Hiding food. Radiant skin. Lustrous hair. Rounded cheeks. Unfailing happiness.

"Luna, don't exert yourself! Slow down and walk softly!" she screeched, ascending the stairs in chase.

[1] Meán Fómhair – September

[2] seanmháthairs – grandmothers