Disclaimer: Yadda yadda yadda….and Yoda. Yoda just rocks. Truth told, he does…I know this is a shameless plug in a Labby fic…but it's YODA!!!
Note to readers: Some may recognize some of the content here…I rewrote a chapter, separating it into two and adding quite a lot. If you have not read the first part, please do so, or you may be lost.
Sheltering Wings
The mountains were a strange yet breathtaking place…she wandered, the child happily on her back, and often gaped in wonder. There were trees so tall that they captured clouds in their lower branches. A rough, uphill climb through dark, damp trees often ended in a golden, sun-touched, perfectly flat meadow. And at the end of these meadows were sheer cliffs…the stones of which were weathered and worn, making them appear less menacing than their razor sharp reality…
Her feet, still bare, soon grew tough and leathery. Her hands acquired several small, white scars from scrambling up the rocky precipices. Her once flowing hair soon became snarled beyond repair; and when it began to snag on stray bushes, she simply cut it. Now her verdant green locks swung only to her shoulders…all the better to play with seemed to be the child's opinion on this change.
Today's sun…rising through the bitter fog that blanketed this particular cliff, found the pair sitting…or rather perching, on the very edge of one of the meadows. The vista below was breathtaking. The land visible was not of the country she knew…they must have crossed a border sometime in the night. Winter was almost upon them…and still they had no shelter. Then she heard a faint howl… Turning she was confronted with a horrendous sight…a pack of wolves. They were not hunting her, no, their attention was for a large deer, but the whole group was headed towards the edge…and her.
Her first instinct was to jump from the ledge…spread her wings…but she caught herself. She couldn't fly with the added weight of the child. After a few more moments of thought, she had run out of time. The stag was backing towards her, rearing at the leading wolves. She could smell the musk of the stag's fur, the dank, tangy smell of sweat…then the stag was upon her. There was no where left to go but down.
She heard the child laugh as the wind rushed past them. The pure, joyous sound filled her with purpose. She snapped her wings to their fullest, attempting not to fly, but to glide, to slow…In some respect, she was successful. She felt the muscles in her back wrenching in agonizing directions, her left wing crumpled from the pressure of the tearing wind. She began to swing to the left, and then to spin…luck brought her to a ledge some fifty feet from where she started. Then she heard the impact of the great stag, a few feet from where they had safely landed.
* * * * *
When her breathing had slowed, and their survival had sunken into her stunned mind, she stood. The child was burbling happily to himself, she had taken the brunt of their landing on her arms and knees. Thank the sky gods we survived…more or less intact…her left arm and wing both hung limply, useless. But otherwise they were hale and whole. Where fortune had brought them seemed to be small slice of fortune. It was a ledge, roughly a hundred feet across. Deep, rich meadow grass flourished in this little place. A single tree, still bearing some late fall apples, had managed to take root at the base of the parent cliff. And there, set in the very center of the vertical wall of rock, was a cave. She couldn't help it…she laughed; laughed until she cried. And then, cradling her arm, her wing dragging, she explored this little haven.
* * * * *
Upon closer inspection, the cave was an oddity. The entrance was perfectly smooth. She ran her fingers along the edge to make sure, and encountered a symbol, weather worn, carved into the rock above the door. It was a flame of dark stone. She stepped inside and the chill that was the sign of coming winter was gone. There were three little alcoves carved in the wall, perfect for beds. A scorched area around a little rock shelf showed where fires had been lit before…and the shelf itself obviously used as a stove. In the very back, a trickle of water, a hands width wide and cold as ice, ran down the wall, to pool in a deep basin until the overflow was carried out another crevice.
Safe…Her mind whispered. She clumsily untied the child from her back with her good hand, nursed him, and then created a nest in one of the alcoves for him to sleep in. He curled, cherubic, and blissfully unaware of their brush with death, in the makeshift bed and slept. Occasionally small noises and bubbles emitted from his slack mouth, amusing her as she watched the sun set from the cave mouth. Shadows gradually gathered in the cave, and when they seemed the darkest, she spoke… "This was a place of your people once…was it not Silvermane?"
Her words shivered in the air, the shadows rippled and then, keeping his word, he was there. "Yes, once, so long ago that not even we remember…"
"I think we shall stay here…"
"That is wise. It is…primitive, but some slight enchantments still work…ones of warding and warmth…this is a safe place. How was the journey here?"
She grimaced, and turned so he could see her arm and wing "rough. It was only luck that we made it here…we fell off a cliff with a stag…the stag wasn't so lucky…"
"Was the child hurt?"
Her grimace turned to a true smile "No…it was a grand adventure for him."
"Ah, I believe he is untouched because you took damage to yourself rather than see him harmed…" his hand reached out from the shadows to lie lightly on her good arm "That is a mark of true nobility. Now if you would allow me to bind up your arm…it is awkward to do alone with one hand…"
She smiled "I am glad for your offer. It seems each time we meet you are doctoring me…"
He shrugged; busy tearing strips from his own tunic "It bothers me not. It is a service for an admirable woman and it is an investment in the future." The last was said as he gestured at the child's sleeping form.
She winced as he deftly set her arm, only biting her lip kept her from screaming and waking the child. When she had caught her breathe, she continued conversation with this odd man "Ah yes. Is it a curse that you kind cannot have children?"
He regarded her with shadowed eyes, his long, grey hair stirred in a slight breeze. He watched her like this for some time…long enough for the sun to completely disappear. Then he seemed to make up his mind, "It is not a curse…it is more a choice. Our kind once reproduced in two ways…by bringing in outcasts…and by the traditional ways of breeding…then there was born a set of twins. They wielded great power from the start, but since they were children they had not learned the lessons of control, sacrifice, even pain that we now require. These two managed to harness the very energies of the land in which they were born…it was terrible. They were power mad…none of us could control what they did. The very land was rent; the people changed…then came a new people. They sailed in great ships from the east. Two heroes among these new, fair race stepped forward to save the land and the people…we of the shadow met with these two who traveled to our city. We agreed to several things…if these two could kill the twins, and save the remnants of this once fair land, their people could live here, rule…and we would withdraw to the shadows…would not interfere. These two strange heroes managed to kill the twins, the powers they harnessed filtered into the victors…hence the reason that the "ruling" family has such great power over the land and people. It turned out that our own children had caused us to be outcast from our land, broke our rule, our influence…that is why we do not breed. We cannot risk such powers again." The story came to an end as he tightened the last knot that held her wing to her back until it could heal the torn muscle. "So needless to say, children are precious to us, but only those that have grown wise can be brought into our realm…"
"I am sorry for you and your people…a prior bad experience should not limit an entire race so…"
He gave a dry chuckle and stepped away from her "Perhaps not, but better safe than sorry. Do you wish anything else?"
"Actually yes…help with one last thing. Fresh meat fell with us. I can work a knife one handed, but carrying it all…" She widened her eyes beseechingly and smiled, half joking.
He laughed, long and loud, and then followed her out onto the ledge.
* * * * *
The winter passed comfortably, the child grew into an industrial toddler, and her arm finally healed. She soon noticed that the magic of the cave must be leeching into her, because her wings began to darken into shades of velvet black and amber brown. Her skin was even darkening into a deep, dusky lilac, while her hair gradually went to silver grey.
Silvermane visited as often as she invited him, and he seemed amused, even pleased with these changes. The child had learned his name and would demand him in loud, ringing tones "Shivarmain!" She would simply smile and comply.
He was there when the snows melted and they ledge was sprouting green. The two adults simply watched, amused, as the child ran gleefully to the tree that was now sprouting new buds. "Silvermane, my friend, I have a very large favor to ask…"
He faced her, listening…
"It is tradition among my kind that a child receives a name after their first solo flight…but my son will never fly. I cannot name him…will you?"
He sat quietly, as was his trademark, thinking. "I…I am deeply touched…it is an honor. He should have a strong name as I do not believe his life will be easy…"
Nerillwyma called her son over and gently cradled him. "I have told you of the fenns, my son. I have told you what little I know of the world. Now comes something you must always remember…"
"Yes, always remember this day. Your name is Brellan, for a great hero of old that once saved this land."
She set the now named child at her feet and Brellan looked up with complete understanding in his eyes. He opened his baby mouth and quite clearly said "Brewen!" Then he toddled off. A single tear trailed down Nerillwyma's cheek as she turned to Silvermane "Thank you"
He bowed his head to her, and together they watched the child play.
* * * * *
Another year passed in their quiet sanctuary. Nerillwyma Had taken to hunting to replenish their stores. It happened one day that she found a ragged woman cornered by a bear. Swift skill brought the bear down, and compassion caused her to invite the strange woman to her home.
Brellan was reluctant to approach the stranger, and this caused Nerillwyma herself to be cautious, withdrawn. The woman though, showed nothing but gratitude for her rescue, and turned out to be an herb woman that had simply gotten lost in the mountains. Her knowledge brought new flavors to their meals, and gradually, Nerillwyma thawed towards her. She still did not call Silverman to meet the newcomer though…
* * * * *
The new woman watched the child at every opportunity. She knew those looks, the mismatched eyes, the white hair. Yes, she knew them well. Had held their twin in her arms…had danced…had felt her power and her heart break…the memory stilled plagued her. But surely it was providence that she had been outcast so? Had been forced to wander as she was shunned from each village she came too… For here was her ticket back, her revenge, and her future, all rolled into one young, malleable package. All that stopped her now was the mother…the winged demon that guarded him with all her heart and soul…
A small smile played on her lips. How fortunate that she was versed in herbs. How fortunate indeed.
* * * * *
Nerillwyma writhed in fever dreams, her blood burning through her veins. She twisted and moaned, vaguely aware of the woman watching her, and her son gripping her hand in his little fist. Her awareness clouded over, and yet strangely, her perceptions broadened…it was almost as if…nothing were real, then Brellan leaned over her, and she smiled.
"Do not worried, beloved son" She raised her hand to caress his hair one last time, and felt two small, delicate, feathery nubs, her only legacy to him. Joy suffused her, and she found the strength to call out one last time "Silvermane…I would say goodbye to you…please…"
The pendant on her breast flared with a dark fire and surrounded her body in a strange nimbus as Silverman stepped from the shadows at her call.
* * * * *
Lillian shrieked as a man stepped from the shadows on the other side of Nerillwyma's body. His eyes where hidden in shadow and his lips were twisted in a grimace of pain as he reached down to Nerillwyma's oddly glowing body. Then he looked directly at Lillian and growled "Get out stranger. Give us privacy…"
Lillian fled.
* * * * *
Silvermane bent over Nerillwyma and held her hand gently. "You called me noble lady?"
"I feel so strange Silvermane…Am I dead?"
"No. Remember my gift to you? You must now make a choice…"
"What of Brellan?!"
"We shall never abandon him. No matter your choice, I will always look after him…and watch, from the shadows."
"Then let me see Brellan…" Silvermane boosted the child into her line of view "remember this well son…I am not dying. I am going with Silvermane for a little while…I will come back, we will come back. Be strong until then, remember us until then…until then, go…go out into the world with the woman Lillian. Learn. Go now…" Showing the strange understanding that he had on his name day, Brellan toddled out the door, leaving Nerillwyma and Silvermane alone.
"You have decided then?"
"Yes…I accept your gift."
"It seems so small, my gift to you…you gave me a far greater one…"
"Oh? As I recall, you adopted us from the start. What have I ever given you?"
"A son"
"…yes. And we will be back for him. Perhaps it is time for the shadows to end their exile…"
"I believe we just might, if we follow your faith dear one…we just might…"
When Brellan and Lillian next looked in the cave, the couple was gone.
* * * * *
Lillian smiled perfect. It was all so simple, she never even realized that I seasoned her last meal with Dragonberry…the little fool. Now I have the child, the heir apparent, only issue of Jareth. It was so easy to gain their trust. I will be great again…and the child will see to it. She cradled a sniffling Brellan against her ample bosom But first things first… "Your name is now Jareth, little one. You are named for your father." Brellan shivered.
* * * * *
Okay, better. I am happy with it now. I will actually write a new chapter soon. Sorry for the delay.