Disclaimer: I don't own either Juliet Marillier's work or Tamora Pierce's. If I did, do you honestly think I would be putting up fanfics about my own work? I didn't think so.

A/N: Just to clear up any confusion that might ensue in the following chapter – first of all, this chapter will explain almost all you need to know for about the Sevenwaters Trilogy for my fic if you haven't read it. I'll put more explanations in on request. Second: only people from Tortall (or surrounding countries) are reincarnated. People descended from Fainne are their own characters, though they may share names with an ancestor. That's all for now.

The Watcher in the Needle

Finnea sat with her grandmother, reciting the lore of her people. She was learning well, and was training to be the next Watcher. Her family had lived on the same tiny island for over one thousand years, magic passing from parent to child every generation.

The most people there ever were on the island was under ten – Finnea's great grandparents on her grandmother's side, her maternal grandparents, her parents, her brother Conor, her sister Sorcha, and herself. She and her siblings were named for the first Watcher's aunts and uncles, she herself after the half-swan, half-man, Finbar.

Since Finnea showed a great aptitude and love for the Craft, her destiny was laid out for her. She would learn the lore of the Druids, and the magic that was her heritage until she was eighteen. At that point, she would be permitted to leave the Needle for up to five years, during which time she would find someone to marry. Then, she would return to the Needle with her husband, where she would increase her magic prowess and Druidic knowledge until she took up mantel of the Watcher.

In this post, she would make sure that the Islands stayed undiscovered by the rest of humankind. She would also scry constantly, keeping up with world affairs, waiting. When the time was right, the Watcher and her family would re-enter the world, bringing with them magic and enlightenment. However, Finnea highly doubted that that would happen in her lifetime. Generations of Watchers had waited for the correct time, and never deemed the world ready.

The life of the Watcher was a lonely one, but it did have its benefits. For one thing, nearly everyone born to the line of the Watchers inherited as well as deep red hair and mulberry eyes, the ability to tap into the wells of Magic. Sorcerers and Sorceresses also had abnormally long lifetimes, being in their prime after having reached the age when normal mortals would perish. Best of all, in Finnea's belief, were the visits and tutelage from those powerful beings known as the Fair Folk.

It was soon after her seventeenth birthday when the Lady of the Forests and her fiery consort appeared before her on that day while she was studying with her Grandmother. However, today, Finnea noticed a difference in the appearances of the King and Queen of the Fair Folk.

The Lady, known to some as Deirdre, appeared as she usually did – an amazingly tall, amazingly beautiful woman with hair the color of deepest night, lips the color of freshly spilt blood, skin the color of purest snow, and a cloak the color of the deepest sea. However, today, this beautiful woman seemed to have an extra, ethereal glow creating a halo about her body. Finnea decided that must be a trick of the light in the dim chamber of the Needle.

However, the change in the Fiery Lord was much more pronounced, and could not be attributed to poor light. Instead of being pale with hair of fire, the man had dark skin and black hair. However, he was recognizable because of his armor, which shone with a fire-like radiance.

Finnea stood, and sank into a deep curtsy. Her grandmother, however, had no such reverence. "Did you have to come now? We were in the middle of a splendid lesson, and have no time for your games. Say what you have to say, and be done with it!" The older woman was famous for her fiery temper.

The Lord and Lady were not angry; the Lady seemed almost amused. "Liadan, please leave us alone a minute." The Lord's face was stern as always, as was his voice. "We have things of the utmost importance to discuss with the girl. The time has passed for our games. We play no longer."

Liadan, named for the first Watcher's aunt, was taken aback at this, and left the room without further objections.

"Sit, my dear, and don't be afraid." The Lady's voice was kind and soothing, and Finnea hurried to do her bidding. They all sat around the small fire burning in the center of the room. When the Lady spoke again, all traces of amusement were gone from her voice. "It is time. However, there are a few things I must tell you of first."

"To begin with, we are not fairies, as many call us today. We are actually the gods and goddesses of another world, whence the ancestors of all humans came. We did not conquer the Fomhóire, but came to an understanding with them. We would watch over the humans, and they would tend to nature. In this way, they would be protected from those humans who wished to reign supreme here, thus eliminating all other manner of spirits, such as themselves.

"It is also a lie that the line of sorcerers is descended from one of the Tuatha De' who was made an outcast. You are simply an undiluted line of people possessing magic from the old world. That she was cast out from a race of gods was simply a lie created by Lady Oonagh as a way of comforting herself because she didn't possess healing powers. However, different mages possess different aptitudes for things – that's the way it has always been.

"Now, as I'm sure at least partly know, the world is on the brink of tearing itself apart with nuclear and biological warfare. And as magic destroyed the old world, magic must save this one, for if war breaks out here, there will be no survivors." The Lady of the Forest stopped speaking on that ominous note, and her fiery consort picked up the narrative.

"Now, child, we do not ask you to do this alone. You will go to America, where you will meet a group of young men and women in whom the spirits of Tortallan heroes reside. That is to say, heroes from the old world. These people will be able to help you, magically or otherwise. Unfortunately, some of the people who have returned will do all they can to stop you. Equally unfortunate, we're not quite sure who has been reincarnated, and we're not sure which bodies most of the spirits reside in. Now, we will tell you what we do know."

The Lord and Lady of the Tuatha De' Danann spent the next few hours briefing Finnea about the heroes and villains of King Jonathan's time, as well as some history of that time. Finnea listened intently, absorbing the new information quickly. Finally, the Lord and Lady, who Finnea now knew were also called Mithros and the Goddess, allowed her to sleep.

When Finnea awoke the next morning, the two Old World deities were by her bedside. "You must pack now." Mithros' voice held urgency. "Time is of the essance, and you must enter America now. When you are packed, we will transport you there."

Finnea did as the god bid, and when she was done, a glimmering portal sat in the middle of the room. On either side of it stood Mithros and the Goddess, both of whom had changed form once more. Now, they were no longer inhumanly tall and beautiful, but fairly normal looking humans. They looked as though they may as well have been Finnea's parents.

"Wait." Finnea was suddenly distressed. "What about my family?"

Deirdre's voice was kind. "We shall explain once we've left you among the others. They will understand – it is the task of the Watcher to be ready for a situation just like this. Now, we go."

With that, Finnea stepped forward to the portal, without so much as a backward glance. She slowly stepped through, and felt as though she'd stepped through a curtain of water, though she was completely dry on the other side. Mithros and the Goddess followed her through, and when Finnea looked around, she saw she was in front of a school in a small town in America.

A/N: Not much to say here, as I haven't gotten any reviews for my altered first chapter, but I will still send out a few thanks. First, to Rivin, who enthusiastically encouraged my continuing of this fic. Second, to Ironi Numair, from whom I took no ideas, but did get a bit of inspiration from her (his?) fic Hourglass. Please, please review. Criticism is welcome; just keep it civil, please. Thanks for reading!