We hope for the best but prepare for the worst." – Jareth Ó Rourke
In the middle of the night, Sarah heard Saoirse begin to cry. There was a guard posted outside her door every time she was sleeping alone, because of the last Formorian incident. However, Sarah knew this cry - it meant she was lonely, and she silently slipped out of bed to go to her baby.
Standing at the crib, looking at the child, was a very large man in leather armor, heavily muscled, with long blonde hair. He had a glow about him that was clearly supernatural. This time however, she didn't panic. She had met this man before. He was Jareth's grandfather, and his name was Lugh.
Lugh was also one of the most prominent gods in Irish mythology. A member of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Lugh was a warrior, a king, a master craftsman and a saviour. To this day, he is associated with skill and mastery in multiple disciplines, including the arts. He is also associated with oaths, truth and the law, and therefore with rightful kingship. Lugh is linked with the harvest festival of Lughnasadh, which bears his name. His most common epithets are Lámfada, "of the long arm," possibly for his skill with a spear or his ability as a ruler) and Samildánach ("equally skilled in many arts"). Lugh died when he was drowned in battle, and as one of the Tuatha dé, upon death, went to the Land of Youth, Tír na nÓg.
Sarah had met him briefly at Samhain, a time when the veil between worlds was thin. She wasn't aware that he could visit at other times.
As though reading her mind, he turned to her. "Greetings, Gariníon. I am here to bestow gifts that will aid you in the coming war."
Of course he could read her mind. He was a god, but he was also Tuath and family. She curtsied, thinking, so there really will be a war. She was hoping there would be small skirmishes at the most.
He took her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. His face bore a resemblance to Jareth's, although Jareth was lean and muscular – Lugh was heavily muscled and almost seven feet tall.
"As I have said before, you are strong and wise. Necessary attributes for a good Queen."
"Thank you, your Grace," Sarah said.
"In the upcoming war the kingdom – nay, the entire Otherworld, will need intelligent strategists. That is a role destined for you, and I have a gift for you to strengthen that." With that, he traced a Celtic spiral on her forehead with his thumb. It burned sharply for a second, but then mellowed to a faint warmth.
He had released her face, but kept his eyes intently upon her. "Your daughter is to receive one as well, and with her gift of turning time, this will serve her well. It is the gift of Samildánach, the skill of many arts. My InÍon Garphaíste is high spirited, and this will allow her to manage her life productively."
"So you know about her time traveling. Might you know why she can do this?"
Lugh gave an unexpected smile, and laid his hand on her belly. "When my Garmac Jareth decided to meddle with time travel, there was an unexpected consequence. You, being human and not Immortal at the time, were affected. Jareth was not."
"Your eggs, a mother's necessary part of bearing a child, were altered. The time travel changed you, and any child you might bear. Once you became an Immortal, however, that altered things as well. If you bear another child, he will not have that ability."
Of course. They had been warned about the dangers of time travel and unexpected consequences. Yet she and Jareth had gone to Paris in the 1920s for their honeymoon. This explained so much. But then – then he had said that if she had another child it would be male. Her eyes widened at this.
He looked at her and briefly nodded. Then he bent over the crib and gently used his thumb to trace the Celtic spiral on Saoirse's forehead. She began to cry again, doubtless because of the initial pain.
Lugh turned back to her. "You will see me again shortly. Please give my blessings to my Garmac." And with that, he shimmered and disappeared.
Sarah bent down and took her daughter in her arms. She sat down in the rocking chair next to the crib and begin to sing softly to her in her clear Irish soprano:
"I took my love, I took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
'Til the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too
Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too
Oh! I'm getting older too
Oh-oh, take my love, take it down
Oh-oh, climb a mountain and you turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide bring it down
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide bring it down
The landslide bring it down"
~~~Ó~~~
The next morning, Jareth woke Sarah with soft kisses on her shoulder and neck. She murmured softly and turned toward him, smiling with her eyes closed.
"Love," she said, "I have something I need to tell you."
"I already know. Remember?"
"Lugh said that our next child would be a boy. But I know I'm not pregnant yet."
"Maybe that's something we need to work on," Jareth smiled, his hand gently sliding up her silk gown.
She bent her head back on the pillow, arching her back slightly, just loving his touch. He raised himself on one elbow and kissed her softly. She kissed him back, sweetly tracing his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. She could hear a slight growl in the back of his throat.
That gave her the impetus to insert her tongue between his lips, tasting his velvet softness and reaching for him. Her core was becoming warmer, almost electric. Jareth could do this to her with just a touch or sometimes, just a look. Oh, how she wanted him. She marveled at how lucky she was to have someone wake up next to her that she loved and wanted this much.
He had knelt on the bed, with one knee between her legs. Cupping a breast underneath the silk, he gently pinched her nipple. He looked deeply into her eyes and bent down to kiss her again, this time harder and more urgently. Sarah raised her hips to feel his hardness. She let out a small whimper of desire.
Suddenly there was an urgent knocking at the door. Jareth's eyes flashed. Since Sarah had come back, his infamously quick temper had all but disappeared. At times however, like right now, it reappeared.
"Who is it?" he snarled.
"It's Finn, Jareth. I wouldn't have awakened you this early but there's been a Formorian attack right in our kingdom. Several goblin houses were set afire last night. I thought you would want to meet with the Privy Council." His voice was strong and completely serious. Not the joking Finn that Sarah was so used to.
At this news, Jareth snapped into another role, that of King. He left the bed and begin to dress quickly. He looked at Sarah and said, "Love, I'd like you to come. I was going to wait to ask you this, but I'd like you on the Privy Council now."
Sarah was completely taken aback, but honoured to be asked. This was an incredibly large honour, especially as there were no women currently on the council. Hopefully she could change that. Quickly she dressed and went down the steps with Jareth.
Once in the council room, Sarah saw some familiar faces, and others she had not yet met. To her pleasant surprise, Eimile and Brielle were there as well. Eimile looked at her and squeezed her hand. "It's about time we've had women on this council!" she whispered in Sarah's ear.
~~~Ó~~~
After the meeting, Sarah's head was spinning with all of the information she needed to remember. She also learned other things; that being given the gift of strategy, she would be the main strategist for their kingdom. The other kingdoms would have their own Privy Councils, strategists, their own armies; but they would all be working together. Eimile, with her equine and fighting skills, was to be Head of Horse for the battle. In most kingdoms of the Otherworld, women fought alongside their men. Brielle was positioned as head healer, would be working with Ixonia and they would also be bringing down trauma surgeons from Above.
~~~Ó~~~
Most of the council left, but the family remained for breakfast. Cillian looked at Sarah and gave her a warm smile. "So, I understand my father came to see you last night."
"He did," nodded Sarah. "He bestowed some gifts upon Saoirse and I."
"I know you've been given the gift of strategy, but what about my little granddaughter?"
"Samildánach," said Jareth, his mouth full of bacon. Sarah glared at him.
"I think your wife is perfectly capable of speaking for herself," said Cillian gently.
Jareth caught Sarah's glare. "So it would seem," he said humbly. He couldn't forget this morning, and was hoping to pick up where they left off this afternoon. But if Sarah was angered enough, that would certainly not happen.
Sarah broke her glare and turned to Eimile. "So? I have been dying to know what happened last night!" She whispered.
Eimile's face broke into a wide smile, but she kept her eyes on her plate. "Not now," she said quietly. "Sometime today we will try to get together and I can give you all the details." Sarah reached over, grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Eimile looked at her with the most joyous expression Sarah had ever seen on her face.
After breakfast, Cillian smiled at Sarah and said, "So where is my little Gariníon?" Both Cillian and Brielle couldn't get enough of their first grandchild.
When the nanny brought Soairse into the room she saw her grandfather, squealed, and reached for him. Cillian scooped her up, held her in the air and wiggled her a bit. Saoirse laughed. It was an adorable sound and one that she had begun doing just lately.
Sarah happened to glance at the doorway leading to the foyer. Standing there, leaning against it, was an older Saoirse, this time maybe 15 or 16. She had tears running down her face. Sarah quietly got up and went to the doorway to speak to her. No one noticed.
"Sweetheart," she said quietly, "what's the matter? Is there something I can do?"
Saoirse shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes and face. "No, I just wanted to be here for a little while."
"But you seem upset. What's wrong?"
Saoirse shook her head and swallowed hard. "Nothing. There's nothing anyone can do." And she vanished, this time leaving no glitter.
~~~Ó~~~
Roughly half an hour later, Cillian and Brielle were still playing with Saoirse. Jareth was sitting back, talking to Finn. Sarah, while still concerned about her teenaged Saoirse, had just began discussing with Eimile what had happened last night when a small goblin entered and announced there was someone at the door. Jareth told the goblin to show the visitor in. It was Tadgh. Hat in hand, he looked around the room. When his eyes rested on Eimile, the look on his face was so obviously enraptured that Sarah had to smile. Eimile's eyes shone. She stood up, telling her family, "I've got to go. We have a - a thing." Then she grabbed Tadgh's hand and left the room. He barely had time to wish everyone goodbye before she pulled him out.
Almost everyone in the room looked around, confused. Except for Finn and Sarah.
"And let's give a great big warm welcome to cluelessness!" Finn said, clapping his hands.
"What?" said Jareth, annoyed that he did not understand what was happening.
Brielle nodded her head suddenly, knowingly, and smiled.
"What do you think has been going on between your sister and Tadgh these past few months?" Finn asked. "It's something that I noticed, of all people. I can't believe thatyou didn't."
"They're friends," said Jareth. "They've been friends since childhood. Why shouldn't they spend time together?"
Sarah bit her lip, smiling, and looked at Jareth."Love," she said, "they've become a bit more than just friends…"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Eimile doesn't do relationships. We all know that."
"She does now!" Laughed Finn.
The look of incredulity on Jareth's face made Sarah laugh. "You know, your little sister doesn't tell you everything she does."
Jareth just shook his head. "I can't believe I missed this."
"Well," said Finn, "You know now. And I, for one, cannot wait to see what happens."
~~~Ó~~~
Lugh – LOO(k)
Gariníon = GAR(dh) – in – een - Granddaughter. You'll notice that Lugh uses this term for Sarah, as she is married to his grandson. Cillian also uses it for Saoirse.
Garmhac = GAR – wac – Grandson
InÍon Garphaíste = in – EEN GAR - hay - great granddaughter
Lughnasadh = LOO – na – sa – A Gaelic
festival marking the beginning of the harvest season. Historically, it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man. Traditionally it is held on 1 August, or about halfway between the summer solstice and autumn equinox. Lughnasadh is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals, along with Samhain, Imbolc and Beltane. It corresponds to other European harvest festivals such as the Welsh Gŵyl Awst and the English Lammas. It is named for the god Lugh.
Lámfada, = La – WAD – ah - "of the long arm," possibly for his skill with a spear or his ability as a ruler
Samildánach = sam – EEL – ee – gan – ugh – "Equally skilled in many arts"
Tuatha dé Danann = Thoo-a day DU -non (Also known as the people of Danu) A race of gods and demigods who ruled Ireland during a golden age and defeated the Formorians.
Tír na nÓg = teer – na – NOGE - also known as the land of eternal youth, among many other names. Tir na nÓg is depicted as an island paradise and supernatural realm of everlasting youth, beauty, health, abundance and joy. Its inhabitants are described as the Tuatha Dé Danann or the warriors of the Tuatha Dé, the gods of pre-Christian Ireland, who engage in poetry, music, and entertainment.
Samhain = sow – WENN – Samhain is a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the "darker half" of the year. Traditionally, it is celebrated from 31 October to 1 November as the Celtic day began and ended at sunset. This is about halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals, along with Imbolc, Bealtaine and Lughnasadh. Historically, it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man. Similar festivals are held at the same time of year in other Celtic lands, for example the Brittonic Calan Gaeaf (in Wales), Kalan Gwav (in Cornwall), and Kalan Goañv (in Brittany); both Celtic branches are roughly as old as each other. It is believed that this is the one time of the year when the veils between the worlds of the living and the dead are the thinnest and most easy to penetrate.