And here we are! We've left the good Captain behind, for the most part, but fear not, this fic is far from other (I wonder if that was actually a comfort...). In any case, with this chapter we're going into a new part of the story, a lot needs to happen still before our heroes get back to their time. It's barely the forties after all! Of course, things won't be happening every single year, there with me time-jumps, a lot of them, but I hope you'll like how I handle things.

Now, in this chapter I'm bringing in another fandom (one that's not on the crossovers heading this fic). I'm talking about X-Men. We'll mostly be staying pre-canon in this, but I hope you'll like what I've written anyway. I don't know if I've said this before (I tend to forget what I write in my ANs), but X-Men was one of the main reasons I wanted to do a time-travel, I just love young-Charles and young-Erik... Anyway, while this follows movie-canon, I'm warning you that there will be some specific details taken straight from the comics, you might identify them, you might; don't worry if you don't, it will all be explained in due time.

The song for this chapter is Ballyeamon Cradle Song, an Irish lullabye, you can find several videos with people singing it in youtube, in case you're interested.

Cradle Song

Every mother knows at least one song, that which she sings her baby at night.

On March 20th 1949, at 17:48 EST, Rose Alfdis Stark Serrure was born in Stark mansion in Upstate New York. With assistance from a discreet, well-paid midwife. We'd gone down that route in case either the baby was born looking different in some way, or if my magic happened to act out somehow (it'd happened a number of times during the pregnancy). Thankfully it was a normal (if long) birth. Rose came early, barely eight months, and she was a bit on the small side, with a head full of what looked like the beginning of bright-red curls. Her eyes had been a shocking mix of red, orange and black at the moment of her birth, but had turned brown by the time the midwife turned her full attention to her.

I also had a dream, the last night I was pregnant, of two girls: one with long waves of mahogany hair and eyes like the tiger-stone, in an off white dress with red accents; and beside her a slightly taller girl, the same age, with bright red hair and dark-chocolate eyes in a sand colored dress with yellow accents... the most shocking part though, was that they were both surrounded by fire, scarlet flames dancing around them, never quite touching either. There was also the fact that I was only pregnant with one child...

Rose Alfdis was, in many ways, our dream-child. None of us had forgotten Helena, and we never would. But she was a grown woman, and had been so for centuries. She'd been Tinúviel's first (and only) child, my past-life had gotten the chance to watch her grow, be there for her... but Rose, even in my life as Tinúviel I'd lost her; and then again when I had that miscarriage at nineteen. Finally, after years of fearing that the day might never come, she was there.

Hakon adored his little sister too. Even if their age difference was considerable (13 years). We made sure he never felt less, even if he wasn't ours by birth, he was our son, and we made sure he knew it. They were our children, and both my match and I loved them with all our hearts.

Things did change though, in the following years. In the early-fifties, I was supposed to be in my early-thirties, but I didn't look it (I hardly looked past my early-twenties, according to some), and while that was perfectly normal, seeing how I'd pretty much stopped aging at twenty-one, it was dangerous, with the kind of public lives we lead. The world wasn't ready to know about all the non-humans who lived among them. So we decided it was time for a change.

After making sure that our friends would be alright, we as a family packed our bags and moved to London. It was a temporary arrangement, of course, the last thing we needed was for us to disappear and the whole world to begin looking for us. So we planned our departure from the public-eye in stages. Howard didn't even complain, he just wished us best.

In London Sia went straight to work in the local SSR offices (her status as the Valkyrie, while highly classified, meant that the few who did get to know her there, knew better than to ask questions about her own mostly unchanged appearance). Luke, for his part, chose to go to Oxford as a teacher (History and some Culture Studies). I joined the Faculty of Linguistics, also at Oxford, adding a new degree to the list. It was also there I first met Charles Francis Xavier...

Hakon had joined his father and I in Oxford in Fall of 52, aiming for a BA in Jurisprudence, with an option for an additional year of Law Studies in Europe. Even at 16, he knew what he wanted of life, not only when it came to being a lawyer. He'd told my love and I, in no uncertain terms, that he'd be joining the army once he had his degree (either the American or British one, both were possible, since we all had double citizenship). Hakon had been truly marked by WWII and the two years we'd spent going from base to base; but more than that, he'd been greatly influenced by the Commandos. They were his heroes, not just Captain America, but the team as a whole; he admired them greatly and wanted to be a soldier, and a hero, just like them. And while my beloved and I didn't quite agree with some of his beliefs (while Steve, James and the rest of the Commandos were certainly remarkable people, that didn't mean all soldiers were good), we would still support him in his decisions, we could do nothing else. So my son would grow up to be a lawyer, and a soldier; in a world that, I knew, had still way too many wars to fight.

In the Fall of 1953 I was dividing my time between teaching my daughter to read and write and the beginnings of math, and working on my Philosophy and Linguistics degree. I was taking a psychology class (it was a requirement), though I'd never been a fan of the topic (mostly because I'd always believed that if I ever had to actually talk to a shrink they'd believe me to be crazy and I'd probably end up in a straight-jacket in five minutes... and that's not taking in consideration how my family would react to that). Mostly I found the class somewhat boring and halfway through it I began scribbling things on the margins of my notebook, notes to remind me of going to store and buy some things for Rosie, maybe supplies to make the chocolate-chip pancakes Hakon loved so much (my daughter preferred them with fruit). I got distracted enough that I didn't actually notice when class finally ended; not until I was practically alone in the hall. Then I cursed mentally in Gaelic, threw my things inside my bag and rushed to the door; it was my last class of the day and I really wanted to get home...

I didn't see him, not before I crashed into him and always went down. I think he might have tried to hold me to stop my fall, but I reacted instinctively before he could do anything at all, twisting in a half-controlled spin, my feet almost tangling with one-another; a small skip to a side and I finally managed to regain my equilibrium, half-crouched in front of the lecture hall's door. I'd even managed to keep hold of my bag and while a couple of things were precariously on the opening, nothing had actually fallen out.

"Oh my apologies!" I heard the person I'd crashed into apologize.

I recognized his accent as British and it was almost instinctive to adopt a somewhat similar one as I responded (it was a quirk that I'd gained during the war, imitating the accents of whoever I was talking to; it'd helped put some people at ease, as they didn't think of me as much of a stranger).

"It's quite alright." I assured him. "No harm done."

"That was some incredible footwork." He praised me. "You must be a terrific dancer."

I briefly wondered what he'd think were he to know I'd learned such footwork while learning how to fight, rather than to dance. He looked at me oddly. For a moment I could feel something, like a sort of touch on my surface-thoughts. I didn't react, letting the memory of the recent lecture color them, along with some relief for having avoided a fall. As I did that I also continued looking at him carefully, waiting for the signal, and then I got it, as he raised a hand to the side of his head, his eyes narrowed minutely before widening.

"Remarkable..." He breathed out. "Absolutely remarkable."

I knew then it was definitely him, his mind was touching mine, or my surface thoughts at least; and not only that, he'd realized that he could go no further. A part of me wanted to snap at him, didn't he know that minds were private. It was one thing for our minds to touch instinctively, a passive scan; if he was some kind of psychic that was only natural; but for him to actively try to get into my head... at the same time, I really didn't want to call any more attention to myself. So I chose evasiveness as my tactic.

"I have no idea what you find so remarkable, aside from the fact that I didn't fall on my face just now." I stated as I moved past him. "But I really don't care. I have places to be and I'm already late. Have a good day!"

I walked away, fast but without quite breaking into a run, before he could say anything else; hoping that would be the only time I had to deal with him.

Of course it wasn't. It actually was until the second meeting that I realized who he was exactly:

"Did you know your beautiful eyes are consequence of a very specific genetic mutation?" I heard him before I saw him that time.

"Excuse me?" It was late afternoon, on a Friday, and I was walking out of the library after finally finishing a tedious project for my phonetics class (I was also late for dinner).

"My name is Charles Xavier and I'd really love to admire your eyes over some drinks, or dinner if you're amenable." He offered.

"Drinks? Dinner?" Half of my mind was freaking out over the name, trying to fit the blue-eyed, brown-haired young man before me with the aged, wise, Professor X; while the other half responded almost automatically. "Has anyone fallen for your genetics talk yet?"

"Not quite yet, I'm still perfecting it." He admitted with his most charming smile. "You're a... Psychology major?"

"I'm studying Philosophy and Linguistics." I corrected him. "Psychology is, regretfully, a requirement for the term." I shrugged. "Also, my name is Arianna Serrure."

I'd dropped the Stark shortly after arriving to London; the last thing I needed was to call attention upon myself simple because of who my 'brother' was.

"So, what do you say about dinner?" He insisted.

"I know your kind." I told him bluntly.

"My kind...?" I couldn't help but notice his defensiveness.

It was also about then that I felt, again, his touch as more than just a graze in my head. It made me realize how my words could be interpreted (not that that excused him trying to violate my privacy... or that he would succeed).

"Yes, the whole Casanova-thing." I shrugged. "More often than not it's nothing but an act. I cannot help but wonder, are you truly attracted to me, or have you just run out of girls in your own department?"

"I've found that the girls in the Science-Department aren't quite as beautiful as some in the Humanities." He was really laying it on thick.

"As flattered as I am by your words, I will have to decline." I told him as kindly as I could. "I'm afraid I have a previous engagement."

"So, not tonight." He nodded. "Perhaps some other day..."

"I'm afraid it's the kind of engagement that will keep me busy for the rest of my life." I cut him off with a small smile.

I was about to call attention to the tattoo around my ring finger and its significance (both my love and I still preferred those over actual wedding bands), when two completely unexpected arrivals interrupted us:

"Mama!"

My reaction was instinctive, which was probably the only reason why I was ready, with arms wide open when the tiny dark-red haired, chocolate eyed, human-shaped missile slammed into me, small arms winding around my legs instantly.

"Lovely little love!" I cooed automatically.

"Mama!" She cried out again, smiling brightly at me. "Missed you mama!"

"You missed me?" I asked her with a bright smile. "I missed you too, sweetheart. I was on my way home, I promise."

"I not want to wait!" She said in a rush (her grammar still needed some work). "I missed mama and come see mama!"

"I'm glad you came to see me, darling." I assured her.

There was no need to ask about her papa, I sensed him before I actually saw him.

Luke appeared from around the corner right then, chuckling at our daughter's rush even as he reached us, kissing me quickly yet with a sense of longing, before pulling back. It was until then that I remembered Charles, as I sensed his discomfort (though whether it was at the PDA or the fact that I was quite sure he couldn't be able to properly read any of our minds I wasn't sure).

"Right!" I called brightly. "Charles, this is my family: my husband Luke, and our daughter Rose. This is Charles Xavier, he and I have Psychology together."

"Pleased to meet you." Luke nodded at him, offering a hand. "Professor Luke Serrure."

"Professor?" Charles repeated.

"Social Sciences Division." My love clarified. "I teach Cultural Studies."

"Oh..." He seemed to be absolutely speechless. "Charles Xavier. I'm studying to be a geneticist."

Luke nodded. I could guess from Charles's embarrassment that he probably feared Luke might go against him for flirting with his wife; though of course my love would never do that, he knew better than to bother with such things.

"Well, I'm afraid we must leave." Luke announced, turning to look at me briefly. "We have reservations for that Italian place you like and will miss them unless we hurry. Hakon has promised to pull himself away from his studies for one night and join us."

That was more than enough reason for me to drop anything and soon we were on our way. The picture of the little happy family...

xXx

That wasn't the last time we saw Charles, not by a long shot. We met several times over the next couple of months, mostly as we came and went from Psychology class, the library, and even a few times in some pub or bar (we only went to those when Hakon offered to watch over Rose for the night). At some point we also met his sister: Raven Xavier, who was taking a few classes (though nothing really formal), and working as a waitress. I liked her, even if I'd no idea what could have happened to her in the future... I didn't remember Professor X having a sister (and considering how much of a public figure he'd become in recent years, we'd have known of her). Still, I chose not to focus on that, after more than a decade since our initial time-travel we'd all become used to living 'in the present', whichever year that might mean.

A particular Saturday night in early November found us all in one of Charles's favorite bars. It was someone's birthday, and as both Charles and I shared classes with him (if different ones), we'd both been invited. I hadn't been so sure about it at first, but Hakon had insisted that Luke and I should go out (we'd been so busy with midterms and hadn't gone on dates recently). I was being careful with my drinks, while my love didn't have such care (he knew it was unlikely he'd ever get drunk on Midgardian wine and ale).

Charles was involved in some drinking game with some of the other students, while Raven and I had joined a group of girls focused on gossiping (I wasn't saying much, actually, mostly listening to them). At some point Raven left for the bathroom, she took a bit longer to come back than expected, though that wasn't exactly uncommon so I didn't pay much attention to it, until I noticed something was off with her attire. It took me a few seconds, but eventually I realized what it was: before going to the bathroom Raven had been wearing a short-sleeved circular skirt dress with rose floral print over black fabric, the collar and inch-wide trim on the sleeves was black as well, no belt. In that moment she was wearing pretty much the same dress, except with no collar, no trim and sleeves that almost reached her elbows. I also suspected her hair might be an inch or so shorter than it had been, but with her thick blonde curls I couldn't be quite sure.

As discreetly as I could I approached her, pretending to be busy laughing at some joke one of the other gals had just old (Jenna? Jemma?) taking a sip of my drink as I got close enough to whisper in her ear:

"Raven, I think you need to fix your clothes." I told her quietly. "While most people here are quite drunk, some still remain sober enough they might notice sooner or later, and I really don't think that would be a good thing."

Blue eyes, that shifted into liquid gold for a fraction of a second, stared straight at me briefly. I could see the shock, the slight fear.

"I don't mean you any harm," I tried to reassure her. "I don't know what it is you can do, or how you do it. But unless you can explain how you lost your collar and your dress's sleeves got longer in the last ten minutes, you should really hurry before someone else notices."

There was a slight blue-tinted shimmer and in a second she was back to how she'd looked before going to the bathroom.

"Perfect." I nodded at her.

I looked away from her, only to find Charles suddenly standing right there; and while I was sure that he'd been on the way to a drunken stupor just five minutes earlier, right then he looked perfectly sober, and even a bit somber. I also didn't miss the moment he got into my head.

"Stop doing that." I hissed quietly at him, mentally pushing him out.

"So I was right." He sounded half-nervous, half-awed. "You do know when I read your mind. And you just pushed me out, how did you do that anyway?"

"Don't you know that a mind is private?" I chastised him, ignoring his questions altogether. "I mean, I understand you reading surface thoughts. It's part of your nature, part of who you are, you not reading them would be like asking someone to blindfold themselves, or block their ears and go around like that. But it's a whole different thing for you to pick up on whatever I happen to be thinking about in that moment, and to try and delve deeper, into my secret thoughts, my memories. That is a violation of privacy I will not allow."

Charles didn't say a word, just stared at me, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking right then. The look he was giving me was so odd!

"Charlie!" Another young man called, throwing his arm around Charles shoulder. "Where did you go man! I had money on you winning that contest, and then you just walked away! And Kit won! Kit of all people! It's absolutely ridiculous..."

"I'm sorry Greg, I think the alcohol affected me more than I thought it would... I came over here to tell my sister I was leaving." Charles made up immediately.

"Oh man!" Greg cried out, he was evidently drunk himself. "But the night's still young..."

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll have as a great a time without me, as you will with me." Charles said dismissively. "I gotta go."

I wonder if he really didn't notice. The fact that most of the girls that had been circling their table all night had been there because of Charles, not Greg... then again, maybe he did know.

"I'm leaving too." Raven announced. "I think I have a headache..."

The looks both she and Charles were directing my way told me our little conversation wasn't over just yet, so I decided to take the opening they'd given me.

"If you give me a second I can call Luke and we'll go with you." I offered. "Charles has drunk quite enough tonight, and with Raven's headache it might not be a good idea for the two of you to go on your own."

"Of course..." Raven began.

"I'm right here." Luke announced, offering me my jacket even as he finished putting his on.

We left the uni-bar together. Not a word was said until we reached our building (because, as it happened, we lived in the same building; our flat was on the second floor, while theirs was on the top one), a few blocks from Oxford.

"Lets talk then." Raven announced the moment we were in their flat.

I didn't say anything at first, neither did Luke, we just sat in the Xavier's living room, waiting for their opening:

"You know what I can do... what we can do." Charles said eventually.

"Yes." I didn't bother trying to deny it.

"How do you know?" Raven asked.

"How long?" Charles inquired at the same time.

"I have good observational skills." I answered Raven first (and I had to admit, if only to myself, that it'd been a huge shock to realize who exactly Raven Xavier would become in the future: the lieutenant of the Brotherhood of Mutants: Mystique), then turned to Charles. "With Raven it took several outings, but it was there. Details in her attire would change through the evening, most of the time they were minor, unnoticeable to anyone else: things like a slightly darker or lighter shade in color, slightly longer or shorter skirts and sleeves, same with her hair, or the colors of her makeup. Like I said before, nothing extraordinary, but it was there, I have a good eye. As for you," I fixed my eyes on him. "I've had an idea of what you can do from the first time we met. From the very first time you tried to get into my head."

"How do you do that?" He wanted to know. "How do you feel me?"

"Who knows?" Even in the future we'd never known. "I guess I just have a very good awareness of myself."

"I've been curious for months!" He admitted. "I could never get past your walls, I can never see into the shadows of Luke's mind and Rose..."

"You tried to read our daughter's mind?!" It was the first time Luke had spoken since our arrival, but he really didn't like that.

"Well, surface thoughts and the like... I can't really help that part, unless I try really hard and..." Charles began babbling.

"And that's hard for you." I finished for him. "It probably hurts you even, trying to hold yourself back, going against your nature..."

"It's discomfiting." Was all he was willing to admit.

By the expression in Raven's face I could tell she hadn't known that. I chose not to focus on that.

"What about Rosie's mind?" I insisted.

"Chaos." He seemed like he'd tried to find a better word, and in the end he couldn't. "Even her surface thoughts. I don't know if it's because she's thinking many things at the same time, if it's some kind of natural shielding, perhaps part of her power... It's not like there's nothing there, there is, a lot, so much that it's absolutely chaotic... I have a feeling that no one but she truly understands what goes on in her head at any given time."

I couldn't help it, I began giggling. We probably should have expected something like that from the daughter of Loki... a child of chaos indeed.

"So, you know about what we can do, what we are..." Raven seemed to want to clarify things. "What can you do?"

Luke and I turned to look at each other, we didn't need to say a word, not even inside our bond, before deciding what we'd say:

"Not much." I spoke first, looking straight at her. "I know you're nervous. You want to be excited, but there's a part of you that's insecure, possibly even afraid of what we might do..."

"You're an empath..." Charles was the first to realize what it all meant. "How long since you first manifested, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Couldn't tell you." I shrugged. "Almost my whole life I've been able to tell how others feel. At first it was general, and there might have been times when I was wrong, but I kept getting better. I didn't actually realize there was anything extraordinary about what I was doing until much, much later. I've known about the existence of the... supernatural, so-to-speak, since I was eleven, though I suspected even before that. It was until I met Luke that I realized the truth though; both about myself and him."

I was taking liberties, of course, keeping a lot of our story secret, but I had no intention of explaining it all to him, to either of them, our true origins. The last thing we needed was to end up involved in the kind of messes the X-Men would be... it would be too risky, especially as time passed and we got closer to our time, to our past-selves.

"Just how old are you?" Raven blurted out unexpectedly.

I couldn't help myself, I laughed.

"Older than I look." I told her eventually. "I won't tell you my exact age, it's not important. I will tell you this, though, Rose isn't my only child, nor my eldest."

Again, there was no reason to explain the details. They might meet Hakon one day, and they'd then believe him to be my eldest; he called me mama, and looked enough like Luke... and it was unlikely they'd be meeting Helena any time soon. So that would have to be enough.

"And you?" Charles chose to focus his attention on my husband next.

My love didn't answer him, not verbally, Instead he waved a hand at the bottle of beer in Raven's hand, it went cold instantly, and some frost appeared near the top of the liquid.

"Hope you don't mind your beer a bit chilled." He said for all explanation.

Raven didn't wait, she took a swig of it, letting out a satisfied breath afterwards.

"Awesome." She announced.

"You control the cold." Charles muttered, seemingly trying and failing to find a single word to describe the power, like he'd done with me.

"Much like cryokinesis, yes." Luke gave him the word he was looking for.

"And Rose?" Raven was really intrigued by that point.

"Who knows?" I answered honestly. "She hasn't manifested yet."

"With both of you being gifted I have no doubt her own will be magnificent." Charles offered.

"Even if she turned out to be perfectly normal, we wouldn't care." I said honestly. "Rose is our daughter, and we'll love her no matter what."

Raven looked at me with the oddest expression, as if she were trying to make up her mind between challenging that statement, and asking me something. And then... she rippled, much like when she'd fixed her dress in the bar, except on a much bigger scale. The dress disappeared completely, all her clothes did, her hair, and even her pink unblemished skin, leaving behind blue, somewhat scaly skin, shoulder-length straight red hair and golden eyes.

"Wow..." I breathed out, unable to help myself. "You look amazing."

"You really believe that?" She whispered.

In that moment I wasn't hearing the strong-headed, sassy young woman I'd known for over two months... but instead a scared little-girl. I couldn't help it, my mothering instincts were just too strong; before I realized what was going on I'd moved to her couch and was holding her tightly in my arms.

"You're beautiful Raven..." I whispered into her hair. "Beautiful and exotic, like the fae of old..."

Luke and Charles didn't say a word, they just sat there, in silence, letting us have our moment.

And so began a friendship that would last for decades... even if we didn't know it then. It was also a friendship that would leave none of us unchanged...

xXx

In Summer of 1954, we as a family decided to spend our school-break traveling through Eastern Europe. We'd visited over half the countries in Western Europe before and were looking for something new; and while there was still war in some of those countries, we didn't think it'd be too hard to avoid trouble (were we wrong!). In early July we were staying in a rented cottage in Istanbul, enjoying the new and exotic sights all around us. Rose seemed particularly excited by the newness of everything.

Three days after first arriving to the cottage, we were woken in the middle of the night by a shrill scream. We didn't think about it, in seconds Luke and I had thrown the first clothes we found on and had practically teleported from our bedroom to our daughter's, for she was the one screaming. There was an odd illumination in the room, a number of candles had been lighted up at some point and were casting an eerie glow around the room, and particularly on our little girl.

"Rosie?" I called, sitting on the bed beside her and extending my arms to her.

In an instant she had thrown herself into my arms, face buried into my chest, I could feel her tears on my skin; but more than that, I could feel her pain, her sadness, and something more I couldn't quite name...

"Sweetheart?" I called very softly. "Are you alright?"

For the longest time Rose did nothing except cry, and every sob, every hiccup was like a stab into my heart. How could my little girl be suffering so and me unable to help her? I didn't even know what was going on!

"We have to save her!" She cried out eventually. "We have to save her, or she's gonna die!"

"Who's gonna die?" Hakon, standing on the door, bleary eyed, asked abruptly. "Little sis..."

"Willow!" Rose cried out.

"Who's Willow?" Hakon asked next, approaching the opposite side of the bed slowly.

"She's my little sister... but she doesn't know it yet." Rose answered quietly.

For a moment I felt lost. I wasn't pregnant, I was quite sure of that. I also knew, instinctively, that it was unlikely I'd ever again have a child of my own flesh and blood, not after Rose. Her birth had been hard on me, and after the damage the Cancer had caused (even if I'd technically died and come back to life, some of that damage had remained, like a stain on my soul)... the doctors had warned me of the unlikelihood of it happening, and while most of the time I wasn't one for believing everything doctors told me (they also told me I'd die when I was fourteen... it's hard to believe everything when you have a god on your side...), deep down I knew that, at least on that particular instance, they were right. At the same time, hadn't I always said that Hakon was my son and would always be, regardless of who might have given birth to him.

"Where can we find Willow?" I asked her softly. "And how can we save her?"

"Her name's not Willow yet..." Rose murmured, she seemed a bit thoughtful before adding. "Her papa calls her chikni..."

Everyone turned to look at me instantly. Knowing I was the one to know the most languages (while my love knew many old ones, he hadn't visited Midgard much in recent centuries; and even after he began visiting again, his interest hadn't laid in learning new languages).

"That's Romany." I told them. "I remember some of the prisoners we rescued during the war speaking the language, it's what the gypsies speak. I think that word means: daughter..."

I hadn't actually learnt much Romany beyond the basics, there simply hadn't been any time, the same had happened with Yiddish. I'd learnt enough from the people around me to be able to help them some, but not much more.

"So, we're supposed to rescue a girl?" Hakon tried to put the pieces together. "A girl who has a father too. From who or what exactly?"

"Fire!" Rose cried out abruptly.

I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but for a second the candles around the room seemed to burn brighter and even hotter.

"We need to save her Mama!" She cried out to me. "We need to save Willow! She'll burn!"

I couldn't process it, I really couldn't, the idea of a child burning to death... it's not like I didn't know such things had happened before, and probably would again, but still. How could I possibly learn of it and not do something to stop it from happening.

"We need to go!" Rose seemed to be getting hysterical again. "We need to go now! Mama! Papa! Hakon! We need to save Willow!"

Before we could stop her she was rushing to her closet, looking for clothes. The rest of us went to leave the bedroom, trying to make up our minds.

"Are we actually believing all this?" Hakon asked us bluntly.

"Sounds insane... but it's not actually impossible." I pointed out.

"So you think she's... what? A seer?" Hakon obviously had a hard time grasping the idea.

"It's quite possible." I nodded. "Lady Frigg is one... and Naneth was as well... my mother in my other life, I mean." I let out a breath. "We all know that Rose ha inherited Ljósálfar traits, more than even I possess right now. Why not the Sight as well?"

"But she's just five!" Hakon tried to insist.

"I've been feeling other people's emotions for as long as I can remember." I pointed out. "I may not have always known what it meant, or that not everyone could do it, but it was there."

"So... we're going to go out, drive who-knows-where and hope we find this Willow before something happens to her?" Hakon inquired.

Not something, Rose had been quite specific, she'd seen a fire... still, I could see why my son would rather not think about that part.

"That's exactly what we're going to do." My love agreed.

In a matter of minutes we were all dressed and climbing into the car. I'd taken a moment to pack some food for the road. We'd no way of knowing how far we might have to drive, how long it might take us to get there. All we had to go on was Rose's dream and her sense of urgency (and our own, a child's life was in danger, we needed to get there in time...), that would have to be enough. We'd no idea what was yet to come.

xXx

Luke drove, following our daughter's instructions. She didn't say much, only telling him to take a turn here or there whenever it was necessary. We'd no idea where we were going, yet we both trusted our daughter enough to believe that she'd get us to where we needed to be. We drove through the northern side of Turkey, Eastern Bulgaria, Romania and the South area of Moldova, before eventually getting to South Ukraine, just past a town called Odessa. We'd been driving for almost seventeen hours (just stopping briefly for bathroom breaks and to buy some food and gas a couple of times), when I sensed a change.

"Daro (Stop)!" The word was out of my mind before I could even think about it; I didn't even notice at first that I hadn't spoken in English, but in elvish.

"What is it?" Luke asked, immediately staring at me, he knew that my instinctive choice of language was important, somehow.

"I don't think it's a good idea to continue by car." I wasn't quite sure how I knew that, I just did. "There is a great power touching the earth beneath us... it might be safer for us all to continue on foot for now."

I knew that was nowhere near a proper explanation, but it was the best I had for the time being. Even I didn't know what power I was feeling exactly, only that it was reaching deep into the earth and it had the potential for being extraordinarily dangerous (it also reminded me of Charles, for some reason I couldn't comprehend...).

The moment we were all out of the car, Rose began running, a single word leaving her lips as she went, the only explanation:

"Phey!" Sister... she was calling someone sister, possibly the girl Willow...

We didn't stop to think about it, the rest of us ran after her. It was absolutely insane. I knew that any normal parent would have been calling for their daughter to stop running, to go back to them, would chastise them for trying to go on their own, tell them never to do it again... but we weren't normal parents, and neither was Rose a normal child. So we didn't try to stop her, we just ran after her as fast as we could.

I realized then just how much Rose had inherited of the Ljósálfar, her body might be on the small side, like mine, but she wasn't as dense as humans, she was lithe, agile, and very, very fast (just looking at her brought very old memories to the forefront of my mind, of myself, running through the forests in Alfheim, fleeing from the palace and straight to my sanctuary).

We'd almost reached the end of the forested area, when Hakon and I picked up on something almost at the same time.

"Hey," He was the first to speak up. "Does anyone else smell smoke?"

"There's something burning up ahead." Luke nodded grimly.

As if that were some kind of cue, Rose seemed to find strength inside her, enough to go even faster than before. She crossed the tree-line several feet ahead of us, and there, just a few more yards away, we could all see black smoke coming from a building.

"That looks like a hostel..." Hakon commented, trying to sound casual, yet failing.

We all suspected what that meant, and it was nothing good.

I was the last to cross the tree-line, and the moment I did I almost collapsed at the rush of dark feelings that hit me: fear, anger, hate, terror, horror, fury, loathing... they were all there, like a dark blend that threatened to drown me. And it would have, if I hadn't suddenly felt my match's presence right there with me. He managed to ground me just in time, and I used our bond to pull myself back to reality.

By the time we reached Hakon on the street just behind the hostel things seemed to be completely out of control. There was shouting in a mix of Russian and another language I did not know (I guessed it must be Ukrainian). Windows shattered on the top floor of the hostel and pieces of glass rained down. I could distinguish a female voice screaming... not in any of the other two language... no, she was speaking in Romany, a rush of words I couldn't fully pick out, but I instinctively knew she was calling to someone inside the building... might she be the girl's mother? And as that question entered my mind, I became aware of something else.

"Rose!" I cried out. "Where is Rose?!"

What kind of mother was I, that I completely missed the fact that my daughter wasn't standing right there, as she should be.

"Inside." Hakon answered grimly. "I tried to follow..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to either, both his father and I could see the burns on his arm. Being jotun, or at least half one, things like heat and fire affected it more than it did most people. It was likely that just the hot air, the smoke had bother him a lot... and yet he'd still tried to go after Rose.

"Mama..." He called me right then. "I know this might not seem like enough but... the fire didn't hurt her..." He let out a breath. "I saw Rose go into the hostel, saw her step into the fire, and it did not affect her; I can almost believe it didn't actually touch her."

An image flashed in the back of my head, put there not by myself, but by my love: the candles in Rose's bedroom in cottage, earlier that same day... and the knowledge that none of us had lighted them at any point...

Before anything else could be said, the backdoor into the hostel slammed open and two figures stepped out. It was Rose, in her off-white shirt and kaki pants; and she was holding a pale, red-haired, brown-eyed girl in a pale-yellow worn-out dress, about her same age. The redheaded girl's clothes look a little singed, same as a side of her hair.

"Oh Rosie!" I cried out, rushing to her.

"Mama!" Rose called. "Help Willow please! She's hurt!"

She was indeed, as we soon found out. The little girl: Willow, had burns on the left side of her face, near her ear and hairline, and a more serious one down her neck and reaching to her shoulder, where the sleeve of her dress seemed to have been almost completely burnt. I couldn't even imagine what that meant; what would have happened to the little girl if my beautiful, brave Rose hadn't gone inside. I'd also noticed the same thing Hakon had mentioned, as the two girls stepped out of the burning hostel (the flames having finally reached the ground-floor), fire was all around them, but it didn't quite touch either of them. That also brought yet another memory to me, of the visions I'd had the night before giving birth to Rose: the two girls holding hands, surrounded by scarlet flames...

I pushed all that aside instantly as I dropped to my knees beside them. The burns looked bad and I couldn't believe how Willow wasn't crying; there were tears in her eyes, but not a single sound escaped her, and then I saw how tightly she was holding onto Rose. Somehow she was drawing strength from my daughter...

Slowly, very carefully, so as not to hurt her further, I raised a hand to Willow's face; she flinched very slightly, but Rose whispered something to her in broken Romany (my daughter had been pouring over a dictionary that we'd bought on the way there, memorizing words and phrases she thought, or perhaps knew, she would need). Willow settled then, allowing me to touch the very tips of my fingers very slightly to her burns. Healing magic came easy to me, always had, from the very first time I'd used it (in both lives) back when I hadn't known such a use of magic was possible (and neither had I known it wasn't supposed to be possible, which was probably the most important part).

I did my best to undo the hurt, and the damage, and yet there was too much of it, and as Eir (Goddess of Healing) had explained to me once, there's only so much physical trauma we can heal before the body resents it; it might even go into shock if we cross that line. So I knew there would be scars left, which Willow would have to bear for the rest of her life... at least she was alive, and no longer in pain, that had to count for something right?

I was about to say something else, when we all felt it. The power that had been simmering until then lashed out. It was as if something in the world snapped. I could practically feel the power, like the echo of an explosion, coming our way.

*Get us out of here!* I mind-screamed at my beloved.

In an instant he had a hand on me and Rose, while we were both holding onto Willow, Hakon had barely touched his father, and then we were all gone.

We reappeared right beside the car, right on time to watch flocks of birds fly away in a hurry, as if fleeing from something. The very earth seemed to shift beneath our feet.

"That was no earthquake." Hakon commented, letting go.

"No, it wasn't." I agreed, what I didn't say was: It was much, much worse.

I had no idea what had just happened, none of us did, we just knew it was bad.

We drove to Odessa, it was all we could do for the time being. Willow was still with us, the little girl was traumatized and wouldn't speak to anyone except Rose; we also had no idea what had happened in that little town exactly, what had become of her parents? Why had she been in that hostel when it caught on fire? And why had no one else gone inside to get her? People had been outside, a woman had been calling, probably for her, so why hadn't anyone else rescued her? It was obvious we were missing something, probably something huge, but we had no idea what.

That evening, after the girls had settled, sharing a bed in the little suite we were all sharing (after the events earlier on the day we didn't want to be apart), Hakon and Luke decided to go back to the little town, see if they could find Willow's family, maybe even discover what had happened. The news they brought upon their return were worse than anything I could have been expecting:

"The whole town was leveled." Hakon informed me. "There was nothing but rubble and vague foundations left anywhere. Some kind of power just... destroyed everything."

"And the people?" I dared ask, though I knew already the answer wouldn't be anything good.

"Dead." Luke nodded grimly. "Everyone's dead, their bodies strewn over the town, some had their throats slashed, or their heads bludgeoned... others were worse than that..."

"I'm so glad you didn't see that mama..." Hakon offered. "It was awful."

What he didn't know was that I'd probably end up seeing it, sooner or later, in my husband's memories; that, and I had seen many things, some that bad, some even worse, during the war.

"And Willow?" I asked next.

"We could find anything." Luke admitted. "Whoever she might be, whoever her parents might be... we don't know. They might have escaped the disaster, or they might have died..."

Or they might have been the ones to cause all the horror... We both knew that was as much a possibility as the other two.

"What do we do now?" Hakon wanted to know.

"That will be up to Willow..." I offered.

Luke nodded, I knew he agreed wholeheartedly; if she wanted to, a new member would be joining our family.

xXx

The next morning we took the ferry back to Istanbul. We would be making about the same time it'd taken us to get to Odessa, but at least we wouldn't have to drive the whole time. We boarded that ferry, all five of us: Hakon, Luke, myself, Rose and the newly renamed Willow Anya Serrure. According to what she'd told us earlier that day, her birth-name was Anya, she'd lived in the hostel with her dai (mama), who washed and sew clothes, and her (dadro) papa, who worked in a mine. She didn't know who'd started the fire, or why; apparently her mother had been the one screaming, trying to get inside, but people wouldn't let her for some reason. Her father had been screaming too, fighting the people around him. Anya had no idea what the fight had been about exactly. She also told us something about a 'magic-trick' her dad could do, but she didn't seem to be able to find the right words to explain it (the fact that only Rose and I knew any Romany, and it was very limited, made things harder too).

In the end she agreed on joining our family, though only after we promised that we'd help her find out what had happened to her parents, and that she'd be allowed to meet with them if we ever did find them alive; I just hoped she wouldn't be abandoning us eventually if/when that happened. The fact that Rose kept calling her sister, and so sure of it too, told me that Anya... Willow, would be part of our family for many years to come... possibly for the rest of our lives.

We were back in our cottage by the evening. We'd made a list, of the things we'd have to do, mainly the fact that we needed to go shopping for everything Willow would be needing... and we needed to find someone who might help us get her papers (magic could only do so much). We were also planning on returning to London sooner rather than later, so she might have time to settle into her new life before the new school-year began (good thing I was still planning on home-schooling them both). A part of me wondered what some of our friends might have to say about the new member of our family...

"Mama, mama!" Rose called as we put them to bed (Anya in a nightgown Rose lent her), once again both in the same bed. "Sing us a song, please...?"

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly, Rose knew I could hardly ever tell her no. So, with that, I got comfortable on the side of the bed, placing my hands over them, as I closed my eyes and began singing, quietly, allowing a Celtic accent to change my voice just slightly:

"Rest tired eyes a while
Sweet is thy baby's smile
Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee"

"Sleep, sleep, grah mo chree *
Here on you mamma's knee
Angels are guarding
And they watch o'er thee."

As I sang the old cradle song to my little girls (and I still could hardly believe it, I had a new daughter, a new baby girl...), I couldn't help but call upon some of the oldest memories I had of my current life, vague memories of my own mother: Aislinn Caoimhe Kinross-Salani, singing that very song to me as I lay in her arms, or my crib. It'd been her favorite song, one her own mother had sung to her during her infancy, back for more generations than I could probably count. It was an important part of our Irish heritage (hence the endearments and the accent).

"The birdeens sing a fluting song
They sing to thee the whole day long
Wee fairies dance o'er hill and dale
For very love of thee"

"Dream, dream, grah mo chree
Here on your Mamma's knee
Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee
As you sleep may Angels watch over
And may they guard o'er thee."

I didn't need to turn around to know my match and my son were both standing at the door, watching the scene, listening to me sing. My Maverick had always loved listening to my songs, and I knew the whole thing probably brought memories to Hakon as well; after all, I'd sung that song for him too, during the first years after he'd joined our family (and until the day he decided he was a 'big boy' and didn't need his mama to tuck him in bed anymore... though he still got advantage of every opportunity he had to hear me sing, or even just play an instrument for him).

"The primrose in the sheltered nook
The crystal stream the babbling brook
All these things God's hands have made
For very love of thee"

"Twilight and shadows fall
Peace to His children all
Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee
As you sleep
May Angels watch over and May the guard o'er thee."

Rose and Willow were deeply asleep by the time the song reached its end. I smiled before placing feather-light kisses on their brows. The two men in my life followed before we all left the girls' room to go back to our own. Even then I knew, without a doubt, that we'd all be getting up during the night (possibly more than once) to go look in on them, make sure they were alright. Those were our little girls, and we'd always do our best to look after them, protect them, love them...

So, what do you think? How insane am I? Yeah... I can guess the answer already. I still hope you liked the chapter. And what's to come...

Next chapter will go into the consequences of what's happened here, and will finish laying the groundwork for a little something I'm cooking up... and no, I'm not telling you what it is. It's a surprise, you'll find out next week.

See ya! (Please don't forget to review... I love knowing what you all think of my word).