A Long day and a Tough night

It had been one long day.
He couldn't recall a longer one in all his years, still he would never say that it hadn’t been worth it, nor that he hadn’t enjoyed it.

As the sun began its descent at long last,  night’s darkness crept slowly towards the places it had long been denied. His rolling gait took him by the roads away from the Rath of Eclmar and on across the country towards the West.

In the crook of his great arm rested the bundle, and swaddled within it the child. Such a small pudgy thing, all pale skin and softness. As he looked down where it slept, held close to his bodies heat, he saw the face scrunch up in momentary discomfort. The returned warmth of the fart was accompanied a smell of mothers milk, pungent in the Dagda’s nostrils.

“That’s my boy.”

The Big Chieftain always kept his best smiles for his children, for they always seemed to bring forward the best in Him, yet this time the smile slipped as the memories came.

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The Rath was warmed with hearth fire and the comfort of private intimacy. The table was set and the pieces had seen many moves, some decisive and swift others thoughtful and measured. Once again it seemed that the play had come to a stalemate, but the pieces had been long forgotten now as both sat considering the last words spoken in the space.

“Are you sure it’s necessary?”

His rumbling words came as softly and measured as his moves had been.

“You know as well as I that the ways of fate are fraught with changing winds, dear heart, but in this there is surety. The child will bring much to our tribe and in time come to your aid where no other could. They will be a unique force of unequaled vigor. There is only one choice.”

Her words delivered with as much softness as there ever was to her, she picked up a piece from the board and sat back in her chair, caressing it almost absent mindedly.

“There must be concessions.”

Her eyebrow rose at this but reading his tone she remained silent.

“First, there must be unswayed consent. On this there can be no ambiguity or hesitancy.”

Her smile was genuine and pleased as once again her husband’s first considerations did him credit, though He never could understand how rare that was.

“Agreed.”

He nodded reflexively as if his motions were absent his mind’s awareness, such was the focus of his thoughts.

“Second, the matter is to be completed in one day. The sun will stay its course to allow the natural growth and birth of the child within the womb of Boann, but no others outside will know of the deed for the safety of her body and her honour.”

Her brows lowered at this demand. Though the ability was not beyond them, the impact to the great cycle, not to mention her own plans, could be significant and far reaching. Her sharp eyes watched him closely to read his intent. So much concern for this other woman.

“Agreed, but on the condition that the impact is yours to manage and that the same boon be offered me should I call upon it.”

This time his nod was mind full as his dark eyed gaze met hers, accepting the responsibility.

“Now I have a concession of my own before the matter is closed.”

He kept his gaze locked to hers and waited patiently.

“The child is to be brought to me as the sun renews its course and moves to set. There I shall trace the paths of fate again so we may know the best course.”

The Chieftain took in a deep breath to speak but she interrupted Him with a raised finger.

“What the weave of fate decrees, you will abide by.”

She knew his heart, knew it as intimately as her own. Knew how big, broad and giving it is, and knew exactly what pains would be caused should her current view of the fate not alter by their next meeting. For all that he was a great and wise chieftain, a knowledgeable druid and powerful practitioner, for all of his grand strength and skill, his love of family was both his greatest power and yet his biggest weakness.

His brow furrowed and his gaze sharpened upon her but she was not one to be quelled even by the likes of Him. She remained impassive and resolute.

“Agreed.”

The intent of his gaze told her well that he was suspicious, and of course he would be as he was no fool, but the rumble tone of his voice gave his binding word to the matter.

The agreement struck and set, the matter was put aside as easily as a gust of smoke caught in a high wind. Both their eyes fell to the board and its pieces. The Morrigan sat forward returning the missing piece to its place as they both began to contemplate the stalemate again.

“You know, even though it’s going to pass in but a day, it will be almost a year long absence from my embrace and our bed. Did you really want to spend what time we have playing games?”

Her gaze fell upon him like a predator on her favoured prey and her eyebrow rose with the suggestion.

His rumbling chuckle was the only reply she received to her question as he moved to take her in his big arms and carry her off to bed, but definitely not to sleep.

*******************************

A few days later Eclmar journeyed out of his rath and off to the waters he tended. Every seven day before the rise of the sun he would set out and draw forth the wisdom of the well as the first rays of light touched its surface. Yet for all that wisdom may offer, on this day it was a lack of knowledge which would see the changes wrought within his house.

Boann had received the Dagda’s approach with enthusiastic consent and so she awaited him in her chambers as soon as her husband had departed.

As the sun's light first touched the island The Dagda called forth his power and with all the Will and authority which was his, he slowed the flow of light across the land.

Throughout this the longest day, Dagda stayed with Boann sharing a 9 month of partnered relationship. They spoke on every topic, shared and challenged ideals, swapped crafts and skills and engaged in many enthusiastic encounters not just between bed sheets, but in all other places imaginable.

Once the motherly changes were wrought upon her body as the child grew within her, Dagda stayed ever close to hand, nursing, caring and nurturing Boann, sharing in all of the trials as much as he was able and easing her burdens in whatever manner he could.

The child was born healthy and strong, with thankfully little discomfort to Boann. It seemed the the infant was possessed of a force of wilful intent as he arrived sooner than expected. Dagda was thankful for this as it gave time for Boann to nurse and know the child before the parting which they both knew would come at the end of their day.

And so the Dagda bid farewell to his wife of the 9 month day and taking the bundle safe and warm in hand set forth towards the setting sun.

*********************************************

Without prior agreement he knew where to find her. There were many places which they called theirs but there was only one for business such as this. The rush and gurgle of the river caught his ears long before his eyes fell upon it. Tucking the blanket close around the child against the river Unshin’s chill, the Dagda arrived at the ford.

With the sun in his face and night’s darkness following close behind him, he came to her where she stood across the waters, light surrounding her in its red gold flames.

She stood in robes of red flowing to the ground just above her bare white feet. Hair undone, mane stirring faintly with the breeze above the water, face marked with the colourings of her paint, not set for war, but set for great works none the less.

He had missed her there could be no doubt about that, but as he looked upon her here, arrayed as she was, he couldn't help recall their last meeting, a 9 month day ago. What had she not told him? What had she held back? It seemed now was the time of revelation.

Not missing a beat they both stepped forward, one foot at a time, matched stride and synchronicity until the waters of the ford washed about both their legs and they stood without touch in the middle of this space between.

“With earth and water below, fire and air above, I greet you husband.”

“In this space between where elements meet, I greet you wife.”

She had missed him, there could be no doubt about that. Though the day had continued for the rest of the world, She had known the passing of each true minute for what it was and though change had been slowed, it could never be stopped. Many things had been adjusted and altered in the passing of the longest day, but now she stood upon the moment she had foreseen and could not help but hope for the fate to have changed.

She held out her arm towards him.

“As agreed in days gone passed, I will look upon the child and see to their fate.”

Her eyes came up to meet those dark orbs of the Dagda looking to read in him his mood and intent. For all of her abilities to glimpse the weaves of fate’s design, his was the one thread she could never see clearly, the one force which she could not with any assurance predict. He was the most interesting, attractive and yet frustrating thing she had ever encountered.


She saw his brow furrow into a frown yet his gaze never left hers. There it was, the oh so subtle threat. That power coupled with the mystery of him ensured that he was the most dangerous thing in existence to her, as she was to him. A perfect balance of beloved nemesis.

She kept her breathing slow and steady refusing to draw her power about her in any visible way. This was his heart. The strength of the love he held for the child of his own flesh and the will to destroy any who would attempt harm upon those he considered His. She was His as well in the same way that he was hers, but she was under no illusions about his stance when it came to his children.

His arms came forward and present the bundle to her, oh so gentle for all of his huge muscled strength. She took the swaddled infant and turned it up to look upon its face. Round and with the pudgy jowls of a newborn, it’s eyes were yet to fully open to the world about it.

Easing her mind she looked to See the child for the first time in person.

Dagda stood as the waters about his legs began to lose the days heat. He watched closely as the Morrigan looked to See the fate of his child. No force in creation could move him from this spot. The time of truths was here.

Dearly he loved his partner, this mate, his equal, but he was no fool and also knew she was his greatest threat, the one against whom he could find no effective defence, even if he had wanted to. The power of endings.

Within his mind he replayed the conversation they had shared.

They will be a unique force of unequaled vigor. There is only one choice.

There I shall trace the paths of fate again so we may know the best course.

What the weave of fate decrees, you will abide by.

He waited as the sun at last disappeared and the day ended.

The Morrigan shuddered and closed her eyes, Dagda noted that her arms closed around the child and held him closer to her. He did not move. He waited.

She opened her eyes and and raised their green orbs to his.

“Chieftain of the tribes do you remember your oath given to me concerning this moment?”

Dagda’s mind raced along the paths of what could be considering the possible fate of his son. True his word was given and he would not break with that for honour sake, but what was honour when compared to the safety and well being of family? He couldn't help note the absence of the little bundle from the cradle of his arms and his eyes fell to where it rested in hers.

“Recall I do the words of my oath.”

“The child will grow in force and vigour and in time will aid you when no one else can. Yet the fate of his parentage must, for now, remain secret and so he is to be raised in fosterage within the house of Midir and as no child of yours may you claim him.”

Within his great broad chest the Dagda’s heart skipped and sank low within him. This child of his, this son, not to be his in name or in the raising. His shoulders slumped and face fell to look to the river and within three breaths the wetness of tears adorned his face. The Morrigan’s voice came to him softly and he knew she spoke to him from her own heart not the weave of fate.

“I’m sorry beloved dear heart, I know how this must pain you. I had hoped that the passage of the longest day might change this fate, but for the child to grow and become whom they must, then they need to be parted from father in the same manner as they are parted from mother. This is the balance of fate.”

Dagda’s tears joined the waters of the Unshin but he knew the words for truth. She had held back information from him, but now he saw that it was for the love she bore him that it had been done.

“Name the child, Chieftain.”

Raising his head, tears still flowing from his eyes, he looked into the Morrigan's now  blue orbs.

“You did that bit already my love.”

Dagda took a deep steadying breath and into the world about him he sent the name of his child.

“His name is Oengus Mac ind Og”

Two Chairs

The space was filled with silence.

There are many kinds of silence.

The type that comes once a person passes out of a space of extreme noise.

The terrified silence of prey when they sense the presence of a predator.

The near maddening silence of sensory deprivation.

The silence of the grave, all encompassing and definitive.

The kind of silence that exists comfortably between old friends who do not need to fill the space.

This silence was none of those, and in the odd ways of things, all of them.

The room was bright but comfortably spartan. The cold brightness of fluorescent lighting, not the warm brightness of a fire.

What items there were each filled a very specific purpose and had a very specific space, from the sheathed blades hanging by the door, the stack of cards upon a side table, to the dustpan and brush stacked neatly in the corner.

Two big arm chairs sat one beside the other their occupants gazing straight ahead each looking at that which only they could see.

Between them stood a sturdy handmade oak table on which rested two goblets of red wine beside the open bottle. Neither glass has yet been touched as both occupants knew that it was best to let red warm to the environment and ‘breath’ as the term would have it.

“Do you think it’s going to make a difference?”

The voice which entered the silence, almost as if it were truly part of it, was deep and resonant, thickly accented from the regions surrounding the Nile in the African continent. Soft and soothing to the ear there was no harsh or hardness to the sound of it.

As smoothly as it arrived it passed and the silence slipped back close around them again.

Though the question had been asked neither party was in a rush for the answer. Time was something they were both very keenly aware of, and at this point time was in abundance for them.

The reply when it came slipped like a shadowed whisper into the silence, though easily heard for the closeness of the two chairs.

“It’s time to change or die.”

Both parties never turned to look, each keeping watch over that which only they could perceive. Two hands extended to retrieve the goblets. One slim long fingered and pale skinned, the other broad thick fingered and ebony skinned.

All of a sudden the silence was shattered as surely as the door was. Both sent to splinters across the space as a huge shape barrelled in and reeled about.

“Wife! Beloved! Ye fine vixen ye, I’m home!”

The bellow was such that the silence fled from it like a startled hare.

The massive figure staggered around, reeling unsteadily, moving its broad head about bleary eyed searchingly.

“Ah. There you are an drinkin no less. Sure I’m glad I’m not the only one to be in their cups tonight.”

The bellowed laughter spooked the silence from where it had crept close to the door, sending it bounding away again.

“Who is the company ye have beloved?”

The figure reeled over to stand before the two chairs. Their smile became a might broader to see the occupant of the second chair.

The Big man brought one of his think fingers to his lips and gave an overly exaggerated wink implying he was about to engage in some unsubtle mischief.

“Lil Ani? Is that you? My goodness you’ve grown.”

Once the line was delivered the big man again spooked the silence by descending into a fit of tittering, which for a man his size was impressive indeed.

“No need to get up Lovermine, you see to your guest an I will away to our bed to await your pleasure.”

With a reeling spin that was part bow, part over balanced stumble the figure trundled away across the room. That is of course until they reached the detritus which had once been a door.

“Ah what’s this? What happened to the door? Don’t worry my love I will make you a new one and have it hung in the mornin.”

The figure looked back over their shoulder and suggestively grasped their crotch.

“Speaking of ‘hung’, I hope you won’t be too long away”

The tittering began again as the figure strode through another door and into a back room.

“Tee hee ‘long’ hee hee.”

The silence crept back into the room, slowly, nervously checking everywhere for the Big scary noisy.

The Morrigan smiled a small smile to herself and with a sigh gave a slight shake of her head.

“Was that some movie quote? I can never keep up with his pop culture references.”

Anubis gave a deep throated chuckle.

“Star Wars. One of the prequels. I know because it was almost the death of the franchise.”

The timid silence gave a start as both began to laugh heartily. It considered its options given its favor for the two in the chairs.

It eventually gave up and left as the Dagda began to snore from the back bedroom.

The Couple's Ford

The morning sunshine warmed him as he lay upon the grass.

Arriving in the moments before the dawn as he always had, the Dagda stripped off his clothes and waded out, waist deep, into the river's depth.

As the first rays of the sun's light were captured by the water, he raised it in the bowl of his cupped hands and poured it over his head and face.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly with every movement, he repeated the process again and again.

The Dagda cleansed his body, and with it his spirit. 

Standing in the shallows of the river's bank he gazed across to its opposite side. Assessing where the earth met the water, he marked his spot and with a large inhalation, dove below the river's shimmering surface.

Beneath the water's boundary the world was a different place.

A quieter, more fluid space. An area where one thing moved toward the next in a constant, never ending push and pull, measured in the space of a held breath.

Kicking his strong legs the Dagda reached for the bottom and dug his thick fingers into the earth beneath the water. Anchored there, he took his mark to the earth above the water and with a bend of his body, and a plant of his feet, he pulled.

As the near noon sun beat down upon the water, the Dagda rose with a gasp to fill his lungs again. 

It was done.

Clambering forward, he heaved his form up on to the shallows that now forded the river from one point to the other.

Lying on the earth with the water running over his body, air filling his lungs, skin drying in the warmth of the sun's fire... the Dagda rested. Eyes closing and breathing deepening, sleep took him.

With a snort and a shudder he sat upright, mind returning from dream to his body.

Squinting, he looked to the sun’s position. An hour had past at the most. Noon.

Still, she would be here soon.

Looking about for a suitable place, his eyes fell upon some heavy brush not far up the opposite bank.

Returning to his discarded Léine and other clothes, he gathered them up, scuffed his feet through the flattened grass to make it stand, and crossed the river using its new ford.

Moving to the brush he circled around it and finding a suitable spot, crawled beneath its cover.

Wriggling forward on his gut, the Dagda gained a view of the ford, and settled to wait.

She would be here soon.

The heat of the sun at its highest was a need to warm her.

The flow of the water, clean and clear to wash her.

Her eye, which always sees the ways of change in every glance, will be drawn to this place where the land itself was changed.

The Dagda knew all of these things when he chose a space for their coupling.  

It was not long before a shadow flickered by above and the crows' call announced her approaching presence.

The Dagda relaxed his body and made his mind still, imagining himself as small as he could.

Letting go of his intent he allowed his eyes to see all that was there, foregoing thought, judgement or decision for the sake of the moment.

A difficult skill to master, being omnipresent, with no thought of self nor worry for the cares of tomorrow, with no part of the mind returning to the vaults of memory.

Dissipating his Will, the Dagda ceased to be, and became only a pair of eyes observing a moment.

Into that moment she came.

The Morrigan, cloaked in the colours of Autumn. The hues of orange, yellow and red. Her hair falling from her head in a crimson cascade. Skin with the clean healthy pallor of a fresh snowfall. Lips as red as heart's blood. Eyes of the deepest blue skies, surveying all around her.

Stepping lightly to the water's edge she stopped and cast her gaze about. Her Will rolled out across the space - seeking, searching. Only one who knew her well would have seen the slightest of frowns move her brows a fraction.

The land was changed. His hand had made it so. This she knew. Their meeting and coupling here, where earth meets water, in the surroundings of air and fire, was more than mating. 

This was their personal moment of balance. Service offered and given. The exchange that would speak to the next years course.

Every year this ritual was met and the requirements satisfied, and yet every year she could not find him before the right moment. As if he did not exist until the ritual needed him to. Never would she say, but it annoyed and vexed her to so lose track of him.

Slipping her arms from her garment she let it fall to the green of the grass. Time approached and though she could not find him, she did not doubt his presence.

Her face took on a smile at her surety. He always liked to watch.

Stepping lightly, she moved forward upon the balls of her feet, her strong legs taking her naked body out into the waters of the ford. She moved her warrior's physique with a dancer's grace. Lithe muscles moving sinuously, alluring and yet deadly.

 As the sun reached its highest, giving its warmth to her flesh, she stopped in the middle of the river. There she bent to raise water with her hands. Lifting it to her face she sipped of it, and then poured it down her head and body. Turning about she repeated this in the four directions.

The Morrigan cleansed her body, and with it her spirit.

With this done, she came about again, offering the four points of the land the four elements, filling each movement with her Will. Water of the river. Earth of the ford. Air of the winds. Fire of the sun.

Her will gathered in across the land and from that moment, all was in readiness. She cast her gaze about in one last effort to find him, but knew that he would only exist once the call was placed upon him.

Come you then, O Chieftain of the people.
Come you hither in service and in seeking.  

fís agus eolas
I call you and by your name be made present.
Dagda!

Her voice rang out its clarion call, taking her Will with it in all directions at once.

The eyes that had watched blinked.

The word had been spoken and settled upon him like a mantle - full of power, purpose and responsibility.

Muscles in the body twitched, as that which had until that moment been just part of the land became separate again. Big callused hands placed down upon the earth supported the push of strong arms connected to broad shoulders.

The body moved as a Will filled it once again and the Dagda rose up from the brush to face her.

In the moment his name had left her lips she had felt him. So named, his Will could not be hidden. She was facing the brush as she heard the first rustling of his movement. Seeing his broad shouldered body lift up, as if out of the earth itself, always gave her pause, yet no sign of it did show upon her face.

He moved with a steady grace for one of his size, unhurried and patient. His big naked full frame, covered in ruddy bronzed skin from a life of labour outdoors. Slab like muscles defined on his shoulders, arms, legs and chest with a heaviness about his waist which spoke of wealth and comfort.

His hair hung down about his broad face, features lined and careworn where they ran down to his close cropped beard. The eyes that met her gaze were the rich dark of the fresh turned earth, deep and steady.

“I am here Lady, on behalf of the people I answer the call.
fís agus eolas

I seek so best to offer them service.”

“And what, Chieftain, do you offer in exchange? 
All know that with knowledge comes power, and with power comes responsibility.”

The deepest blue of her eyes locked to his brown as their Wills met in full at that moment. Push and pull in the water's course. Shift and steady in the earth beneath. To and fro in the gusts of air. Hot and cold in the fire's heart. They challenged. Each testing the other's worth. Pushing their full power and focused Will against their opposite.

As the challenge reached its apex, match for match, equal to equal, he let go, allowing her Will to surround and take him. Sinking to a knee in the ford he lowered his gaze from her and hung his head in submission.

“In this moment and upon this ford, I offer all that I have, 
which is all that I am. 
For the vision and knowledge to best serve my people 
from this moment on until next we meet upon the boundaries between all things. "

Moving forward through the water, she approached. Stepping in front of him, standing above his big kneeling form, she placed her hand upon his head resting it there for a moment, allowing time for this act to settle within him.

In a sudden movement, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and painfully yanked his head back, face meeting hers, eyes locking again as she sought any resistance within his gaze. Deep in the brown of his eyes she saw the pain she caused him register, but no resistance came.

Using her other hand she gripped his throat, fingers tight and claw like, ready to rip the life from him, nails biting deep enough to draw a trickle of his blood. In those eyes she saw his willingness. His life was hers to take should she wish it, and he would not resist.

Total and complete submission. His perfect sacrifice.

Pushing him over upon his back in the cool waters of the ford she loosed her grip on his throat. Pressing her body down upon his big frame she brought her lips close to his ear and whispered in a husky tone.

“Tell me you want this.”

His reply was calm and filled with deep rumbling truth.

“I want this, Lady.”

Her smile was triumphant as she clamped her lips around the wound in his throat, sucking to draw a bruise to his flesh and the taste of his blood to her mouth. With her hand she took the tumescent girth of him, and with firm grip pressed him deep within her, filling her completely and stretching her with a pleasant pain.

She owned him. Fully consenting to her whims and wants he was hers to take, and take him she did. As the afternoon wore on she used him. Taking gratification in body, satisfaction in his strength and stamina. Feeding her wants again and again.

As the evening darkness began to exert itself, she was astride him again, facing the west. The water had continually washed the sweat from them and refreshed them. The earth supported and steadied them. The air filling their lungs and carrying their gasps and moans. The sun's fire keeping a chill from their naked flesh.

Just as the sun slipped to its set, its light disappearing into darkness, she impaled herself fully upon him, and with a shared deep moan, pleasure wracked them both as his life seed filled her.

All colour fled her eyes in that second, filling with blackness. She felt her full power, in that moment, without fetter, without rival. Using him, using his consent, she took his power in to meet her own, filling her, rushing in to her being so that she became everything.

Everything that was, is, and will be was hers to see, hers to change, hers to control. Ownership of all of it within her grasp, to take as she saw fit, to create or destroy. 

Total. Unchallenged. Power.

What use had she for anything else? What was there of value to anything that was not of her? What was there in all creation that could stop or hinder her?

The answer came to her mind, of her own mind and without provocation. Memories of a pair of earth brown eyes. A big form kneeling before her. Fis agus eolas.

There was one thing, and one thing alone that could challenge her. 

Herself.

The words came. From her blood red lips they fell. Speaking of the vision she perceived, of the knowledge she held. There were no questions. There were just the words, spilling and tumbling from her to fall into his awaiting ears.

When the words had ceased and all was said she held there, that total unchallenged power. Creation and destruction. Life and Death. Light and Dark.

As the choice was his to start, the choice was hers to finish.

With a last deep breath she closed the blackness of her eyes, exhaled fully, and released him.

His power left her. Flowing back where it came from. Back to that big frame, filling those dark eyes. A shudder ran through her body as the full warm heat of him left her, and she slumped forward atop him, full now only of herself, and completely spent.

His arms when they encircled her were gentle and warm. One big hand moved slowly to her head, there to lightly stroke her hair.

“Thank you.”

The words were soft and sincere. Whispered just for her, with warm breath against her face, followed by the small peck of a kiss.

She allowed herself to be small. Wrapped in those big arms and warmed by his heat, a happy smile came to her rose pink lips.

“Did you get what you need?”

As the power had left her, so had the memory of what she had seen and said, carried back along the lines of energy to the universe.

“Yes. The people shall be prepared and endure because of your gift.”

As the night began to take hold, and the day lose its heat, she snuggled close to him, sharing in his heat and smiled again. They stayed like that until the last light of the day was well gone and the stars had begun to show themselves.

A deep shudder ran through him and a burr for the chill escaped his lips.

“Let's get out of this water now lass before the cold settles any deeper. 
I warm up pretty quick but we both know how long it takes for you, once the cold gets deep in.”

The Morrigan sat up off him and opened her storm grey eyes to meet his deep brown. The smile stayed put as she moved.

His big eyes blinked, seeing her so, and his words rumbled out softly to her.

"You slay me with those eyes of yours, Lass"

"Be glad that's not true, or you would have died many many years ago."

The smile on her reply showed her fondness, but the Dagda's lined face became sincere and his next words direct.

"Oh I did, and do. 
A little part of my resolve dies every time you look at me like this.

You will be the end of me some day. 
Of that I have no doubt."

His words were new to her, and struck something deep inside with a quivering of apprehension. Grasping hold of her Will, she met his sincerity with her own.

"May that day be a long, long way off."

His face softened to hear her reassurance, and a contented smile took on a mischievous tweak.

“Well, you would KNOW for sure,
 one way or the other.”

Rolling her eyes towards the sky, she punched him hard in his meaty arm, yet she couldn't contain her chuckle.

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The Darkness within.

Many knew of their dalliances, those stories of coupling and her gifts of prophecy and favor. Many more of their rivalry, the clash of their Wills again and again as each worked for balance.

Few there were beyond the two that knew of their relationship.

She came to him out of the darkness, the quiet comfortable black that exists between all things of light. Unlooked for, uncalled for, she moved closer. She Knew.

Her bare feet took her on the ways, leading her to him unerringly, without falter. Past his rath, for home would not bring him comfort. Past his flock for he would not find peace being among them. Past his workshop for there was no focus left to him.

Her feet felt the grass, her nose took in the scent of the tree, and her ears the labored breathing from beneath its roots. As she approached the dark entrance to the earth beneath, the tree shuddered under her hand as if some great blow had impacted it.

As she stood one foot on the threshold of the hollow, her Will gathered to her, she could not escape a shiver of apprehension somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

Countless foes she had slain, fools she had humbled, heroes she had claimed. At her call stood a host of ruin fit to break the world. Change was her dominion in all its forms even onto the final change of utter destruction. All of the forces and strength gathered to her Will, all in her control.

Yet still in some primal spot she held a shudder just in check when she thought of Him.

He was here and He was in his darkness.

Slipping silently beneath the earth she felt the tree shudder again, a root deep shake as it absorbed the energy and dissipated it through its ancient feet and into the earth.

Shifting into the space she heard him first. Breathing labored and heavy. Each exhalation ending in a deep throated growl. Body moving in the confines of the space. Feet scraping the soil, shoulders rubbing against the inside of the tree, big broad strong hands gripping and scratching the wood.

Next her nose took up the scent of him, so similar to that of the earth itself it still had a distinct tone to his sweat which she could never mistake. Breathing deep she inhaled the scent of blood, rich and metallic. His blood.

Her heart pumping hard she was stirred in many ways. The heady coppery smell filling her and causing a different shudder she could not suppress. Her intent shifted slightly in response to that feeling.

In the darkness, the labored breathing stilled abruptly, and a heavy silence fell. Like some beast scenting prey she heard him snuffle the air. Letting her eyes adjust she saw his shape, broad and muscled, still and poised in the darkness, head up and to the side, to catch the smells around him.

That primal shudder skittered across the back of her mind again to see him so, yet this time her reply was a smile, all teeth and aggression.

Her moment was near. She would have to time it right, strike when she had her opening or leave him to his darkness. Her eyes, blacker than the dark about her, weighed him, mind flickering back and forth on every detail as she reached her moment.

With a second to tense and target her Will, she lept. Sailing out of the blackness she landed upon his back, arms locking around his bull thick neck, her strong legs wrapping tightly about his waist.

In the moment of contact she felt it all, the echo of which had brought her to this place. Rage mixed with pain roared its way into her awareness. A crashing wave of sensation that would drown anyone foolish enough to be unprepared for its wroth. The red and blackness of it all swirling about her mind as she sought deeper within him, searching for the cause.

His reaction was instantaneous, throwing his weight forward with a roar, frenzied and animalistic, trying to dislodge her. Thrashing his mighty shoulders back and forth. Her strength held and with a squeezing of her arms and thighs she denied him his breath.

His thrashing did not ease, only intensified with the loss of air. She felt her skin scrape against the the earth and tree roots around her, but the pain it caused was funneled by her Will adding strength of her grip.

With a gasped growl, he  finally slumped to one knee, big arms out and braced against the interior of the tree.

Loosing her arms she let him breath and clamped an iron grip with her hands upon the broad meat of his shoulder muscles. A hiss escaped him as her fingers pressed deep into the locked knotted flesh across his collar bones.

The words when they came were a hushed angry growl from a throat that had not uttered a clear word in hours.

“Don't. It’s mine. Mine to bear.”

Ignoring him, she drove her strong fingers against his flesh, working, kneading, releasing the pressure where she found it.

As her body worked his flesh, her senses searched his energy. The storm within him began to ease as the pain she caused him relieved the pain which he held to. The red rage began to fade in him as his great arms slumped low, the blood on his knuckles, dripping into the soil.

Still, she did not relax her muscles, legs tight to him, body pressed to his, her cold skin taking the heat out of him as his breathing steadied to a slow even pace.

Her eyebrows moved to a frown as the blackness did not stir, but deepened in its stillness within him, taking a hold.

Leaning in close, arms loose around his neck she placed her lips close and breathed huskily into his ear.

“What? All that fight gone from you now?”

So saying she sank her teeth into his scarred ear, biting hard and sending a spike of red back through him.

With an answer growl he moved, and she allowed him shirk her over his shoulders and into a crushing embrace. His mouth found hers and the pressure of his kiss crushed her lips to her teeth, the strength of his grip bruising her flesh, and the hunger of his need washing over her.

She accepted it and gave equally, her hunger in return.

Their coupling was fierce. All flame and power coursing one against the other. Muscles pressing and straining. Skin sweating against skin. His weight crushed down upon her as he moved within her. Their pace frantic as they pressed themselves together each simply feeding their need with the others flesh.

Their labored breathing intermingled with gasps and grunts could lead to only one ending and in that moment of explosive release, they roared as one.

As  he drew deep on his next breath, his arms gave and he lay forward onto her. Her arms came up and around his wide shoulders as she held him against her, each working to steady their breath.

Deep within him, the blackness had shifted, the red of the anger having burned it back. In its center she found a whiteness. The space where peace and calm ruled. With that she found her smile, warm and genuine this time.

Moving her hands she lightly scraped the skin across his broad back , tickling the hairs there.

The hiss that escaped him this time was one of happy pleasure, and he raised himself up to meet her gaze.

“ I have told you lass, no one touches my shoulders.”

Mischief sparkled in her eyes and her smile broadened.

“Its lucky that I’m definitely a someone to you then, otherwise you would be lost and I would have no one to play with. No one decent anyway.”

His chuckle rumbled up from his broad chest and she felt his normal warmth enfold her, comforting and close.

She didn't ask because she already knew, and he didn't thank because no words would ever be big enough.

When next their lips met it was soft and gentle, intimate and caring. Their bodies began to move again, but this time with a slowness to match their kissing.

Three words were all that followed.

“I love you.”

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