Linked with this storyline.
Ripples in time breed fractures in space. Fissures and bridges and the suggestion of opportunity. Not everyone could see them; not everyone understood what they were seeing. Even of those who were aware of what was coming to pass, only a rare handful understood enough to be able to manipulate that temporary weakness. Rarer still were those not at the center, those who had been awaiting the opportunity it afforded, ready to take the chance to change what had become the past.
It began with a shift in power for a tiny girl who liked to play at being human. She noticed a change, a strength that had not been there before, and with typical whimsy, had tested it before dismissing the change as just another oddness in her maturing. Her friends noticed it, too; the little people, the wee folk, who spent their time with their faerie-child - they felt the difference in her. Yet not one of them thought to share this news with the human who was her mother, nor the human whom she had chosen to be her father.
Nights became restless things, filled with forgotten dreams that disturbed the little one's sleep, waking her to call out for Mummy, for Daddy, for somebody to come and tell her that everything was as she had always known it, that she and they were safe and well. Too many of those nights, she fell back to sleep only tucked safely in her parents' bed, beyond the reach of the opportunity that struggled to make itself known.
When, at last, it made itself known, the tiny girl was wide awake, curled up in her bed, turquoise eyes watching the flit and flicker of strange lights and swirling mists as they permeated her bedroom. There had been no dreams that night; there had been no need. The fissure had opened fully at last, and from it emerged ....her.
She was a beautiful woman full-grown, in the otherworldly way such of her kind were, and familiar, too. Long brown hair graced her shoulders, delicate features accentuated the point that had grown to her ears, turquoise eyes sought and found those of her counterpart in the darkness. She was richly gowned and jeweled, a stunning crown of amber and agate adorning her head, a necklace of jasper encircling her throat. Yet for all her jewels, her adornment, her beauty ....even the tiny girl who watched her could see that she was unhappy.
She crossed the room in the darkness, seeming to carry her own light with her, and as she passed came the smells of autumn in the changing of the world - fallen leaves, baking apples, fresh cut crops, and the merest hint of spice to tickle the nose. Lowering to her knees beside the bed, she offered her hand to the tiny girl watching her.
She had not come to take the child away, nor had she come with any intent to harm. Armed with the knowledge of what might be, she had come to make sure it would never come to pass, to arm the little person she had once been before the time came for such power to be needed. Lyneth, Queen of the Autumn, unhappy in her gilded cage, had come to make certain that Desmond would live.
Ripples in time breed fractures in space. Fissures and bridges and the suggestion of opportunity. Not everyone could see them; not everyone understood what they were seeing. Even of those who were aware of what was coming to pass, only a rare handful understood enough to be able to manipulate that temporary weakness. Rarer still were those not at the center, those who had been awaiting the opportunity it afforded, ready to take the chance to change what had become the past.
It began with a shift in power for a tiny girl who liked to play at being human. She noticed a change, a strength that had not been there before, and with typical whimsy, had tested it before dismissing the change as just another oddness in her maturing. Her friends noticed it, too; the little people, the wee folk, who spent their time with their faerie-child - they felt the difference in her. Yet not one of them thought to share this news with the human who was her mother, nor the human whom she had chosen to be her father.
Nights became restless things, filled with forgotten dreams that disturbed the little one's sleep, waking her to call out for Mummy, for Daddy, for somebody to come and tell her that everything was as she had always known it, that she and they were safe and well. Too many of those nights, she fell back to sleep only tucked safely in her parents' bed, beyond the reach of the opportunity that struggled to make itself known.
When, at last, it made itself known, the tiny girl was wide awake, curled up in her bed, turquoise eyes watching the flit and flicker of strange lights and swirling mists as they permeated her bedroom. There had been no dreams that night; there had been no need. The fissure had opened fully at last, and from it emerged ....her.
She was a beautiful woman full-grown, in the otherworldly way such of her kind were, and familiar, too. Long brown hair graced her shoulders, delicate features accentuated the point that had grown to her ears, turquoise eyes sought and found those of her counterpart in the darkness. She was richly gowned and jeweled, a stunning crown of amber and agate adorning her head, a necklace of jasper encircling her throat. Yet for all her jewels, her adornment, her beauty ....even the tiny girl who watched her could see that she was unhappy.
She crossed the room in the darkness, seeming to carry her own light with her, and as she passed came the smells of autumn in the changing of the world - fallen leaves, baking apples, fresh cut crops, and the merest hint of spice to tickle the nose. Lowering to her knees beside the bed, she offered her hand to the tiny girl watching her.
She had not come to take the child away, nor had she come with any intent to harm. Armed with the knowledge of what might be, she had come to make sure it would never come to pass, to arm the little person she had once been before the time came for such power to be needed. Lyneth, Queen of the Autumn, unhappy in her gilded cage, had come to make certain that Desmond would live.