Topic: Sublimation: Answers Are Questions Unspoken

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-10-12 13:17 EST
((Follows the events of Sublimation: An Opportunity.))

It was an ordinary night at 2415 Green Lane in Rhy'Din's Temple District. According to the clock, it was just past midnight - the witching hour, some called it. The occupants of the house - those that were human anyway - were all in their beds, but they were not all asleep. Two of them were snuggled together in bed, fast asleep, as yet oblivious of the goings on in the rest of the house. Just like any ordinary night, Desmond laid close to Piper, one arm wrapped protectively and lovingly around her, peaceful and quiet, unaware as yet that their ordinary night was about to become not so ordinary.

In the gloom, the door opened just a little, barely enough to let even a crack of light through from the hallway, but just enough to let one of the many wee folk who shared the house with their humans and faerie-child to squeeze through. In a buzz of movement, the little figure ran to the bed in silence, clambering up the bedclothes hand over hand to navigate the pitfalls of walking across the sleeping pair without waking one of them. Oisin was the only one of the fairy folk in the house who would dare to do this, and thankfully, Des had already been warned in advance that it was likely to happen. The ugly brownie tugged on Desmond's earlobe, hissing directly into the human male's ear. "Oy, longshanks! Wakey, wakey!"

Desmond reacted as most people reacted when unexpectedly awoken in the middle of the night. Well, not exactly the middle of the night. He'd gone to bed a short while ago and wasn't in a deep sleep yet, stirring a little at the brownie's voice hissing in his ear. Advance warning or not, it still came as a surprise to be unexpectedly awoken the way he was. "Hmm?" he mumbled sleepily, prying one eye open to peer into the darkness.

Oisin backed up a couple of steps to the highest point of Des' shoulder so the man could see him, and waved in the gloom. "The big wee girl is here," he told Des, still speaking in a gentle hiss. He winced as Piper stirred briefly, pressing her face tighter to the pillow beneath her cheek with a mild sound of protest. Looking back to Des, the brownie poked at his shoulder with the toe of his surprisingly heavy boots. "Says it's her last visit. The faerie-child says yer to come now."

"Big wee girl?" Des muttered back, his mind a little murky and muddled from sleep. It took a moment before the gears in his head started turning and he realized what the little brownie was talking about. "Oh," Des replied, muffling his voice to match the brownie's in a hushed whisper. "All right. I'll be right there," he whispered back.

Nodding, Oisin scrambled back down to the floor, disappearing for a moment only to reappear and beckon hurriedly at the door. Whatever was happening in Lyneth's room, it would seem that the brownie was worried Des was going to miss it if he took his time getting out of bed.

Des noted Oisin's haste, but before he could go, he needed to make sure Piper wasn't going to follow. He leaned over and brushed a kiss against her cheek, before tucking the blanket around her and slipping quietly from the bed to follow the brownie to Lyneth's room. He glanced back once at the bed to make sure she was still asleep before slipping from the room.

Bereft of the warmth of his body at her back, Piper protested softly, but easily slipped back into sleep as he tucked her in, reassured enough by that little bit of contact not to rise from her slumber and disrupt what was happening tonight. Perhaps it was duplicitous not to tell her that a full-grown Fae was in her daughter's bedroom at that moment, but there were reasons behind it. This particular full-grown Fae posed no threat to their little family unit at all.

The door to Lyneth's bedroom was partially open as always, but unusually, a soft golden light emanated from within, punctuated by soft voices. One was easily identifiable as the little imp who made every day in that house one to remember; the other was older, softer, gentle, and somehow sad. That older voice came from a beautiful Fae woman, clad in crimson, cloaked in velvet, surrounded by the smell of autumn leaves, the sound of gentle wind through grass. She knelt by little Lyneth's bed, stroking the tiny girl's hair gently back from her face as she spoke. "....won't be able to come back again, bach cariad. Don't forget what I taught you."

Desmond padded on bare feet toward Lyneth's room, drawn as much by the golden light and smells of autumn as by the soft voices he just barely heard coming from that room. He hesitated just outside the door, long enough to hear a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar. He'd met an older Lyneth briefly once before, but that had just been another aspect of Lyneth herself. This other - this full-grown Fae - was different. Though she looked and sounded nearly like the other, Desmond sensed that this was not the same Lyneth who'd saved his life one night in a dark alley in Manhattan.

The smaller Lyneth answered, her tiny voice sleepy but attentive. "An' you promise nothin' bad will happen to Mummy an' Daddy?"

There was a pause, thick with unspoken words and regrets, before the older voice replied. "No, bach cariad. If you keep practicing your lessons and you love Mummy and Daddy just as hard as you can, nothing bad will happen to any of you."

Des pushed the door open a little more, so he could get a better look at the Fae woman who had come to see Lyneth and better hear what was being said between them, as quietly as he could, but not quiet enough to stop the door from creaking just enough to give him away. He froze in the doorway, hoping he wouldn't frighten her away or startle the sleepy little girl. He didn't think it should be up to Lyneth to protect him and Piper, but up to them to protect her.

That little creak was all it took to disturb the scene within the room. The golden light flared a little brighter, its source a coiling spiral of pure energy floating above little Lyneth's hand, the only sign that the tiny girl was surprised by Des' inadvertent intrusion.

The elder raised her head, dark hair falling back from her face, and there, in the golden light, were revealed the turquoise eyes that could only belong to Lyneth. She was older, yes, a beautiful woman come fully into the immortal, eternal Fae-blood that ran through her veins. Her face was sombre as she rose to her feet in a rustle of rich fabric, surprised by the unexpected interruption. Yet the moment her gaze fell on Des' face, her expression twisted, the shock of heartache and sadness stark on her exquisite features. "Daddy?"

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-10-12 13:18 EST
Still frozen in the doorway, Desmond was held almost spellbound by the face that looked back at him. She was hauntingly, inhumanly beautiful - the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, even more beautiful than the elder Lyneth who'd saved his life in the alley earlier that year. She was so beautiful that he caught his breath, but despite her otherworldly beauty, he could not mistake the turquoise eyes that could only belong to Lyneth. He stood there, silent and still as a statue, as shocked by her presence as she was by his, but it was not until she spoke that he felt his heart was wrenched with a sadness that matched her own. This full-grown Fae that could only be some future aspect of Lyneth recognized him, not as Desmond, her mother's lover, but as the father of her heart. "Lyneth?" he asked, naming her, gaze ticking briefly to the little girl in the bed, then back to the woman before him.

The pain on her face was heartbreaking to behold as she turned accusing eyes onto her younger self, curled up warm beneath her bedclothes. "I told you not to tell them I was here," she began, but the little Lyneth shook her head with a sleepy smile.

"You wanted to see Daddy," she said, yawning as she closed her fingers around the spiraling light that illuminated the room, absorbing that energy back into herself with the ease of practice she had learned over the weeks. "An' I can't 'splain like you. Go be with Daddy, m'sleepy."

Cut off as the tiny girl rolled over and closed her eyes, the elder woman looked back at Desmond, clearly torn. "I don't know what to do," she whispered uncertainly. "You weren't supposed to know I was here."

The lawyer in Desmond came out, knowing what to say without hesitation or thought. "Does it matter if she tells me or if you tell me yourself?" he asked, not really seeing the difference. "She's just a child. Tell me what I need to do to protect her," he said, not quite realizing that was more about how to save himself and Piper than Lyneth, but to Desmond, it was all the same thing. If Lyneth was lost, then so were those who loved her. "I know her father is going to come for her sometime. Tell me how I can prevent him from taking her." He didn't ask exactly, but he didn't make any demands either. He glanced at the little girl again, who was drifting off to sleep again, and his heart ached with sadness as he glanced back at the Fae that had once been that little girl. "Please. I love her. I can't lose her." His expression softened, hiding none of the heartache and worry he was feeling or the depth of love he felt for the daughter of his heart.

"He is not our father," the Autumn Queen said vehemently, her soft voice harsh with certainty. "He spawned us, nothing more. He cares only for power, our power, to add it to his own. And if that happens, the little girl you love will become me." Her unnatural eyes glowed with certain despair. "It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone. And nor do I want her to know what could be."

Desmond absorbed this, his analytical mind discerning her meaning without explanation. He wasn't sure what she was exactly, but he knew she was not human. Whatever human part of her there had once been was gone, replaced by the part of her that was Fae. She had become something and someone he could not quite comprehend, but somehow he knew it was her humanity that was the key to stopping her father from succeeding. "You're from her future, but that future has not happened yet. It can be changed. Tell me how to change it. Tell me how to prevent her from sharing your fate."

For a long moment, she did not answer, looking down at the sleeping child she had once been, longing for the innocence and sweetness, the humanity that was missing from herself. Slowly, she raised those turquoise eyes, so beautiful, so inhuman, back to Des' face. "Not here," she said softly. "She is not so asleep that she cannot hear us."

"The garden," Desmond suggested quietly, as he glanced to the dozing Lyneth. There was no risk of being discovered or overheard by Lyneth or Piper in the garden, and he had nothing to hide from the fairies who kept watch there or from the little brownie who had befriended him. "We'll be safe in the garden."

Again, the Autumn Queen hesitated, but she nodded, gathering her skirt in one hand to move toward the door, and out into the hallway beyond. Beneath the artificial light from the lamp, those characteristics that made her inhuman seemed amplified - the strange, otherworldly beauty marred by a lack of depth behind her eyes, the angles of her form jarring to the gaze of a man who was protected against the deception of illusion. She seemed to be two people in one space - one, the beautiful woman; the other, an aged hag, all life drained from her by her long years of immortality.

To say he was jarred by that view was something of an understatement, finding her both beautiful and grotesque at the same time. To his credit, he hardly flinched, though his insides were tied up in knots. He was accustomed to hiding his true feelings behind a mask; it was one of the reasons Piper had once accused him of being cold, before she had broken down the walls he'd built around his heart. He stood aside to let her move past him, hesitating a moment to look back at the sleeping child in the bed, needing to make sure she was safe before he did anything else.

Left alone in her room, little Lyneth yawned and settled on her back, her beloved stuffed rabbit hugged tight in her short arms as the fairies who inhabited the plants lovingly placed on her windowsill ventured out to tuck her in safely, themselves settling all around on the coverlet and nightstand, to keep watch over their faerie-child until the dawn.

He hovered in the doorway and would have stayed longer to make sure she was safe, but he had a feeling the Fae-woman that had once been that same child would not wait for him very long. Satisfied little Lyneth was safe for now, guarded by her fairy friends, Desmond tugged the door closed, leaving it open only a crack so that he and Piper could hear if she needed them. He then turned, laying a finger against his mouth to indicate the need for silence, and quietly led her toward the staircase and down through the house, pausing a moment to grab his coat and step into a pair of sneakers before continuing onward toward the back door that led to the garden.

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-10-12 13:19 EST
The Autumn Queen made barely a sound as she followed him down the stairs, through the darkened living room beyond toward the kitchen and the garden. But there was one more surprise for Des as she passed by the basket where Loki lay dreaming doggie dreams. The Malamute started awake abruptly, blue eyes rising to focus upon the Fae-woman as she passed by, and a low, dangerous growl emanated from behind his suddenly bared teeth. Whatever it was that kept the dog from recognizing little Lyneth as a Fae, and therefore a danger, was utterly absent in this older woman. Yet she had the power to still him, pausing to touch her fingertips to the end of his nose, and abruptly the dog's growl ceased. There was still something in her that was a part of the child left sleeping above.

Des was startled by Loki's growl but before he had a chance to reassure the dog and calm him down, the Fae woman was already doing it. Des wasn't sure how - whether it was some sort of magic or whether the dog sensed that she meant them no harm - but whatever it was, Loki had quieted, and the risk of awakening Piper had passed. Des wasn't sure how he knew she was who she said she was, but protected as he was against the Fae's tricks and illusion, he had no other explanation but to believe her.

Out in the garden, she drew her cloak about herself, more out of deference to his susceptibility to the chill than her own. She was Fae; she could have stood in the snow naked and felt nothing. The Autumn Queen turned to face Des, the jarring strangeness of her aspect dimmed by the light cast from the crescent moons above. "I have lived," she said quietly, "for six hundred years, and each day of them has been a torment to that part of me that was not born for this role. Each day, but those I spent as a very small child, with a mother who loved me, and a father who adored me. A family ....that I will never have again."

Des drew his coat around him almost in a mirror image of her drawing her cloak. There was a chill in the autumn night air cold enough to make his breath turn to vapor, but the cold didn't worry him so much as her presence. She had come for a reason, and somehow he knew she had taken a risk in coming here. He needed to know what had happened, and he thought it would be best if she started at the beginning. "Tell me what happened. How did you become what you are now?"

The answer, when it came, was shockingly simple. "I lost my humanity." Four words, that explained everything and yet told him absolutely nothing. The Autumn Queen stepped away, her skirt rustling against the grass as she passed between the plants her younger self spent so much time upon every day. "It was that part of myself that came from my mother, her greatest gift to me. It was nurtured by the man she chose to be my father." Her eyes rose to meet his across the moon-drenched garden. "You. And when I lost you, and her, I gave up my humanity rather than live with that pain. I didn't hold onto the love that you gave me, that I gave you and Mummy. I let it go, and I lost any chance I might ever have had of coming home again."

He listened quietly as she started to explain, understanding some of what she was telling him, though not all of it. There was one thing she said that he wasn't entirely in agreement of, though he wasn't sure if he should point it out, if it was important to point it out. "She didn't chose me to be your father, Lyneth," he called her by the name he had always known her by, whether it was now her name or not. "I chose to be your father. It was my choice, and I made it freely because I love you. Even now, there is something inside of you that's still her. If there wasn't, you wouldn't be so sad." He met her gaze across the garden, not daring to step any closer, drawing meaning from her words without her having to say them. "How'd we die?" he asked in a hushed voice, almost afraid to know. He had almost died once; he had no intentions of dying again, not until he was very old.

There was a longer pause this time, the ache that rose with those memories palpable as the Autumn Queen looked upon a past she would never be able to change for herself. Her goal in being here was to change the future for a child who should never know what it was to be alone in a crowded realm. "I made a mistake," she said finally, sadness seeping into every syllable. "I put my trust in a magic that wasn't mine, and I couldn't save you. The bottled warrior she wears about her neck - I tried to use it to prevent him from going after Mummy when she was tired and vulnerable. He took it, and made it obey him, and it killed you in the street. You never saw the danger coming - it was no illusion, no part of it was out of place."

She sank down onto the little stone bench in the shadow of the oak, pain etched over her beautiful face. "I left Mummy to try and save you, and he killed her and -" She stopped herself there, not wanting to give away too much, even to Des, even now. "You died in my arms. I didn't know how to staunch blood, or heal a wound. I was all alone, and exhausted from my efforts. I collapsed. And when I came to, I was no longer in Rhy'Din. I was no longer a child. My pain had aged me, and it felt as though it was threatening to overwhelm me whenever I thought of the family that I had lost. I didn't know it was love; I didn't know that was the only thing keeping me from being entirely in his power. I cut out my humanity to save myself from the pain of losing my family, and instead I lost everything."

Desmond was moved by her story, by the obvious pain she was feeling, by the loneliness of her existence, and the grief she felt at their deaths - and yet, none of this had happened yet, not in his world. It could still be prevented. He wasn't sure if he could touch her; somehow he knew he could bring her little comfort, and yet, he moved over to sit beside her on the bench beneath the oak, as much to offer her comfort as to try and absorb what she was telling him. He could not imagine all that she had been through, but her story was a tragic one and though she was no longer human, there was still something of his little Lyneth deep inside her, and it was to that which he clung. "You were a child, Lyneth," he tried to offer what comfort he could, anger rising in him that the Fae would use her in such a way. He knew a little of her father - of the man who'd spawned her - from Piper, and he had sworn to keep them both safe, but how did one fight someone as powerful as that' "Will it happen the same way again?"

"I hope it will not." She sighed softly, wrapping one icy cold hand about his as he sat beside her. "I have been waiting a very long time for the opportunity to put right the mistake I made. Only the alignment ruling this world at this time made it possible for me to break through without calling on the power of my own realm, of the season I rule under him. If he knew I was here, you would all be in danger, but the alignment shields me. I came to teach the little one what she needs to know to prevent what happened to me from happening to her."

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-10-12 13:20 EST
He let her take his hand, shocked by the chill of that touch. There was no humanity in her; whatever humanity was left was only a memory of what she'd once been. He didn't really understand what she was saying when she talked about alignments, but he did understand the danger they'd all face if her Fae father discovered her there. "And have you? I heard you tell her this would be your final visit. Does she know what she needs to know to prevent it from happening" There must be something I can do to help."

His carefully-controlled composure cracked for a moment, as he felt an unexpected sense of desperation well up inside him with the need to protect those he loved, those he'd come to care for. They were his life, and there was no point in living without them. For just a moment, he was filled with an awful desperation so strong it almost brought him to tears, but he fought back, pushing it aside, drawing on the anger and the rage that rose up inside him at the thought of anyone doing Piper or Lyneth any harm. "I promised to protect them. I promised to keep them safe. Tell me what I have to do to keep that promise."

"When the time comes, and you will know it when it is here, wrap her in your love," the Autumn Queen told him, answering his desperation with the only thing she could. "When that time comes, you will have only a matter of months before he comes for her. The Fae are not human; we do not understand the power of love. It burns us, it diminishes us. At heart, we make mischief for mischief's sake; we do not understand or care that people are hurt by our mischief. A Fae cannot love, nor does it understand what it is to be loved. Never let her forget that she is loved, that you treasure her love, and teach her in the years to come to understand that the pain of loss must be endured if she wants to hold onto the memory of that love. The family you have created is her strongest shield against him, and he will not dare move against you when he has been defeated once."

Moved once again by her words, this time he could not help the rising tide of emotions, despite his best efforts to maintain control. This haunted being who he could not quite call a woman was a mere shade of the Lyneth he knew and loved, a child he could not have loved more if she was of his own flesh and blood. He shook his head, not from misunderstanding what she was telling him, but because he could not imagine her ever forgetting how much she was loved. "But I do love her," he insisted, his voice quiet and rough with the well-spring of emotions he was having a hard time keeping hidden. "I don't know how I could possibly love her more than I already do."

The ice-cold fingers tightened about his. "I did not say that you would ever stop loving her," the Autumn Queen said quietly, her unnatural eyes on his, weary and heartsick. "There comes a time in everyone's life, when they fear losing the love of a parent, or a sibling, or a friend, because they think there is not enough love in that heart to include them when others come to the fore." She was trying hard not to tell him the joy in his future, but he was making it difficult to keep that joy a secret.

He shook his head again, wiping a hand across his eyes, ashamed to let her see the tears he always tried so hard to keep hidden. "How can I make you understand" Nothing will ever make me stop loving her or Piper. My life was empty before I met them. I can't even start to explain..." He broke off, turning aside so she wouldn't see the play of emotions on his face. There was joy in the love he felt for Piper and Lyneth, but with that joy came worry and fear. Now that he had found them, he knew he could never live without them. For all his powers of observation, he never quite caught her meaning, too busy focusing on the worry that Lyneth might doubt his love.

The Fae woman had no patience with his refusal to accept what she was saying. "I know you love her," she said harshly. "And I have not once said that you do not, or that you will not. Stop hearing me with your pride and use your ears, or everything, everyone, you love will be gone before two of your years have gone by!"

She stamped to her feet, spinning to face him, turquoise eyes flashing with impatience as she bent to fill his view. In that moment, the inhuman power she held so tightly was palpable on the air, a crackling, dangerous force kept in check only by the thought of the being in front of him. "There will come a time when the child she is will fear losing your love to another. Not just yours, but her mother's, too. She must not lose faith in the family you have built, do you understand me" That is all that matters. I do not need to understand your love. I am condemned to an eternity without love or family or any hint of humanity because I doubted, and I made a mistake. Don't let my past become your future."

He recognized an unexpected anger in her voice, and he couldn't help but shudder as she spun to face him, filling his vision with that inhuman face, the all too familiar turquoise eyes. It wasn't the cold that made him shudder, nor was it fear, but a sense of power so strong and so dangerous, he could almost feel crackling like electricity in the air. He met her gaze, his face wet with tears, eyes widening a little as he seemed to finally understand her meaning. There was going to be another child - one that would vie with Lyneth for their love - but he and Piper had plenty of love to go around. That was part of what being a family was all about. "How can my loving her - our loving her - stop him from taking her?" he asked, only partly understanding. "Will our love shield her somehow" Or will it give her the strength to fight him?"

She eased back, mollified by his slow approach to understanding her. "The Fae do not love," she said again. "We do not understand it. We cannot fathom how one person can give up everything for the sake of another. It looks like weakness, but it has the power to destroy even the best laid plan. Just love her, and let her love for you give her the strength to protect you when the time comes. She is more powerful than him, precisely because she has humanity, because she can love. She has something to fight for. He only has emptiness."

Her explanation both made sense and was confusing at the same time. She had come back to teach Lyneth how to fight her Fae father, and yet the key seemed to be knowing Desmond and Piper loved her. "You don't have to worry about that. I will never stop loving her, and she will never have to doubt it." He was as certain of that as he was that the twin moons would rise every evening. No matter how many children he and Piper might be blessed with, Lyneth would always be special because Lyneth was chosen.

"Then that is all she really needs. All I have done is give her an edge he will not be expecting." The Autumn Queen straightened herself, smoothing her skirts as she drew in a slow breath. One hand reached out to touch the still air, and a ripple emanated from that touch, widening until it seemed as though that one patch of air was the rippling surface of some captured watering place, upright in the moonlight. She paused, looking down at him. "I will not come here again, but ....think of me, when the leaves turn. Be safe, Daddy."

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-10-12 13:20 EST
"Lyneth..." he whispered, eyes filling once again with tears as he realized she was leaving and he'd never see her again - not this Lyneth anyway, the Lyneth that had become the Autumn Queen - and he felt that sense of desperation fill him again, a desperate need to make her understand that he loved her despite what she'd become, that he would always love her, whether she was young or old, human or Fae, mortal or immortal. When she called him by that name that fathers everywhere took for granted, something twisted inside him, like a dagger piercing his heart, filling him with mingled sadness and joy. "I love you," he whispered, his voice choked with tears.

She paused once again, holding his gaze with something that might almost have been regret in her sad eyes. Yet perhaps that was why she had become the Queen of Autumn - her sadness was the sadness of the world as the seasons turned, as the leaves withered and fell from the trees, and nature took on the cloak of death to survive the winter that was coming. "I cannot tell you how much I wish that I could answer you in kind," she whispered, and for just a moment, a hint of what little humanity remained in her shone through. "Love her, and she will always love you. That is all I can give you."

He nodded his head, managing to reply in a ragged voice, "I will. I promise." He would have said more, but his voice failed him. He wondered if by preventing the Fae from taking Lyneth away, they would change her future and hence, the future of the Fae she would become. Would the Autumn Queen's past be changed by changing their future" It seemed to stand to reason that it would.

She held his gaze for a long time, seeming to be looking into a past that might now be more hopeful for the tiny child asleep in her bedroom above them. A past where she remembered loving and being loved, a past that had held a mother and a father for a brief time. A sad smile touched her lips as her gaze focused on Des once again. "Goodbye, Daddy." With a gentle rustle of skirts, she stepped into the rippling air and out of sight forever, the portal ebbing away until there was no sign that the Autumn Queen had ever been there at all.

Des held her gaze, saddened by what his little girl had become, by what he had somehow failed to prevent somewhere in her past, but now that he knew it, he wouldn't let it happen in his own future. "Goodbye, Lynnie," he whispered sadly as the air around her rippled and she disappeared, like she'd never been there at all. For the first time in a long time, Des found himself crying - crying for a little girl who had become a creature who had forgotten how to love. He remained there on the bench beneath the oak tree for a long while, feeling as though his heart was breaking, and yet, despite the tragedy, she had brought a message of hope. There was another child in their future, one who would know the same love Lyneth knew, but no matter how many children he and Piper were blessed with, Lyneth would always hold a special place in their hearts. He only had to make sure she never doubted it.

In the midst of his tears, he didn't hear the back door opening and closing, or the shuffle of small feet across the porch and onto the grass. But he couldn't miss the gentle insinuation of a tiny hand into his grasp as the little girl who was his Lyneth blinked sleepily up at him. "Don' cry, Daddy," she said in her quiet, piping voice, rubbing her eye with one of her stuffed rabbit's ears. "I'm not goin' away."

Her little girl's voice drew him from his thoughts, her fingers finding his, and he turned a tear-stained face to find his Lyneth looking sleepily up at him. She was still there, still a little girl. No one had come to take her away or turn her into a creature who couldn't remember what it was to love or be loved. "Lynnie," he whispered again, drawing her into his arms to fold her in his embrace, holding her snugly against him, as if he was afraid to let her go. He drew a deep breath, his chest heavy with sadness. "I love you," he whispered, needing to say it again, this time to the little girl who needed to hear it, not the Fae creature who no longer understood it.

The tiny girl curled into his arms, still sleepy from being roused a second time from her bed, cuddling close as he wrapped his arms around her. She couldn't have said why she woke a second time, nor why she came down into the garden, only that somehow she had known she was needed. Enveloped in Des' embrace, she hugged to him, smiling as he whispered to her. "Love you back, Daddy," she promised him in her sleepy voice, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "Why're you cryin'?"

It had been heartbreaking to see the creature his little Lyneth had become - beautiful and powerful but so tragically sad and lonely, even if she didn't realize it. How could he explain to the Lyneth that was still a child that it had broken his heart to see her that way' How could he explain how desperately he wanted - no, needed - to prevent it from happening" Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe the Autumn Queen was right. Maybe all he had to do was make sure she always knew how much she was loved. He could do that, for starters anyway. He drew another breath, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from his face before finding the right words to explain those tears. "It's hard to explain, sweetheart, but loving someone is a double-edged sword. It's like....You know how much you love your mother?"

The little face looked up at him from where he cradled her close, nodding as she sucked on her thumb. She didn't understand what was going on; just that Des needed her for some reason, and that was more important than sleep. "An' you," she added onto the end of his question. "I love Mummy an' you."

"Yes, and me. Well, sometimes when you love someone that much - as much as you love us, and as much as we love you - it hurts a little bit. They become a part of you. You feel what they feel somewhere inside." He touched that little impish face he so adored, seeing some of Piper in her, but something else, too - that otherworldly side of her that he couldn't quite comprehend. "I never knew what that was like before I met you and your mother."

It was that otherworldly side of her that answered him, the child fading from her eyes for just a little while to show him the warmth and affection of that incomprehensible older self she kept hidden away. "She isn't really gone, you know," the little voice said softly. "She's in me. But because I'm a part of Mummy, and Mummy is a part of me, she won't be lonely or sad again. And that's because Mummy has you, and I have you, and you have us."

Lyneth Granger

Date: 2013-10-12 13:22 EST
Though he knew that other part of Lyneth existed inside her somewhere, every time she made an appearance, he was full of awe and wonder and just a little bit of sadness that she wasn't really his. "I know, sweetheart. It's just....sometimes I wish you were really mine, but I couldn't love you more if you were." He felt the tears rising again that he tried so hard not to let anyone else see, needing to be strong for them and for everyone. He'd been strong for his mother, never letting her know how her illness was tearing him up until it was too late. He wasn't sure if that had been a wise decision or not, but he needed Lyneth to know just how much a part of his life she had become. "I know it's hard to understand, but I can't imagine my life without you or your mother anymore. You're part of me now, Lynnie, and....I need you to know how much I love you."

One tiny hand reached up to touch his cheek, the gentleness she could only have learned from her mother there in that touch as the tiny face smiled up at him. "I know I'm a part of you," she said quietly. "And you're a part of me. Because I love you." Her little hand dropped to press over his heart, and for a long moment, nothing moved or made a whisper in the garden around them. And slowly, so gradually that it might almost have been imperceptible, a gentle glow emanated from the little palm, warming his heart, and illuminating something that had been there all along. "How else did I know when you needed me?"

He looked into her eyes for what seemed like a long time, wishing he could make her understand what he was trying to say, but maybe she understood already, or at least some part of her did. He sensed a hush surround them, a quiet that was unnatural even in the still of the night, her hand touching his heart beneath the trench coat and warming it somehow from the inside. He didn't see that glow so much as feel it, the love he felt for her emanating from his heart into her tiny hand. "But how will I know if you need me?" he asked what he judged to be the more important question.

"I'll tell you." It was such a simple answer to his question, and yet he hadn't quite touched on what was most important to the tiny, powerful little imp cradled in his lap. "Daddy, I don't need to be protected. I'm supposed to protect you. And I need you to help me protect Mummy, because I can't be everywhere. Can you?"

Her answer surprised him for a moment, but then all the puzzle pieces seemed to slip into place, and he realized she was right. Piper was the key to everything. It wasn't so much Lyneth he needed to protect as it was Piper. He had been going about all of this entirely the wrong way. It was Piper who was in danger, not Lyneth. So long as Piper was safe, Lyneth would be, too. What had the Autumn Queen said" That she had given up after he and Piper were dead. There had been nothing left to fight for after that. Piper was the one who was the most vulnerable. She was the one who needed protecting. He considered all that for a long moment before furrowing his brows, a look of further worry on his face. "I'm not sure how," he admitted sadly.

"You can learn. You live in a realm of wonders. Somewhere among them is a man who has spent his life learning and defending against the darkest of those wonders. He gave up everything to do that, though now he has all he sacrificed returned to him. He can teach you." And just like that, the older, wiser portion of his little girl melted away in a wide yawn. The turquoise eyes turned from ageless to young, sleepy and smiling. "C'n I sleep wiv you an' Mummy tonight?"

On the rare occasions when she tapped into it, he was always struck by the wiser side of Lyneth, by the Fae that was buried somewhere in the body of a little girl. It would take a bit of thought before he worked out what she was getting at and who she was talking about, but Des was a smart man, and one way or another, he'd work it out, either consciously or subconsciously. At least, he knew what he had to do now. He had to learn how to protect Piper and by protecting her, he'd keep Lyneth safe. That, and make sure they both knew they were loved, but that was the easy part. The look on his face changed, softening, his heart melting as the wise Fae inside her faded, giving way to the little girl he so adored. "I think that can be arranged, but you have to promise not to kick me in your sleep!" he teased, the smile of a proud and happy father replacing that of a worried frown. He moved to his feet, tucking her effortlessly against his hip.

"An' you has to stop Mr Winkie from pokin' me," was her sleepy reply as he picked her up, small arms wrapping securely about his neck as she laid her head on his shoulder. There was a rustle from the oak as the dryad within wished them a good night, the oddly silent tension falling away from the garden as father and daughter moved back toward the house.

It had been a strange night, yes; emotional, painful, but they came out of it with hope for a future they both knew they could change. One way or another, this tiny girl would not become the soulless Autumn Queen who had visited them, surrounded as she was by the love her parents held for her. And somehow, without quite knowing why or how it worked, they had taken the first step toward locking the Fae out of their lives for good. It wasn't a magic spell, or a mystic artifact they needed. All they needed was each other.

((And that concludes Lyneth's portion of the Sublimation SL. Plans laid for big drama some time in the next ....um ....two years" :grin: Many thanks to Des' player for going along with me, and huge thanks to Fenner's player for creating the Sublimation SL in the first place!))