((The events of Haunted (MA) are the catalyst for this tale.))
Niamh knelt on the frozen grass outside the little cottage she shared with Brishen, her eyes closed, her hands resting easily on her knees as she breathed slow and steady. With the advances of the last few days, the rush of the last weeks, she felt the need for a little calm within herself. Hence the meditating, in the middle of their lawn, on a freezing day. No one could ever accuse Niamh of having the best sense when it came to the places that grounded her.
As her breathing slowed, levelling out to a hushed sigh that came gently into her and just as gently left, she found herself listening to the steady thumpthump of her heartbeat. And not just her heartbeat ... the thumpthump had an echo, or perhaps answer was a better word to use here. She could hear Brishen's heartbeat answering her own.
A faint quirk at the corner of her mouth betrayed the smile that wanted to rise as she realised this. Only a quirk of her lips, though - her body had reached that state of relaxation where to awaken herself would have taken a good deal of effort for just a smile.
Still, she revelled in this tangible sign of the bond that had been formed between herself and her lover. As he was Water, she was Air, and he had reached across the gulf separating them to link and merge his nascent power with hers. Wherever she went now, she could feel him, she knew he was well and safe. She wouldn't ever worry at him not being near again.
As these thoughts filtered through her mind, her consciousness turned inwards to study the gently throbbing bond of magic that held her to Brishen, Niamh slowly became aware that she was touching her own power. That vast resource of untapped potential was within her grasp as she floated in this trancelike state, and like a child, she reached out to gather it into her arms, wanting to see what it could do.
She felt a wind whip at her as though from a great distance, as if her mind were not truly attached to her body, not truly aware of the sting of her hair as it flicked hard against her face and neck, nor the pull of her clothing in the unnatural breeze. She was focused inwards, on the calm state that had given her access to the deep well-spring of power given to her by her mother's Sidhe blood.
Focused so deeply inwards, that she did not notice how the power seemed to focus itself on the closest being to her - on the owner of that answering heartbeat that thumpthumped in her ears. Within the cottage, Brish might well find himself on the recieving end of a whirlwind of flying objects, harnessed by the power in his mate.
A loud cursing broke through her concentration, startling her. She lost her grip on the calm, and with it, the power, blinking her eyes open as the unnatural wind died down, leaving her windswept and trembling with exultation. An exultation that faded as she recognised the voice that was cursing.
"Crap," she muttered, turning to look over her shoulder at the cottage, wondering what she'd done to Brishen this time. Perhaps it really was time she learned a little control, from a certain witch of Fire.
Niamh knelt on the frozen grass outside the little cottage she shared with Brishen, her eyes closed, her hands resting easily on her knees as she breathed slow and steady. With the advances of the last few days, the rush of the last weeks, she felt the need for a little calm within herself. Hence the meditating, in the middle of their lawn, on a freezing day. No one could ever accuse Niamh of having the best sense when it came to the places that grounded her.
As her breathing slowed, levelling out to a hushed sigh that came gently into her and just as gently left, she found herself listening to the steady thumpthump of her heartbeat. And not just her heartbeat ... the thumpthump had an echo, or perhaps answer was a better word to use here. She could hear Brishen's heartbeat answering her own.
A faint quirk at the corner of her mouth betrayed the smile that wanted to rise as she realised this. Only a quirk of her lips, though - her body had reached that state of relaxation where to awaken herself would have taken a good deal of effort for just a smile.
Still, she revelled in this tangible sign of the bond that had been formed between herself and her lover. As he was Water, she was Air, and he had reached across the gulf separating them to link and merge his nascent power with hers. Wherever she went now, she could feel him, she knew he was well and safe. She wouldn't ever worry at him not being near again.
As these thoughts filtered through her mind, her consciousness turned inwards to study the gently throbbing bond of magic that held her to Brishen, Niamh slowly became aware that she was touching her own power. That vast resource of untapped potential was within her grasp as she floated in this trancelike state, and like a child, she reached out to gather it into her arms, wanting to see what it could do.
She felt a wind whip at her as though from a great distance, as if her mind were not truly attached to her body, not truly aware of the sting of her hair as it flicked hard against her face and neck, nor the pull of her clothing in the unnatural breeze. She was focused inwards, on the calm state that had given her access to the deep well-spring of power given to her by her mother's Sidhe blood.
Focused so deeply inwards, that she did not notice how the power seemed to focus itself on the closest being to her - on the owner of that answering heartbeat that thumpthumped in her ears. Within the cottage, Brish might well find himself on the recieving end of a whirlwind of flying objects, harnessed by the power in his mate.
A loud cursing broke through her concentration, startling her. She lost her grip on the calm, and with it, the power, blinking her eyes open as the unnatural wind died down, leaving her windswept and trembling with exultation. An exultation that faded as she recognised the voice that was cursing.
"Crap," she muttered, turning to look over her shoulder at the cottage, wondering what she'd done to Brishen this time. Perhaps it really was time she learned a little control, from a certain witch of Fire.