Stavanger Bay gently, gently, the constellations aligned

godson @Rannoch

she had not known of the events that had transpired but a day or so ago. she came, weekly, to care for skellige and to be sure he was recovering well. she was the fire beneath his eyelids, and wondered when the rest of him would ignite again. but she was patient with the man, as he was with her. she established, in the meantime, her rule within donnelaith.

aria and constantine had been gone for some time, and had not yet returned. there was not yet sign of them on the coast, though she had not yet diligently searched yet. donnelaith was her priority; her father had spoken to her, and had said, always put donnelaith first.

winter was coming. deirdre felt anxious that those that had raised her had left her before teaching her of its tenacity and its bite both. the chill weather was a prelude to something deirdre had only known as a cub, and it was difficult to recollect those days now. she had come to speak with skellige about the future, their future...

deirdre had called to @Skellige, and he received her. there was little time for her to speak on her thoughts in the crisp autumn evening, for he ushered her inside and spoke to her of a boy he had found and taken in. he informed her of that very boy being thrust into the ocean by he himself, and deirdre watched him as he spoke calmly. for her own part, deirdre did not question him. the boy remembered himself--was named rannoch--but skellige desired that she look over him. there was truly no question of it, for if she did not do it for the boy himself, then certainly she would have, for the leviathan beside her!

deirdre did not know the manner in which the boy was taken. the pale, ethereal witch did not ask; perhaps rannoch would share it with her, perhaps he would not. skellige lingered while deirdre peered into the mouth of the den, her voice soft and warm, gentle and truly sweet: hello--rannoch? she was thoughtful for a moment, her emerald eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of where rannoch rest--she caught only the outline of him. may i come in?

ANGST.

Rannoch was growing more accustomed to his new home, despite the harsh stench that the ocean gave off. He was growing moreso use to the constant ebb and flow of the tides, of the oddities that came from within the sea, and the smell that had once nearly caused him to gag. But despite his settling, Rannoch was not a happy child. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his forest home with his parents and Cypress and he wanted nothing more to do with the dark-haired Leviathan.

Despite, his wishes, fate had different plans in store for the dark Benthos.

He was well aware that he was stuck here for a while but this did not mean that he couldn’t use the time to advantage. In the abundance of spare time that he had, he had been planning the other’s demise. Though such ill intentions were once very uncharacteristic of the child, they were now the a norm in his behavior. He had changed drastically since his capture and he wasn’t sure if he would ever feel quite like himself ever again.

He stirred stiffly that day as a clam, melodic voice wafted past him and willed him for an answer. Pushing his ears forward and a frown fell heavily on his lips. Despite the other’s calming disposition, he knew felt as though nobody could trust.

“What do you want?” He asked as he slowly repositioned himself so that he was facing the mouth of the den. Once he settled in a position that was sphinx-like, he remained silent and waited for the other’s answer.

the others answer was truly one she expected. she did not anticipate the other to trust her freely, though she was openly trusting. it was naive and foolish, but deirdre herself had many protectors of her interest. lurking nearby was one such wolf, and she did not so much as glance to him as rannoch spoke.

she gathered herself. i have come to see you, and to heal you, if you require it, she informed him. deirdre sucked in a small breath, and introduced herself. i am deirdre stella mayfair, málóid banríon of donnelaith. it is the forest that neighbors these shores, the girl litled; she had known his name, and so she felt it fair he know her own.

His own bitterness was met with kindness and an introduction. Though the healing aspect of her visit was quite intriguing, there was something about her name that struck out. “Deirdre?” he echoed slowly, as if attempting the recall the memory that her name was associated with. He dwelled on this matter for a few moments as he attempted to remember where he had heard the name from. He could grasp at fragments of that memory-- the fight with Cypress, the gathering of the boys in her arms-- but he couldn’t quite grasp just what the witch had to do with it all.

Frowning, he craned his neck forward in an attempt to get a better look at her, but that still did not help ring any bells.
“You’ve been mentioned to me before,” he called with a frown. “Long ago. I just can’t remember the context of it all.” He sighed and turned away slightly so he was looking to the den’s wall.

“Come in.”  

deirdre was truly surprised to hear the recognition in his voice, and because of it, she found herself inching nearer toward the den. and yet, she would not move without his consent! what she desired from him was true and legitimate trust. it could be said he would surely earn it in turn. in the darkness, there was nothing of him that she recognized, but had she looked at him in the light the pattern upon his fur would have garnered recognition, albeit vague.

you have? she queried, her interest true. the tone begged he continue, and yet, did not demand it; if he could not think of it, she would not fault him. as he turned from her, deirdre shifted her weight--but then, the invitation came!

she entered, slowly, not wanting to disturb him. does anything upon you hurt, rannoch? deirdre asked, have you any wounds? the way he lay, she could not see beneath him... and she did not yet come too close. may i come closer, to inspect you?

Her own interest urged him to attempt to recall the memory even more, but despite his best efforts he came up with nothing. “It had to have been my Mom, Eshe, who told me,” he said with a frown. “But I don’t know why she would know you.” His beloved evergreens were a few days travel from the coast and he did not see his mother as much as of a wanderer. He felt a heaviness in his heart as he recalled his memories and wondered how she was now. Was she out wandering because of him? Was she as worried sick as he assumed? He hoped not, but knew that his wishes were not what was really going on.

The next topic shifted from being mental to physical. Slowly, he turned back towards the hovering dove with a deeper frown. “No, I’m just mostly sore,” he answered. “I think I landed on my right shoulder and because of that I haven’t been able to walk.” To her next question he nodded lightly, very curious on how he would be miraculously healed.

deirdre was thoughtful as he spoke. eshe. the cogs of her memory fired into motion. she could not forget the woman she had saved, if only due to the fright the day had given her! eshe, she repeated, her tail waving. i aided her when she was with child. she was ill, long ago. there was a famine, and she worried for the life within her... i worked my magick upon her, and she felt... better, she had said. though i have not seen her since, deirdre admitted gently. she had not thought about that day in quite some time, though the boy before her reminded her of those days with the invocation of the womans name.

sore, the boy said. i know of herbs that can help with soreness. as for your limp, perhaps the water will help you in remedying this. you should be careful to not overexert yourself, she forewarned. i will assist in caring for you, until you hurt no more, she decided with a warm smile.

He was intrigued by the other’s story, allowing her to speak as he watched on with quietly. He was hooked on every word that she offered. He knew that he had no older siblings, but did this mean that this tale was about him and Cypress. His head tilted at the thought and his confusion only grew at her mention of magick. “Magick?” he asked, pushing his other thoughts aside in favor of his curiousity.

Listening closely, Rannoch nodded to what she had to say in regards to the herbs, but felt his heart freeze the moment she ushered out the mention of water. Flattening his ears and willing forward a growl, Rannoch shook his head. “I will not go in the ocean again,” he said through clamped teeth. Not even the promise of being healed would lead him to water.

yes, she breathed, magick. i was young, when i performed my spell. i did not know then that there is always a cost for the work i do... she looked thoughtful. what price had eshe paid? she feared for a moment, when last you saw her, was eshe well? she was desperate to know, truly! what if the spell had cost the woman her life, for the lives deirdre had given her...? the worry was fierce within her. but knowing the boy had not meant to ask for clarification but rather definition, deirdre explained. magick is inexplicable, and it is truly everywhere. it is forces of the supernatural, it defies what many know, deirdre wielded it; it surrounded her, even then, she imagined. perhaps he had the eye to see it, but, not all can bear witness to such a thing, and so, many do not believe in it, her brother, for one, though she did not begrudge him this, nor would she begrudge anyone without the eye.

his next words, forced and spoken in something of a snarl, were met with a patient look. ocean is not the only water there is, she reminded him, her emerald eyes soft upon him. the healing waters of donnelaith can be used when your soreness abates, and if you are willing, she offered to him. one ear cupped in his direction while the other panned slightly backward, listening and aware of all their surroundings. do you fear the ocean, now?

He was skeptical. Despite how fantastic it sounded, he just could not easily invest his thoughts into such outlandish things. He was given a break from such thoughts as the with inquired of his mother. “She’s better than ever,” he admitted weakly. Despite the cold that had ravaged her body, she had been making progress before he was stolen. Now? He didn’t have a clue. Though he did have an inkling. But, before he could voice his concerns, the topic shifted back to the fantastical wonders that were magick. He did not comment on his, despite his own concerns on the subject matter, and simply nodded.

“I do not fear it,” he said with a certain level of discomfort, his ears lowering and his frown deepening. He simply wished to never go near it again. That was all. When the waters of Donnelaith were mentioned, he turned his attention back to the healer and nodded. “But, I would prefer Donnelaith's waters,” he accepted in a deep rumble.

there was a clear and present relief upon her features when he stated that his mother was well, and her smile returned. deirdre hadn't a clue that the wolf before her was her son, and so she inquired, and her children... did they make it? her emerald eyes were alight with hope and wonder both; this wolf seemed to know her, and perhaps this was meant, him being here, to remind her of her past good deeds, to tell her of their outcome. deirdre had not been aware she wondered so! not until she came to him was her curiosity so fierce.

deirdre heard the discomfort in his voice, though truly as she did not know him well enough she could not identify what emotion his words carried! though his ears flattening were revealing, and deirdre looked to him. perhaps fear is too strong a word, she offered, but it is right to be mindful of it. it is a mysterious thing, as dangerous as it can be giving. she was quiet a moment, looking to the mouth of the den where perhaps skellige still lingered. skellige knows it intimately, perhaps if he thinks you are worthy he may teach you of it, her eyes panned to him. deirdre knew the circumstances of him being here--that perhaps he had been unwilling. that did not mean he could not still learn. it is a priceless thing, knowledge, she rose to all fours, then, and looked to him fondly.

i will bring you herbs for your soreness, and then when the moon is waxing, i will take you to donnelaith. you need rest, firstly, she said with a gentle nod of her head.

“And her children…”

There was a thoughtfulness to her tone and Rannoch tilted his head, intrigued. As far as he was aware, he and Cypress were Eshe’s only kids. “Well, I’m... “ he hesitated for a moment, his eyes darkening at the thoughts of his misfortunes. “...here.” That was suitable enough. “I also have a brother, Cypress. He’s with my parents, I assume.” There was an undertone of longing in his voice and his heart wrenched in that moment. What was Cypress doing? How was he holding up? The boys had never been separated for more than hours at a time and the distance that separated the children was slowly killing Rannoch.

With the waves at the head of their conversation, and gentle crashing in the background, Rannoch remained stiff at its mention as his frown deepened. “What if I don’t want to learn?” he countered stubbornly. “I like the woods, not the ocean.” He would always be the prince of the evergreens, after all.

To her final words he nodded, though curiosity rose from his dark facade once more. “Why when the moon is waxing? Why not tomorrow?”

deirdre's eyes brightened as he spoke. you are hers? what fortune had brought him to her! o, but what misfortune had befallen him to be here! perhaps this was the price eshe would pay for deirdre's magick, and though her heart ached for the woman deirdre was soothed to know that she, herself, was here to look after him. deirdre beheld him, then, fully; even in the dimness, there were hints of his lineage. deirdre smiled, her expression all the fonder for her newfound knowledge. the mayfair child let out a small sigh for his longing, and she hummed, i know in my heart you will see them again, though on the topic, she said no more. skellige went about things in a way she did not understand, and his tradition of taking children without their wishing it... it intrigued her. was there ever a time the child loved him for the action? respected him? did it not birth hatred rather than respect...? there was a weary look to her features that she passed onto him, that expressly said [i]do not speak any longer on this,[i] and oh, how she prayed that he would abide by it.

his inquiry caused deirdre to look at him with the tilt of her head, though she did not patronize him for his stubborness. that is unwise, deirdre informed him, for i love the forest, too; but i would not let myself be a fool, if the opportunity to learn of something i did not know of came upon me. no matter what the circumstances, knowledge can only bring one power, for there was magick in knowing! deirdre, the giver, provided him with more: there was a time when the forests were stripped to nothingness by a curse that scourged the wilds. the prey you and i know best, the creatures of the forests, had gone with the green--the ocean provided, more than the rivers, more than the lakes. it was skellige that showed me this, she informed. and then  she quieted, wondering what he might make of this, wondering if the mention of knowledge bringing one strength might appeal to him more than his hatred of a man. but he was young, and so she could not know what he would decide!

his eagerness caused her tail to wave. because your body must rest, and the herbs must take. i would not have you be in pain; you have endured much, rannoch, and i see that you are strong. but you must not be hasty, for that would be foolish and would never serve you well. when the moon waxes you will have had your rest, she hummed.

Rannoch desperately held onto the words that the sylph spoke and in turn his heart ached. He did not will any more words after that, as her look told him otherwise, and simply looked on sadly. Perhaps if she had been able to help his mother, then she could help him as well. Despite his disbelief in magick, there was something desperate within him that latched onto the ideal and the pale alpha’s ability.

He did not speak even as she elaborated on just why he should learn more of the ocean. There was a point that especially struck out to him and he held onto the idea with dear life-- “ knowledge can only bring one power”. Perhaps this would be the power he needed to get his revenge. He nodded as the thought crossed his mind and a slight smile slithered upon his snout.

Finally, he spoke. “Will you come and get me? Or should I come for you?”

the look upon his features caused a twist within her gut, and she looked to him, then, as though she knew what was in his heart. but she said nothing in regards to it then; it would not do to decide things for him. she could only give him a different course, and certainly she would! it would seem she was meant to become the proverbial angel on his shoulder, but to who would he listen to? the darkness that threatened to take hold of his heart? or the tangible alternative?

i will come for you, she hummed. rest now, rannoch, and never act in haste. watch and listen, deirdre advised. she wished to nose him, to offer an encouraging touch, but she refrained; he had seemed to warm to her, but she did not wish to push him. she adored him already, this miracle son of eshe's. it might not seem this way, but good will come of this. do not allow darkness to grip you, to change you. it is easy to let this happen, but you are stronger than that--i know this to be true. stay strong, she encouraged, before turning from him.

deirdre would then find skellige and report to him what was to be done; that, for the while, he must rest, though that there was no harm in keeping him intellectually stimulated. deirdre informed she would take him to donnelaith to reintroduce him to water, and battled any protests that might come with good sense and a doctors wisdom. she knew of the mind; she felt that skellige had caused rannoch to feel anxious, even if he did not admit it, of the ocean. there are wounds seen and unseen, she told @Skellige, before departing and i will work to heal them all. and then the work of skellige could truly begin.

Perhaps Deirdre’s warning had come too late. Or, perhaps, she had come at just the right time to save him from his impending doom. Despite all of this, a sense of darkness had already began to slink through his being. He could feel it and yet he did not resist it. Rather, he welcomed it and allowed it to make it’s natural progression. There was nothing more that he could loose in his young life and did not could not foresee a better alternative.

And yet, the queen’s words hung heavily in the air between them.

He did not speak in response to this, as he felt unable to properly respond. Instead, he simply nodded to her instructions. “I look forward to it,” sincerity lacing in the deep rumble of his baritone as he regarded her with a nod.