Title: Tara and Willow – The Blessed Unrest – Chapter Fourteen Author: Katharyn Rosser Feedback: Absolutely, yes please. That’s why I write for this place, to engage in the discussion about the story. Spoiler warning: Not sure why I am bothering, really, but nothing much apart from the episode ‘Hush’ in S4. And let’s face it, if you’ve not seen that then… what are you doing here? Distribution: This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens and the Kitten Board please. No conversion to eBook or other formats please. Enjoy it here. Story notes: Tara’s background is different to that presented in Family and instead based on a throwaway remark made in interviews around the time Family first aired. (Though I now realise not the precisely terminology used there) Summary: No, we’re not following up directly on the end of the last part. Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc. I am making no money from this series of stories however all original characters and situations remain my property. As this is a missing scenes and alternate reality fiction lots of scenes are new versions of those seen in the show, as such dialogue and situations are taken from the show. I’m sure you can tell which. All credit for those aspects goes to the original writers. The title ‘The Blessed Unrest’ came from and belongs to Sara Bareilles from the album of the same name. Rating: Occasional, tasteful, adult situations and contextual bad language. However by and large equivalent to the show. Couples: Tara and Willow forever, that’s all I’m bothered about. Text convention: Use of italics denotes either special emphasis if used for a single or a few words in a sentence OR first person thoughts if used for a whole sentence. Notes: So the redrafting exercise has shown that not only is there a definite lack of discernible plot, but I am – in fact – an enormous tease. Funnily enough this is only something that shows up in my writing where I evidently have much more patience than in real life where I’m more likely to be the teasee than the teaser. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about other stories and other writing and can see that – maybe – one of my planned T/W stories (which would work really great for them) is instead something that is potentially sellable… I’m therefore thinking of writing it without the benefit of the Buffyverse and the T/W relationship behind it. That’s sad in a way, but might help me get somewhere I still want to go. And hey, I can always do the reverse of what that 50 Shades woman did and find replace character names back to fanfic (of course hers started out with sparkly vampires…) I’m curious, since I think of it, I often start a chapter by coming in right in the middle of a conversation. How does that strike you as readers? Good thing? Bad thing? Hadn’t noticed? I only really do it in Tara and Willow stories because I feel like I can here… Of course, I just realised that! Thanks to: Anyone who can stand a tease and keep coming back for more.
“We said that yesterday,” she reminded Tara. “We said that the day before. And we said that for most of last week.”
“Today for sure,” Tara said “Today I’ve got it planned.”
Yeah, Tara had her number now. Appealing to her sense of planning? If she hadn’t been crazy-beautiful, wonderful and just Tara then ‘planning’ thing would still really have done a number on her.
Was this a downside to having a girlfriend who got you in a very real way?
No… Somehow still struggling to see the bad. But now that planning had been mentioned she simply had to know.
“Planned? What do you have planned? Polite interrogation?” she asked. “Very reasonable, un-intrusive questions? Pointed but not-at-all rude queries?”
“All of those,” Tara confirmed with a smile. “Another slice?”
She waved the offer away, she was already stuffed. “Here’s something – something else - that’s been bothering me. Why, if we’ve just been eating fruit and drinking strangely nutritious water for weeks now haven’t we got bored with it?”
Okay, the first time she’d described it she’d said – unfortunately – it was like ‘an orgasm in my mouth’ but even that would get old… wouldn’t it? Depended on just how filthy minded you were, she supposed.
Tara started to answer, but she held up her hand. “And I’ve not finished,” she continued, “I shouldn’t, but I have to wonder why haven’t there been… Okay, I’m going to put it in a nice way. Why haven’t there been digestive effects? Not to get too personal but… I’m just fine.”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Tara said.
“Which means you must be just fine too.” Of course, there was probably a line with anyone – girlfriend and boyfriend alike – where you didn’t ask that kind of question.
“No – I mean, yes… But – But bored? Really? Who could get bored of papple?”
“Apparently not us. Or Miri. Good morning!”
“Good morning, Tara and Willow,” the girl said in that slightly playful, slightly formal way that she had.
“That’s a very pretty dress you have on today,” Tara said.
It was also the first time they’d ever seen her wearing something other than the first outfit they’d seen her in. On an adult, it might well have appeared more scandalous than practical. It was also mostly backless – of course - to leave her wings free but on the girl it really was very pretty.
Which raised a point that they really had no idea how old Miri might be? She might easily be older than both of them put together. “Thank you. So is yours,” Miri said to Tara, then looked at hers. “Yours is not as pretty, Willow.”
“What did I do?” she asked realising that – somehow – she’d come out underdressed for some occasion she hadn’t known about and never even suspected might exist since every day was much like every other here.
Tara couldn’t have known either, otherwise she’d definitely have said something. But had Tara some innate sense? This was – almost certainly – her place. So, of course, she was dressed appropriately.
“Today is a special day,” Miri said, confirming her worst fears.
Special enough that Miri was puffed up and proud of herself for some – as yet unknown – reason.
“Oh?” And I’m supposed to be dressed for it? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why isn’t there a calendar with ‘special day’ marked on it? And ‘Willow, wear a nice outfit’ written underneath that.
And what’s wrong with this anyway?
Probably it was just because Tara wasn’t wearing. If they’d been wearing each other’s clothes, Miri would’ve preferred whatever Tara was in.
“Yes.”
“Special? Why? Are you going to show us something?” Tara asked, only teasing a little. Miri always had something to show them. Showing them things was what she did.
“No. I am not.”
Okay, that was… new. Miri had shown them something new every day and there didn’t seem to be any end to the number of things she could – and would – show them. From desperate, make-you-cry beauty in a butterfly’s wings to the majesty of a panorama that you’d cross half a world to see back home and end up surrounded by tourists just like yourself.
Not here though.
Tara’s point, this morning, had been to get her to show them a way to find out how to get home. Not the way itself, just how they could find out for themselves.
Or somehow show them what the rules were that would let that happen.
Or… something useful towards that end.
Something vaguely useful, so they could feel like they were making some – other – kind of progress.
They hadn’t kept an exact count of the days and nights but they could be fairly certain that a little more than a month had passed. By now everyone at home… Well, they’d have probably got over their frantic efforts to find them and accepted that they weren’t coming back. Or that they couldn’t because… Yeah, they probably thought they were dead.
It was Sunnydale, after all.
While that wasn’t a pleasant thought, it did take something of the pressure off. They didn’t have to get home to stop other people worrying about them – unnecessarily as it happened. The best they’d be able to do now was say ‘hi, actually we’re not dead and I’m now we and we’re a couple and did I mention we’re not dead?’
Mostly they just had to get home… well, because it was home. Beautiful and wondrous as this place was, it didn’t have that particular quality. Not for Tara either.
Home was a place where a romantic dinner wasn’t just papple by starlight. Lasagne maybe. Steak. Oysters? Oysters sounded like… there might be benefits, even though she’d never tried.
Home was where a girl could put on a little makeup – just a little – for her girl.
Home was books and computers and college and learning in a traditional sense –
Home was other people.
Just last night, she’d been thinking that it was time that Tara met Mom and Dad. And Xander though… the lesbian conversation might get him a little over-excited so she might have to break that to him upfront, so he didn’t spoil anything when he did meet Tara.
And then there was Buffy who… Sorry, but Buffy was going to need to find a new roommate. Probably… even if moving in seemed a little premature there, it was basically what they’d been doing here for all this time. The idea of not falling asleep and waking up next to Tara by now seemed…
Weird and uncomfortable to contemplate.
But how would I stay warm?
And now that they were content to find their way around to that last, nebulous, base when it happened… There were no questions they hadn’t been able to answer for each other. No reasons not to.
They ate together. Explored together. Washed and dressed together. Slept together. Didn’t sleep but were in bed together. Enjoyed each other’s… touch. Kiss. More touch. Good touch. Never a bad touch. Kiss. Touch…
I’ve really got to get past what a simple caress from her does to me… Not stop it, just get past it so I can have another thought. In some circumstances, that could really be important.
And the great thing was that they also knew when to go find space away from each other and neither of them minded. Before, with that other person who shall remain un-thought of, taking time for herself had seemed… Well, he’d driven over and made an effort and all.
Not here. Not with Tara. Alone time here was… really complete. Really, really alone. It was also precious and good for them both. A few hours here and there…
They pretty much had everything worked out as perfectly as you could want it to.
So what all this was leading to was the question of why couldn’t they move in with each other when they got back? In fact, it only made sense to do exactly that. Buffy was out all hours and especially at times when she’d want to be… in.
With Tara.
Possibly, in some ways they’d not yet fully explored, in Tara.
“So why is today special?” she asked Miri, dragging herself away from the distraction. “Why aren’t you showing us something?”
“Today it is not about you. Today I am bringing someone to see you.”
“You’re showing us to someone else?” she asked, surprised. All this time and… Well, they’d known that there must be more people here. Miri’s family at the very least. But they’d never really gotten her to talk about them. Almost like they didn’t play as big a part in her life as you’d have expected for a twelve year old back home.
Of course, it’d been a while since twelve year olds went off in the woods on their own back home. Especially in Sunnydale because… hey, Sunnydale.
And, yes, remember that she could be decades or centuries older than them. Just because she looked twelve…
“Yes. Because I found you, I get to be the one to show them.” Then Miri faltered in her enthusiasm. “Is that alright? I always have to ask. Sometimes I forget though. Sometimes.”
“Always – Wait, do you mean that you ask the animals and the things you take us to see?”
“Of course.” Miri made it seem like it would’ve been bad manners not to and that she was slightly offended that they wouldn’t think she had good manners.
“And… they answer you?”
Once again, that was apparently a silly question. “Of course they do. So – is it alright that I bring someone to see you?” Miri pressed. “Please?”
“Who - ” she started to ask, but Tara was answering too. “Of course it is, Miri. You’ve shown us so much. It’d be an honour for you to show us to someone else.”
The girl whirled around them which was scarier than it probably seemed in your mind when you thought about it. After all, a twelve year old girl isn’t exactly small and she was moving very quickly.
Oh, and she was flying.
Of course, Miri was also very nimble and never collided with anything. Not that they’d seen anyway.
Tara gave her a look and she realised that this was – perhaps – what they’d been waiting for. Someone who’d answer the kind of questions Miri never, quite, understood. Or if she understood wasn’t able to verbalise an answer to in a way that made sense to them.
Too many things were just obvious to Miri. It’d probably be no different if their roles had been reversed, especially at that younger – mental - age.
At least Miri had never said ‘Duh’ to them. She couldn’t have guaranteed she wouldn’t have in her place when trying to explain how electricity worked or video games or what the World Wide Web was, down to its very base concepts.
Yeah, Miri has far more patience than I would in her place.
“When will they be here?” she asked.
“Soon! I will go and bring them to you.”
“Well, okay then.”
“Will you wait here?” Miri asked, seeming a little nervous. Like they might move and spoil her plans to show them off. To be the guide who knew everything.
“Right here,” she promised.
Was this how Miri operated? Finding something to show them and cajoling it into staying in place until she could deliver the observer to them? If so… it was a neat trick. Probably not such a challenge with a fallen tree or a vista. But did unicorns feel the same way?
Miri – apparently – knew the answer.
“Thank you!” Miri zipped off, faster than they’d ever seen her move before.
“Every day,” Tara said. “Every day, she finds a way to make us forget to ask what we wanted to.”
“She doesn’t make us,” she replied, setting aside that suspicion right away. “We just do… This place is magical that way. But I wouldn’t stay here forever. Not if there’s a choice.”
But if there was no choice at all, and it was with Tara? There’d be things – lots of things – she’d miss. But it wouldn’t be so bad.
“I know what you mean,” Tara said. “Not even with you.”
She didn’t take offence at that. Not at all. Because it was perfectly obvious that the place had nothing to do with them being together. If everything had happened a different way, they’d still have found each other.
How do I know that? I just do.
“Maybe this new visitor will be able to explain how we got here? How we could get home?” she suggested.
“I hope so.”
“But when we find out – Even then – Just a minute ago, I was thinking that – really - we probably don’t need to… hurry?”
Tara looked at her, weighing that up. “I think, m-maybe you’re right – if there’s no time pressure on it. I don’t think we necessarily have to rush. Not as such. Better to do it right, you know? Make sure of our facts, so we don’t end up somewhere else we didn’t expect?”
“Or China.”
“China? Why China?”
“Somewhere far away, even if we got home – we could end up somewhere other than Sunnydale – with no money and in the middle of a much less friendly landscape. It’s really better to invest the time, like you said.”
Tara, realising her new worries, kissed her. Which was just as good enough of a distraction as was required. Better, probably.
Kisses led to kisses and the occasional wandering hand and before they knew it, time had passed and they could hear the same excited talk they were very familiar with approaching before they heard the buzz of the wings that carried the speaker her.
Miri was back, guiding someone to see them. The latest attraction. It ended the kisses and the hands but they didn’t move apart. If Miri wanted to show them off, then they could be a ‘them’. What they were. A couple.
“At least today we don’t have to walk far,” she commented as Miri came back into the glade that – in another place – had been the campus coffee shop.
Here… it was the place you felt more awake than anywhere else. Go figure.
They both looked, trying to see who Miri had brought back with her but obviously the girl had rushed on ahead. Usually it was them she was ahead of, impatient with those who stuck to the ground and couldn’t quite forget that they were usually barefoot – even though they very rarely got stuck with anything too sharp. (And Tara never did.)
“I am here,” Miri said, with some ceremony. It was interesting to be on the receiving end.
“Hello, Miri. Have you brought someone to see us?”
“Yes, Tara. Willow. I have. I’ve brought my friend, Niamh.”
Riding into the glade on the back of a pure white horse – no saddle and no reins – was…
No. That couldn’t be right.
She looked at Tara. Looked at the young woman on the horse. No… way…
Which was why it was almost a relief when Miri finished her introductions.
“Niamh, this is Willow. And this is Tara. Tara’s the one I was telling you about. Your sister!”
--------------------------
Wait.
What?
She was pretty sure that Miri had just said… Sister?
While she was struggling with that, the woman introduced as Niamh had dismounted and come to stand in front of her. And it was like looking in a strange mirror. Not quite a fairground, not distorted. The same but not.
The features were very familiar and Niamh’s eyes were like… No, it wasn’t a mirror – really more like looking at a photograph. One of…
Willow, meanwhile, hadn’t missed it at all. “Sisters? You have a sister, Tara? You didn’t mention a sister. I’d have paid attention if you’d said anything about a sister. But not because she’d be as – Shutting up now. You don’t want to hear what I was about to say.”
“I d-don’t have a sister,” she said quietly, but she was talking to Niamh rather than Willow.
Niamh who looked so very like…
“Beg to differ,” Willow said. “But you look – wow… Her hair’s a different - ”
“That’s my natural colour,” she said, staring into too-familiar eyes while Niamh did the same.
“You dye your hair?” Willow asked, shocked. “Oh. Wait… I kinda missed the part where your roots were starting to show. Honestly, I do pay attention but - you do dye your hair – wait, why do you dye your hair when it looks like that? Chestnut’s a great look on you – her – your sister – did I mention that you never mentioned a sister?”
She hadn’t turned her attention away from the strange reflection stood before her. Still. Silent. Saying nothing at all. But calm while she was in shock and Willow did her babble thing.
Shock that made it easier to engage with Willow than her supposed sister.
“Oh, you know,” she said absently. “I was coming to college. They said blondes have more fun.”
“You were looking for fun?”
“I – I guess.”
“And what do you know,” Willow replied. “It worked. I mean, I think I am more fun. Aren’t I more fun than you were having – Don’t answer that – Your sister, huh? So how did that work?”
Neither of them were getting past that anytime soon, even though Willow was trying hard. Probably out of sympathy. She could babble for all the sweetest and best reasons. It was still adorable.
Looking at Niamh – who still hadn’t said anything – it was quickly clear that they weren’t as alike as it’d first appeared. There were little differences like, oh, slightly – but noticeably - pointed ears.
That was one really big difference but… the eyes.
Everyone told her that she had… That her eyes were very like Momma’s. But it was only when she looked into Niamh’s that she’d ever thought that. Maybe that was something about looking at yourself in a mirror, maybe they were the same. Maybe this Niamh really did have Momma’s eyes.
Because that was what they were saying, wasn’t it? Not that her Dad had another child with someone because… no. Momma. They were laying this at her door. And… she didn’t know how she felt about that. What did basic biology tell her?
That it might turn out, when the confusion passed, that she was a little angry about it.
What was being implied, even if no one had said it. No one else might even have thought it yet. Willow didn’t know enough about Momma… But for her… it was there. An uncomfortable truth. Just lurking.
“I told you!” Miri was clearly very pleased with herself. “I told you that you were both the same!”
It was obvious that Miri was talking to Niamh who was now walking around her, looking at her from every angle. It was a little different, being the one who was being shown off, rather than the one who’d been guided here.
“Yes, you did, Miri,” Niamh said when they were face to face again.
“You don’t sound alike,” Willow said. “But why would you – one of you is from here and the other is from… Wow. Two Tara’s. Or… two Niamh’s, depending on your point of view. Wow. Two of everything. Four of some things… Wait, I don’t – I didn’t say that. That was… the surprise talking. That’s all it was. So, sisters – wow! Let’s talk about that.”
“Your mate is a little strange,” Niamh said, the first words her alleged sister ever said to her and she picked those?
‘Mate’ was more than likely what Miri had told her though.
“She’s not – Yes. Yes, she is.”
Even though she wouldn’t have chosen that particular term – ‘strange’ - it seemed pointless denying what Willow was to her. So long as no one used it to - say - introduce Willow to her Dad. But… here?
Sister?
Really?
“Are you – Am I your sister?”
“Perhaps not from your point of view. But as I think of these things,” Niamh said. “Yes, you are, Tara. And I think it’s very nice to meet you.”
“You think it is?”
“Is that not what you say?”
“I – I guess. So you knew – I mean, and you – but you knew about me?”
“Not you, exactly – but yes, I did.”
“B-but – How can I be your sister? You have…” She touched her ears.
“No one here will judge you for your deformity,” Niamh promised with every sincerity.
Not, exactly, what she’d meant. And certainly not – not that word. But… Niamh may well have magically picked up her English from Miri who’d picked it up from her or…? Did they speak English here anyway? “No – I mean – We’re different. But… similar.”
“Yes.”
“And this doesn’t surprise you?” she asked. “Does it? Not at all.”
“No.”
“May I ask… umm, why?”
“Because I have always known about you,” Niamh said. “But from what Miri has said, I suspect you’ve had no idea about me. Or even this place? Do you know how you come to be here?”
“No… we – we never really managed to get Miri to even tell us where we are.”
Niamh nodded. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s only young. And she has no family in the other places.”
“Other places?” Willow asked.
“Where you came from,” Niamh replied. “But now you’re here. Now you’re home.”
“Oh – wait - ?”
“Home?” Willow asked.
-----------------------------
“So… Miri, does this happen a lot?” Willow asked. There were too many things to worry about. Too many things to keep an eye on. Like watching Tara walk with Niamh while also watching out for the big, bitey white horse that the alterna-Tara had rode in on.
Because, who needed a horse that big? Really?
Especially not if you were Tara sized.
After all, that was a lot of straddling.
Hmm… interesting thoughts. But… Focus on the conversation, Rosenberg.
“There’s always a celebration,” Miri said, unaware of her caution or where that had led her. “But I’ve only seen one. Once upon a time there were a lot of people from your place here and – someone like me could visit your world. Not now.”
“Oh. Wait. There’s a party?” That didn’t sound too bad.
The girl nodded, her wings buzzing faster even though she stayed in place.
“Will there be cake?” she wondered.
“What’s cake?”
She smiled. “Oh, Miri, Miri, Miri. Let me tell you about cake.”
----------------------------
“No, Niamh. I know who – I know who my parents are. Both of them.”
“Nonetheless.”
“I’m not from here.”
“Not this place, specifically, no. But one like it. Not so far away. No more than a few days ride.”
“I was born in Saint Bartholomew’s hospital. Just a little place, but in Montana. In the USA.” she said and then thought maybe she needed to be still more specific. “Earth!”
“I don’t know what any of that is. Everything else is just another place to us. But no matter what you think, you came from here.”
“I’ve never been here in my life, until now…” This part wasn’t true, she might have thought it was a trick but it was clear that Niamh believed it too. So if it was, then it wasn’t Niamh’s trick.
More likely it was a mistake or… something. Maybe someone else was Niamh’s sister. Because it wasn’t her.
“You and your mate, you were in danger and you found yourself here?” Niamh asked, changing tack.
“She’s – we - How did you know - ? We didn’t tell Miri - ”
“It’s how it usually happens,” Niamh said. “Some go their whole lives and never have cause to come back here. No need to create a safe place for themselves. Others – like you – you come home. It’s in your… nature? Is that the word?”
“Create?”
“This,” Niamh said, gestured in an expansive arc around them. “All of this, came from your mind.”
“But - ”
“You have that power, you created it – I’m sure you recognise features shared with your world, at the start – at the heart of it? Things I’ve never seen before – things that excite Miri, perhaps? But then the forest?”
“Yes. This has happened before?”
“Less and less,” her so-called sister explained. “But yes. It still happens. Your mother was one of us, Tara. Denial won’t make it less true.”
“My mother? What about your mother? If we’re sisters wouldn’t they have to be the same – and how can you be if we’re almost the same age?”
“It’s… perhaps more complicated for you to understand than I,” Niamh said. “In that other place, how would you and your mate have a child?”
“Willow – we’re not – Well, we – wouldn’t. Not together. Not that was a part of both of us. We’d need – umm, someone else.” Did she need to get into the practical elements of the birds and the bees?
“How… barbaric. I’d heard tell of the like, but never expected to meet anyone who existed that way.”
“Why? What happens here?” she asked, having a feeling that she might not want to know the answer.
“Love,” Niamh said.
“Love creates a child? Just love. No… umm… interconnecting bits?”
“If one is desired. And is that how it is there?”
“So – So I hear. So… what happened – how are we sisters?”
“Our mothers loved.”
“My Mom wasn’t - ” like me – “she loved my Dad,” she said. People could have affairs or flings or periods of time they were unhappy together. But… she wasn’t ready to hear that Mom had cheated on Dad just before…
No. Not before. During. They’d been married for a couple of years before having her… No.
“I have no doubt.”
“And he is my Dad, isn’t he?” They couldn’t take that away too. Mom was gone and now this girl was trying to tell her that Dad wasn’t her father? Was that it? Trying to tear apart the world she knew – that was currently so far away.
Was Niamh trying to make her not want to go back? Because she was going to be surprised. She was going home, because she wanted to. Because Willow wanted to. And she was going with Willow.
“Please, do not distress yourself, Tara. I told you – it’s more complicated and yet simpler too. Your mother was one of us. Once upon a time, she and my mother held affection for each other. They did not mate, if that is what distresses you.”
Oh.
“Then… how?”
“I told you, love. Perhaps we have been talking about something we understand differently?”
It was possible.
“Your mother came back to us, one last time. I was told about it. There was a lot of sadness. She had… chosen to stay with your father. Her mate. She had a child already but… she wanted to leave something here and take something of here with her. My mother was her oldest friend, the one she missed the most. They’d grown up together. Done everything together until she’d left…
“Of course they decided that to celebrate that love.”
“Love – just love - creates children here?”
“It’s mating in that other place, isn’t it? From how you talk? It has another significance beyond the physical?”
She nodded. “A man and a woman – I suppose they should love each other, but they don’t have to.”
Niamh shivered, plainly not at all happy with the idea.
“My Dad? Is he…?”
“Part of you?” Niamh asked and she nodded. “I don’t know. Perhaps, it’s not unheard of – he didn’t have to be here. But we’re paired, you and I. Sisters created from the same love. The same respect and affection. The same decision most of all. You might still be part of him, in that place. But here… There were only two people responsible for your birth. Our mothers. We don’t rely on the random rutting of mating to create life.”
“So you don’t – umm…?” There’s no way I can say ‘rut’ to her.
“Of course we do,” Niamh said with a smile. “I have a mate of my own – you would call him a good man, I hope. But if he and I – or anyone else – decided to create a new life, it would be a decision and a choice. Not a question of – what do you call it? Interconnecting parts?”
“It almost sounds better.” Much better then ‘rutting.’
“Perhaps it is. I’ve distressed you, made you sad – Please excuse me, I didn’t mean that at all.”
“This is… a lot,” she explained. “It’s just that this is… Everything I thought I knew, isn’t there anymore.”
“You’ve come home, Tara. Did you know that my mother’s name is Tara?”
“No… You hadn’t mentioned it.” Neither did she.
“She’s gone now,” Niamh said.
“So… So’s my Mom.”
“They’d lived full lives - ”
“My Mom,” she said. “She was – she was far too young.”
“Perhaps in your world, Tara. Here… before she met your father, she’d lived a full life here.”
Was that… better? No, it was still too soon. Because we lost her.
“Did… did she die because she came to – went to my world?” she wondered.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. Perhaps not. I don’t think anyone can say.”
But she had her suspicions. Mom was… older. Much older than she thought she’d been, but then, she’d always had that sense of her. Looking back, her friends in school had Mom’s who seemed barely more than kids themselves. She was nearly their age now… But Mom?
No… she’d always seemed older, more mature than her years suggested. Until now she’d always thought that was just because she was… Mom. But was it possible everything Niamh was saying was true?
Perhaps that was the wrong question. Perhaps she should be wondering if it was possible that it wasn’t.
“If she’d come back here – might she still be alive?” she asked.
Had choosing their world made Momma sick? Had staying there condemned her?
Staying with us.
“She’s still with us,” the other girl said. “Both of them are. We’re all we have of them.”
“And what are we?” she asked, unable to dismiss what she was being told. In the same way that loving Willow had just… clicked, so this seemed just as true. Invisible until now but self-evident and obvious when you knew about it. “Who am I?”
“You’re Tara. And you’re my sister.”
“And who are you – I mean, what are we?”
“We call ourselves Aes Sidhe, but in your tongue we’re more often known as Wood Nymphs.”
*************************
_________________ ------------------------- If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.
Chance in *Chance* -------------------------
Last edited by Katharyn on Wed Mar 04, 2015 8:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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