Night Remedy
By Nessa
September 13, 2004
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Morgan stood alone on the Shore of Latis Lake. Her gaze lifted upward toward the moon. If one could get close enough they would see in Morgan’s eyes the reflection of the Tawny Owl, Berrach soaring, silhouetted by the moon, descending at last to the gloved hand of the Fianna. The Celts believe that the owl carries the souls of the deceased back to the Land of Youth, known in this time as Avalon. But Morgan remembered when the old language called that mystical island, Tir Nan Olg. She visited there as one of the few Fianna left in the known world. She went to see her brother, Caracticus who died in battle against the Romans within Britannia. She went several times hoping not to find her sister, Killian; and again in hopes of not finding another she loved. Her hopes were realized as neither were ever there.Berrach perched motionless on Morgan’s wrist then quickly crooked her head toward the forest behind them. Morgan brought her lips close to the Tawny’s downy ear and whispered a language forgotten in the world. “I know my love. You do not hunt alone this night. There is another who stalks against her own will. I am the prey. But not against my will.” Berrach understood but continued to stare into the blackness of the forest. She could see the invisible and hear the impossible.
The Fianna’s deep brown eyes glittered from the moonlight thrown back from the lake and from the presence of the one she felt behind her. She sucked in a breath and spoke softly yet just loud enough. “Will you be my Druid? Perhaps you would rather skulk and brood like an angry child and dog my trail driven by your insatiable inner hunger? I cannot believe that of you no matter how long you choose silence between us.”
A blaze of rage and pain lit up inside her heart as Nessa emerged from the trees to stand at enough of a distance from the Fianna to prevent a strike, should she lose control. “How long I choose silence between us?” she choked incredulous. “It is my ‘insatiable inner hunger’ that kept me searching for you dead or alive; through battle after battle until my own warrior heart could tolerate the gore no more. All the while, you lived and it was you who chose the silence. You just disappeared without warning or reason!” The hurt warrior felt no shame at the tears that spilled from her eyes. At last, she could speak to Morgan. Up to now, from that most extraordinary moment within the circle of Oaks in the Land of the Faery where Nessa again laid eyes upon the home of her heart, and to find that her beloved Killian was the sister of that one and only, Morgan, she was muted, stunned and aching.
The Fianna waited before speaking. She was aware of the quaking fury in the half-wild warrior. Berrach ruffled slightly in an effort to merge with Morgan’s mind. “This one is devoted and will never hurt you,” said the Tawny telepathically. “This emotion is but a shimmer of illusion, thinly veiling the deeper shadow. Speak softly and tell the truth, Fianna.”
Morgan gazed into the red-rimmed gray eyes. She detected all the invisible wounds and knew they would heal with truth and love. She wasn't touched by anger. She was embraced by love for Nessa. “Yes, I left without word," she said barely above a whisper. "We had become famous as a team in battle and I was a target.” Morgan nearly continued. “My desire was to turn the face of the spies for Rome away from you, so I left as if death buried me beneath the bodies on the battlefield.” Morgan paused to see a glimmer of understanding in Nessa. “I was given knowledge by the Druid, Albion that Boudicca would fall under the Roman force. He knew of my living spirit of the warrior in all women. He knew also that Boudicca must not die by Roman sword or spear. Her people, the Iceni needed to believe she lived to rise up again one day. I gave her and her daughters a sleeping potion so powerful, they were all the way into the safety borders of the fierce Viking Celts when the Iceni finally fell to ruin at the hideous hands of the Roman army. Boudicca was a hard Queen to convince that her death wouldn't serve her people. I stayed with her, praying with every hope that you would live your way through and leave the land of the Iceni before it fell.”
“Did you wonder about me? Did you search?” Nessa questioned. The storm in her seemed to pass. “Did you know how I loved you?”
“Yes. I knew too, that you would have to become more Druid than warrior before I could be with you again. Battle lust
would have to be over-shadowed by reason and love for life. My sister, Killian saw to that rather well I think. I must thank you for all you have done for her.” Morgan finished this appreciative gesture just before she saw the move toward her that would tell the truth between them. One strong arm wrapped around her waist before Berrach took flight to the nearest tree branch to watch over the heated, ancient ritual between humans in love. She saw beneath the surface of things and knew with the same kind of sharpness as her own talons that this was meant to be.
Morgan~~~~~~~
Conclusion
Morgan woke from a night of lovemaking that went from rough to gentle and back to rough again. She was sitting astride Nessa’s warhorse, Tuttle. She felt that same strong arm around her waist that she felt most of the night in one way or another. This time it sustained her safely to the hot body behind her. Morgan could feel the soft silk shirt covering Nessa’s breasts, rubbing gently on the sting of her back. But more than that, her bottom and sore center shot pain through her with each move of the sure-footed warhorse. She lay her beautiful dark haired head back on Nessa’s shoulder and said softly, “I have to move somehow, Ness. I mean, I am sore and need to change positions.”
Nessa simply tightened her hold on Morgan, bent her mouth to the Fianna’s ear and said with a slight chuckle, “Oh no ye
don’t, lass. I intend for ye to be reminded of who I am to ye every step of the way back to your hut. Ye lead the Tribe and I will never interfere with that. But ye belong to me in a bond that neither of us will nor could break if we wanted and I know that is something neither of us can foresee.” Nessa looked up. She could see Berrach soaring above them. It was getting light and the Tawny Owl would lose sight in the daylight. She said, “Now, call Berrach down to ye. The sun begins to birth a new day.”Wetness spurted from Morgan’s nether region as Nessa’s refusal to allow her to move heated her with the sense of
belonging to this strong Druid/warrior. She spent whole lifetimes making all her own decisions and dreamed of the day
when there would be one such as Nessa to have for strength when she felt the need to be weak; to direct her when she
needed direction; to claim her with the fierce Celtic way of the warrior. Morgan the Fianna obeyed her Druid. She called down the Tawny with a short, light screech and smiled openly when the loyal friend swooped and landed on the arm gauntlet Nessa wore, thus acknowledging the Druid’s station with her mistress. The small owl closed her eyes against the light and slept.The location of the Fianna’s Hut was just next to Grandmothers Hut where many tribal sisters spent time eating, drinking Amazon teas and storytelling. The main kitchen was there so it was impossible to avoid being seen by the early risers smelling sizzling bacon and steamed eggs walking toward Grandmother’s Hut. It must have been a sight to remember; Queen Morgan held tightly (and looking ravished) by the one they all thought may never even speak to the Fianna; The Tawny Owl perched on Nessa’s arm gauntlet; all astride the beautiful chestnut warhorse, Tuttle, her cream colored mane cascading down her neck. Most were not sure but it did seem rather friendly of the Druid/warrior to aid the Queen in dismounting in such a close and gentle way after stopping just before the entrance to Morgan’s hut.
Killian was the first to recognize the love and contentment mingled with pure excitement vibrating between the two women. She gazed at her sister knowingly and received an expression of acknowledgement in return. The psychic’s heart hurdled within her. The sight of bright fulfillment emanating from her friend, Nessa was something she longed to see for many months now. At last, Nessa found the home of her heart. The fact that it was her very own sister pleased her immensely.
Caitlin stood beside her lover grinning as if she was not the deeply serious woman most came to know her as being. The
Druid’s happiness meant mountains of fresh air billowing into their friendship. She continued to grin as Nessa looked
over to her and dropped a wink.Kaie was getting the whole story from Tuttle. She nearly whistled out loud at the pictures the battle-mare sent to her
brain. The young horse listener pulled her attention reluctantly from Tuttle when Queen Morgan addressed the Tribe.In a strong yet slightly shaky voice, Morgan announced that there would be a celebration beginning at twilight of this day. “I have chosen my Druid Advisor and we will celebrate in the ways of our ancestors. We will also be celebrating my beautiful gift from the one who has just returned from the rite if the Dream Quest, Dera Marius. She has brought great strength to us with the many horses she called. Wear your charms; bring your hollowed sticks; your drums and flutes. Paint your faces and be prepared to dance. I will present our beloved Tribe with the Druid so needed among us.” Morgan turned to the entrance of her hut then turned back around again as a grand cheering came from the Tribe she loved so much. She took the hand of her wild Celtic lover who led her through the entrance of the cool, darkened hut. Sleep would be next and better than ever for both women. Love’s call was answered and all was well for the Tribe.
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The End - Night Remedy - by Nessa
