Motherhood, Redux

[DoS Archive]

From: morganfay@aol.com (MorganFay)
Date: 08 Jan 1999 11:37:26 EST

She had fled to Avalon, her true home she instinctively ran to whenever she was troubled. Her surprised priestesses had refrained from asking too many questions, the look on their lady's face warning enough that Morgan was not likely to enlighten them. Instead, three of them helped Morgan put together a cradle, settled the child in, and quickly left their lady with her thoughts.

She sat across from the makeshift cradle, watching him sleep. Her hand was closed, knuckles pressed lightly against her mouth. What strange gifts the gods bring, she thought. Was this Her Lady's way of telling Morgan she had become too hard? Ah, she did not know, and what would it matter knowing the way of the gods? The child was here and so was she. That would be all that mattered. She knew no one in Avalon would question; however, the people
of Rhydin would -- she had already seen the brow-raised shock on more than a few faces in the Arena. Thankfully, there was less judging and more understanding than she had expected. She vaguely remembered Summer and a few others watching over the child. She was too stunned to absorb much more. Morgan was certain many in the arena that night thought she was rude or cold, but the truth of the matter was that she had been in a mild state of shock.
She remembered also jests about changing his diaper. She smiled slightly against her knuckles and shut her eyes.

She felt rather than heard Nimue as she entered the room. She had walked over to the cradle, laid a serene hand on the child's head and looked down at him. No words passed between the women for a long moment; instead, they only focused energy on the child.

Nimue finally broke the silence, her sweetly soft and feminine voice a contrast against Morgan's low husky voice. "He is not a normal boy," she said simply. Morgan nodded and waited to see what else Nimue would confirm. Nimue looked intently at the sleeping boy and asked idly, "Is what he said true?"

Without hesitation, Morgan replied, her voice betraying some of the stress she was under, "If he says I am his mother, who am I to deny it?" Nimue arched a fine blonde brow, indicating she noted the dodging of the question.

"And what of his other claim?" Nimue probed.

"Impossible," Morgan hissed sharply.

Nimue lifted her head, smoothing golden hair from her face. She looked to Morgan, blue eyes catching green, and charged, "if you cannot remember the birth, then perhaps you cannot remember the conception."

The room instantly filled with crackling energy -- Morgan's darkly hot and tempestuous nature seeming to flare out about her, whipping against her, as if to build up to a frenzy before lashing out to strike at Nimue's unflappable serene iciness. Nimue lifted a hand tiredly, "Stop, I am only saying what you will hear out there. I know he cannot be the father." Her attention returned to the sleeping boy.

Morgan slumped into the chair, her ire denied. "He has claimed me…." her voice trailed off for a moment, surprise clear on her face as she continued, "and I am happy!" She lifted her head proudly and smiled.

Nimue smiled as well and replied, "Do not all children claim who will be their mother? The child is fortunate, for all a baby could ask for when claiming a mother is that she welcomes him with joy and love in her heart."

Morgan's smile deepened and she nodded. "So shall it be. I am blessed with another son."

At that moment, the baby woke up and Morgan was there, instantly, to pick him up. She smiled warmly at him as his chubby hands touched her face, turning so he could see the priestess. "Nimue du Lac, I introduce to you my son, Ryan of Avalon."

Nimue bowed her head and murmured, "I am honored, Ryan of Avalon. We all have much to learn."