Arianrhod was checking the dead bodies for weapons of great power or trinkets and Fionn saw her victorious. She was covered in splattered blood and she looked back at him. Her mask of blue only covered around her eyes and he felt as though he had been gutted.

“Why did you leave me behind? Am I not trustworthy to you?” Fionn spat out in anger.

“In all honesty Bràthair; I was certain you would stop me from fighting because I carry your babe.” She answered bluntly.

“So you left me out because for once I want something so fucking much; I would have begged my Queen Piuthar not to go! I would go against all we are; who you are and who I am because I want the babe in your belly more than I have wanted to live!” Thunder incarnate shouted in semi-rage.

“I knew that Fionn. These Undine are of the exact same clan as Nwyvre’s was. They have not made moves in over five hundred years in this plane. I found it odd and they slaughtered my mortal worshipers!” Arianrhod cried.

“What of the human?” He asked calmer and his arms were crossed across his sculpted chest.

“I ordered him cremated lavishly and given a holy vessel in which to hold his remains. I have also extended his family’s farm so that they will raise in rank in their village.” She spoke with her chin up.

“Quick thinking. We warriors will finish cleaning this up. Please go to Whitich Hold.” He asked his ruler.

“Of course Bràthair.” The Silver Wheel sighed.

Arianrhod stepped back and she saw into his mind the small keep that was all his and she phased there. It was some time and as she stared at the tall grass in the fields. She remembered playing here as a child and her beloved Fionn coming to court only the year before. She was eight and he had been six but Arianrhod was already a queen but she had regents at the time. Gwydion was with her half the time and they tried to keep the twins separated sometimes because they were either best friends or tearing each other up. Arianrhod was the elder born by a full day and she laid the side of her head on the brick window casing. She sat looking and remembering.

“Tag! You are it Fionn Hammel. Come find me!” Her girlish voice sang over the fields.

“You are stupid Arianrhod Hammel!” The little boy with white blonde hair said in Faroese and Gaelic jumbled, staring at her with a nasty look on his cherub face.

She laughed softly and came out covered in mud. She threw a small ball of it with her air and it splattered all over Fionn. He looked up at her with a furious glint in his dark, hazel eyes.

“You may be a queen but I am a prince! Say you are sorry brat!” Little Fionn glared at his older sister.

Her smirk was genuine and he wanted an apology? She told him in his mind to make her give him one. The little Scandinavian half ekimmu ran after her and whaled on her ass but she adored him. They slept in the same bed and he did not understand why he had to be with “her” as he put it.

“The Little Queen always sleeps with a sibling; a sister or brother; strange child.” An elder ekimmu told him.

Arianrhod had on her night clothes and Fionn refused to look at the mean girl. She was playing with his white hair and he began to actually growl.

“What is wrong?” She demanded.

“Sorry my hair is white. I know it should be...