The Babe

by

IrishCreme

Let me tell you a tale of the blessed birth of a gifted child, the
possessiveness that threatened her and the selfless love that saved her…

Conor held out his daughter proudly to the clan. "Behold your princess
and first child to the royal family, Torianya!" Wild applause swept
through the Sidhe. "Maven and I greatly appreciate all the wonderful
gifts and blessings you have bestowed upon Torianya and hope that they
return to you hundred-fold. Now, if you’ll excuse us," Conor handed the
newborn to her mother, "we’d like to spend some time alone with our
first child."

Conor followed Maven into their chambers, playfully tugging at her lush
red hair. "I pray Torianya looks like you, dearest wife, instead of her
brutish father."

Maven laid her daughter gently into the bassinet and turned to her
husband. "Would I have married an ogre, Conor? I think not! Our child
will be blessed with good looks because both of her parents are
extremely handsome. No doubt about that." Maven softly twirled a tiny
lock of Torianyna’s red hair between her fingers. "I can’t wait for her
wings to grow."

Conor joined his wife by the bassinet and admired their first born with
her. "Great things are in store for our child, Maven. She will
influence many people. This I already know."

Indeed, Torianya (whom all called Tori) grew into a beautiful lady. So
much so that suitors literally fought to win her hand in marriage.
Bards already sang songs about her rich red tresses, mesmerizing blue
eyes, milky smooth skin and, above all, her voice. Torianya had the
voice of a Siren, for when she sang, anyone within earshot was drawn to
her, hypnotized by her honey-sweet melodies. She excelled at many
different instruments and loved to dance. Torianya was the pride of her
parents’ eyes and the desire of every man’s heart. This, in time,
became exceedingly dangerous for the princess.

"These threats worry me, Conor," Maven said anxiously, wringing her
hands in the skirt of her gown. "Would anyone really kill Tori?"

Conor shook his head. "Tis something I would never imagine, but if
someone was jealous enough, I suppose he might kill Tori just so that no
other man could have her."

"That is human nature, not fae!" Maven protested.

"But you are wrong, wife," he corrected. "Faeries suffer from the same
emotions as humans and react in similar ways. Do not assume by our
superiority that we have no faults." Conor paced the chambers, sinking
deeper into thought. "What are we to do?"

"I do not want to risk her life, Conor. Tori means more to me than my
own life. We were granted only one child, and I will not see her
murdered by jealous rage!"

Conor nodded and stepped in circles. Suddenly, an idea came to him. It
was not one of which he was particularly fond, but it would spare Tori’s
life. "She must be transformed."

"What are you talking about?"

"She must be borne of a human and live her life in their realm. It’s
the only way we can assure she will not die by fae hands, the only way
we can protect her from the growing jealousies in our realm."

Maven dropped her head, tears dripping from her haunting blue eyes. She
did not want to part with her daughter, but neither did she want her to
befall the fate that was rumored of her. "But she will forget
everything. What of her true heritage, Conor? Tori must always know
who she really is!"

"It may take time, but she will find her true self again, Maven. She
will remember." Conor stroked Maven’s soft hair, fighting back his own
tears. "Fetch Torianya," he called to a passing faerie. "Tell her it’s
urgent."

As Conor and Maven waited for their daughter, they consoled each other
in the realization that they were sending their only child away, far
away, where they could no longer care for her. Tori fluttered into her
parents’ chambers within a few minutes, flushed from her flight. "You
wanted to see me?"

Conor nodded and approached his daughter. "You are aware of the threats
on your life, Tori." She nodded solemnly. "Your mother and I will not
stand by and wait for tragedy to happen. We are taking matters into our
own hands." Conor cupped his hands and began chanting an ancient
incantation. Swirling glittery lights enveloped Tori and began lifting
her into the air.

"What are you doing, Father?" Her eyes were wide with confusion as she
fought to release herself from the spell’s grasp.

"Always remember that we love you," Maven sobbed, brushing tears from
her cheeks.

"And we will always be watching you," Conor added, unable to restrain
his tears. They fell in long rivulets down his face. Throwing his arms
into the air, the whirlwind of colors that had held Tori exploded in a
flash, leaving only a cloud of glitter in its wake. Torianya was gone.

Maven fell into Conor’s open arms and wailed without inhibition. He
rested his chin on her head and prayed that they had made the right
decision.

And what of Torianya? She was born into a loving human family. Her
name changed, as did her lifestyle, but one thing remained constant: her
voice. But what about Conor’s predictions? Has Tori found her true
self again? Has she influenced people’s lives? Only Tori knows for
sure, but I think she has.

*please send any comments or questions to IrishCreme tatertot@neosoft.com