Spinning Fate's Threads

Tazzy: Sorry, couldn't help throwing Isaak and Catherina together. I love odd couples.

Metranome: Be careful what you wish for. Some of my stories have been known to exceed fifty chapters. Thank you for such lovely words of praise. I'm very flattered.

DarkCrusnikMagician: Yes, it probably would egg him on. You know how Isaak loves to be smacked around anyway. I'm glad you like the descriptions, I'm usually not very good at those.



To everyone still reading, I hope you enjoy.



*****





Abel sat on the edge of his bed thinking hard over what he had seen and been told earlier in the night. It seemed as though a thousand and one things had been piled on him at once and he needed to sort through the vast majority of them. For some reason unfathomable to him he’d had no qualms whatsoever with sitting at Cailleach’s feet and listening to her speak. He had rested his head on her knees and she’d stroked his hair much like a grandmother would her grandchild, even though her words frightened him and made him more than a little uncomfortable. He could see that what she had said concerning him making his own misery had several valid points. He had refused to move through the grief for centuries. He had heaped nearly a millennium worth of guilt and self denial on his own head.



He put one arm over his eyes and flopped back onto the bed. Everything was so strange to him here. He had met dignitaries from several strains of the Sidhe and a myriad of assorted other creatures from all realms of that world. He shook his head as best he could. There truly was more in the world than he had ever or would ever hope to see in his long lifetime. The fact that he was just beginning to realize it disturbed him somewhat and made him inwardly cringe at all the things he had deliberately missed by being so entrenched in self abuse.



He chuckled a little upon remembering parts of what Hunt had called the pre-party Par-tay. He hadn’t been required to dance but they had told him he would be expected to after his adoption into that world. He groaned at the thought, he was a terrible dancer. Lilith, Seth and even Circe had tried to teach him when he was younger and had all ended up with sore toes from him stepping on them. But Blaze had utterly stunned him when Tatsumi and Watari had arrived. She had literally given Tatsumi two seconds reprieve before dragging him out onto the dance floor. Not that it looked like he’d minded in the slightest. Something in Abel’s brain had refused to allow Tatsumi and dancing to coexist in the same thought together until the rest of the crowd on the dance floor had stopped and cleared the way. He had sat with Gun and Hunt and stared in stunned fascination at them. Blaze and Tatsumi moved together like sunlight on water, rippling and sparkling in perfect unison, the looks they gave eachother were of two people who had been and were still deeply in love. He wondered for a moment if Watari felt a little left out but as he looked at the other man he discovered the same expression on his face along with a smug little smile of pride in his spouses. There were dozens of envious looks directed at the three of them once Tatsumi and Blaze came off the dance floor to embrace Watari. No one was surprised in the slightest when they all disappeared not long after that.



Seth and the rest of the Methuselah party had arrived shortly afterward and he had felt a bit better with his sister present. He hadn’t been amused with her laughing at his reaction to becoming a prince until she pointed out to him that he technically was anyway since she was an Empress and he was her brother. He couldn’t argue with that logic but somehow being made prince in this realm made him unutterably nervous. AX, the Pope and the rest of the Red Shaman group would be there in the morning. He moved his arm from over his eyes and stared up at the canopy of the four-poster, thinking he’d have to take his hair down soon. The braids were too intricate to sleep in with any comfort, not to mention, he wasn’t about to sleep in the crown. He sat up when he heard someone knocking lightly on the door.



“Come in.”



Gun walked in followed by half a dozen odd little creatures. Each of them were approximately a foot or so high with dark brown skin and shocks of white or light green hair.



“Abel, these are the brùnaidh for this part of the building. They’ll help with your hair, clothes, turning down the bed, etc, while you’re here.” Please, don’t insult them by refusing. It hurts their feelings because they like to help.



Abel smiled a little at that. Apparently, Gun knew him well already if he knew he’d refuse to allow himself to be attended in such a fashion. He nodded, looking at the small creatures. “Thank you very much,” he said, not knowing if they would understand him or not.



The one who was standing on Gun’s left side bobbed his head slightly. “It is always an honor to attend a member of Queen Edana’s family. They are always polite and well mannered.”



“Your English is very good,” Abel remarked.



“Yes, Prince Abel. It is expected that we know all human languages in order to better understand someone’s needs. We are learning the languages of the Methuselah as well even though we rarely have contact with them. As I understand it, the Methuselah Empress who is here is your sister.”



“Yes. She is.”



“She and her party have been most gracious as well. You come from fine stock, Prince Abel.”



Abel only nodded. He was about to demur but a warning look from Gun said that it would be seen as an insult as well. “Thank you.”



“If you’d like, we can begin taking down your hair for the night. Sleeping in braids like that must be hard on the head,” the brùnaidh said.



“I would sincerely appreciate that. What are your names?”



“My name is Aiden, Prince Abel,” the brùnaidh who had been speaking said. He turned to the others who bowed or curtsied as their names were called. “This is Mac, Celia, Molly, Bart and Wellington, known as Well.”



“I’ll leave you in their capable hands, Abel,” Gun said before turning to the brùnaidh. “Would you be so kind as to draw him a bath as well?”



They nodded in unison, Molly and Celia scrambled off to run bathwater while the others bounced onto the bed to begin undoing Abel’s hair.



“I’ll come back later and see how you’re doing, Abel,” Gun said, closing the door behind him.



Abel sat still while they unbraided, unwrapped and unraveled his hair from around the diadem. One of them lifted the heavy crown carefully off of his head after disengaging his hair from around it.



“If Prince Abel would like, we’ll see to it that your crown is polished properly for tomorrow’s ceremonies.”



“Thank you. I would sincerely appreciate that,” he said. Not bothering to mention he’d much rather go without it. He sighed contentedly as they brushed his hair out. He hadn’t had anyone brush his hair other than himself in ages. Seth had when she was younger but that had usually been followed by her trying to put bows or something equally horrifying for a teenage boy into it.



“Bath is ready,” Molly said, coming out of the bathroom. “Better get in while it’s hot. Don’t worry, we’ll leave you to undress and bathe on your own,” she said with a smile. Celia put a hand over her mouth to hide the giggle. “A priest would naturally be more modest than the rest of those here. We’ll see to it your nightclothes are put out and we’ll leave if that’s all you need from us,” she said, elbowing Celia in the ribs at her continued giggling.



“Ow!”



“Manners.”



“I can’t help it. He’s beautiful,” Celia sighed. “If only I were a few feet taller.”



“And roughly the same species. Forgive her, Prince Abel, she’s still young.”



“No offense taken. I’m flattered. Truly,” Abel said, rising from his spot on the bed and turning to address the assembled brùnaidh. “Thank you all for your help.”



“Our pleasure, Prince Abel,” Aiden said, motioning for the rest to leave. “If you need anything else we’ll be close by.”



“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll need anything else for tonight.”



The brùnaidh all bowed or curtsied as they went out, leaving him to wander into the bathroom. He shook his head and stared around at the black marble room. There was a pathway of bright red mats running around the tub. He presumed so no one went sliding across the floor after getting out of the tub. He sighed and started removing the heavy suit coat and other clothing. He folded them neatly and placed them to the side of the sink before stepping into the sunken tub that was probably big enough for ten plus him. He sank into the wonderful hot water up to his nose and nearly inhaled some of it when the bathroom door opened.



Gun smiled a little as he came closer to the edge of the tub. “A communal bath isn’t unusual here. Mind if I join you?”





**************





Hugue was standing in the hallway talking to Circe and her fathers about the upcoming trip to see Abel’s adoption ceremony when Circe suddenly paused in mid-sentence. Her head swiveled further down the hall and with a sudden, very unladylike squeal; she bolted down the corridor toward the two men standing at the end of it.



Her fathers shrugged and started wandering in that direction just as she reached them. One of the men was roughly the size of a small country, blond and barrel chested. For some reason the man made Hugue think of every picture he’d ever seen of a Viking warrior. She hit him at full throttle, which would have staggered a smaller man but he caught her easily, lifting her over his head as though she were a child. He lowered her to her feet and she immediately took his face in her hands, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before drawing back and grinning. The man next to him was just as tall though much more slender. Circe let go of the first man and turned to him. This time her greeting kiss was far slower, making Hugue feel an odd pang of . . . something he couldn’t really define.



“Where have you two been?” Circe asked, drawing back but still keeping her arms around him. “And what happened to your hair?” She pulled a long, blond strand over the man’s shoulder and inspected it curiously.



“Hel was bored and I am apparently the family guinea pig for such things,” he said, sounding none too amused about it. His eyes suddenly shifted to Hugue, making him feel very uncomfortable for some reason. It took a few seconds for Hugue to realize that the other man’s eyes were not quite normal. The color wasn’t terribly unusual, they were a dark shade of green, but it was the pupils that caught his attention more than anything. They were oddly elliptical, like a cat’s or snake’s were.



“Well, at least you know she doesn’t have any trouble with men who have long blond hair and green eyes,” came Dietrich’s drawl from behind Hugue.



“Don’t make me kill you in front of witnesses, Dietrich,” Hugue growled from between clenched teeth.



“Ohhh, promises of rough treatment. I’m all aflutter,” he said, putting a hand over his heart.



“Bite me.”



“Not on a bet.”



Oracle’s lips twitched in amusement for a few moments before he cleared his throat, earning both men’s attention. “These are Blaze’s brothers. Fenris and Jormun. Or the world wolf and Midgard serpent, if you prefer.”



Both Dietrich and Hugue’s mouths dropped open.