Ailill
They returned home, trying to regain the rhythm of their lives, this time with Åska and the child. As he'd know would happen, the old beastkin settled in quickly, as if he'd always been with them. And with his presence, they all suddenly felt much safer.
The nightbird grew quickly, soon becoming big enough and old enough to have her own nest and mate, and her own clutch of eggs to raise. Ailill watched as the girl grew sad at her leaving, and decided to help her out.
It was sunny, the middle of spring, and he held a hand out to the child, calling her outside. "Stjärna, come on. I need your help."
She hesitated, but it was clear that she still wasn't comfortable being on her own. Kuraĝon had gone hunting, and he knew that she would be gone most of the day. She liked her time alone, and he respected that, rarely joining her.
What do you need?
The girl's fingers flew, an unconscious communication between them now.
He led her through the trees. "Kú needs to make a nest," he explained as they walked. "And then she will choose her mate. She's never been taught how, so we're going to help her. Do you want to?"
Sadness crossed her face briefly, but she nodded. Okay.
He crouched in front of her, looking into her eyes. "You need to understand something, little one," he said. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to here. If you don't want to help make the nest, then that's fine. I won't get angry with you. Neither will Kura. There are plenty of things that we don't do because we don't want to. Can you understand that? We won't make you do anything."
She stared at him for a long time, but finally nodded. I understand.
He smiled, ruffling her hair as he straightened. "Good girl. Do you want to come with me?"
She nodded again. I want to learn, she signed. The temple didn't let me.
He laughed, taking her hand. "Well then, we can fix that. This way."
He led her to the tree Kú had claimed for herself, spitting and hissing at any other creature who tried to go near it, except for them. As she always had, the young nightbird greeted them with her kind's high-pitched screech, and flew around their heads in joy. Taking his time, making the work enjoyable, Ailill showed the girl an old nightbird's nest, and then how to make one. Kú joined in, showing the instinct she had for it, but even with her help, it took most of the afternoon, and it wasn't until the sun was throwing dark displays of gold across the sky that they stopped.
How long does it usually take?
He carefully put the nest in the tree, and watched as Kú fussed over it. "Normally about two or here days, for a single nightbird. For those who've found a mate before that, usually one day."
Will having a nest make it easier for her to get a mate?
"I think so," he said quietly, looking down at her. Grass and twigs were stuck in her dress and hair, but she seemed happy. "I've often noticed that the ones with a nest get a mate faster. But there's her colour. I'm not sure what that will mean for her. We'll have to see."
The girl nodded. Thank you for showing me. She seemed to be shy suddenly, but he said nothing about it, merely smiling at her.
"It is no trouble," he assured her. "If you wish to live with us, it is something I will do for you whenever you want."
She nodded again, staring around at her surroundings. He began to walk, leading her back to the cottage. Kuraĝon would already be there, with her boots in the doorway, and her kill on the table for him to skin and cook. He knew her too well.
As they walked, Aura didn't speak, didn't move her hands. She seemed content to study the trees around her, and he was grateful for it. He wanted to think about what the priestess, his priestess, had done.
Unfortunately, the walk to their home was too short, and Kuraĝon was waiting for him, her hands on her hips. He grinned at the sight.
"Ali, I'm hungry," she informed him, mock severely. "When is dinner going to be ready?"
"Whenever you learn to cook," he called flippantly over his shoulder as he pushed past her to go inside. He deftly avoided her boots, and headed for the side table, where he picked up the duck.
Her snort was her response, and he chuckled. As he readied the game for cooking, he listened to the sounds behind him, homely sounds of his sister's good-natured grumbles, and of the beastkins being nuisances, as they always were. He could only assume that Aura was playing with them, similarly being in the way. He knew that she liked it.
The meal wasn't one of his best, but it was edible, and no one complained. Not even the beastkins, who were fed under the table, even though they all knew what was going on. As Aura disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, Kuraĝon put a careful hand on his shoulder.
"Ali, are you alright? You're quiet. Quieter than normal. Is there anything I can do?"
He shook his head. "No," he muttered. "I just need to think, little sister. It ... it's weird without hearing the song now. I'd been hearing it all my life. It's almost like something's missing."
She nodded, and poked his side, making him grunt. "Don't stay up too long thinking," was all she said. He was grateful for that, too. Grateful that she understood what he hadn't said, yet still didn't press him about it.
He watched her vanish into her room, and then wandered outside, where the full moon was lighting the clearing that their home was in.
At last, he could consider the child. On his own, and without interruption.
The child.
His daughter.
It was the first time he'd thought of her as such - the first time he'd let himself think of her as such. Before, it had been too dangerous to think about how valuable she was to him. too hard to consider what he would do to keep her safe, and happy.
But here, where they were safe from harm, he could think about it, and he let himself think.
She was his daughter, his and the priestess', and he could see them both in her. The priestess' love for learning and knowledge, her gentle nature and wild temper. His connection with the earth, and the trust he had with other creatures that lived with them. His wicked sense of humour that rarely showed.
She had all of that. And yet ... yet she had something more, something just her own.
She had a gift for finding words for what she saw, a gift for recording legends and tales in her own way. And despite her young age, Ailill knew that she would be a powerful influence in the years to come. She questioned everything, making sure that what she knew was right, and not just rumours.
Those skills would help her in the years to come, when she was on her own, living life as she wanted to.
But for now, she was his little daughter, and his to keep safe.

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Search for the Extinct [Last of Elves book 2]
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