Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kiaya looked over the garden and smiled. The grasses and buttercups that had sprouted in several of the beds were gone now, but the young carrots, radishes, and beets had not been touched.

Ranon had taken the responsibility of removing unwanted plants from the beds to heart, and he had worked carefully - not rushing through the task so as to finish sooner.

Mims had accompanied him to the garden that morning. She had helped with the weeding, but she was too young to be expected to accomplish much work. Yet she was old enough now to entertain herself by playing nearby or joining in with song or conversation while others worked – and the day’s work had been done well.

Kiaya opened the gate and stepped inside. She harvested rocket, red and green lettuce, carrots, and a few radishes for the evening’s salad. It would be enough – but perhaps it would be better with a few herbs. She added a handful of chives and a few sprigs of parsley to her harvest basket.

With a pot of soup and the bread left over from the morning’s baking, it would be a good meal.

Kiaya stepped out of the garden, closed the gate, and looked out over the fields.

The main crops, too, were growing well. Willow had planted the beets, peas, turnips, rutabaga, and cabbages before he left to bring the Daikini baby back to her people, and he'd almost finished plowing and harrowing the grain fields. Regan, though he had his own farm and family to care for, plowed and harrowed the last two fields and planted the grains, as well as pumpkins and beans, leaving her the time to plant the garden, with Ranon's and Mims's help. No late frost had damaged the young plants; the rains had come regularly. There had been some losses to rabbits, gophers, and a neighbour’s pigs, but the losses had been minimal. The cabbages were already big enough to harvest, though those that were not yet harvested would continue to grow. The oats, barley, maize, pumpkins, and beans as well were nearly ready to harvest.

Yet Willow had not yet returned home.

Kiaya sighed. He had been gone for so long she sometimes wondered if he would ever come back.

He will, she told herself, as she did every time.

It would be different when he returned this time. He must have seen so much and experienced so many things! He would have so much to tell them - and also, she was sure, many things he did not wish to speak of. He would be tired, and he would be grieving for the baby they could not keep – yet he would have brought her to safety and found a good home for her, good parents, among her own people.

Kiaya knew Willow would never give up until he found people - or at least one person - he could trust to take good care of her.

He would miss her.

Kiaya missed her, too, though she had cared for her for only a short time.

It would be harder for Willow – yet he would be so happy to be home again, with her and Mims and Ranon.

Yet already the sun was nearing the horizon.

Kiaya looked once more beyond the boundary of the village.

Willow still wasn't there.

Kiaya sighed. She picked up her harvest basket, made sure the garden gate was securely latched, and returned home.

* * *

Willow fed Elora, bathed her, and dressed her in clean, dry clothing. He sang to her – songs he had once sung to Ranon and Mims – until she fell asleep.

“Willow?”

Willow looked up.

Madmartigan stood in the doorway.

Sorsha stood beside him.

“May we speak with you?” Sorsha asked.

Willow wanted to tell them ‘no’. He wanted to take Elora home – but he knew he couldn’t.

He knew Madmartigan cared for Elora. He didn’t know much about caring for babies yet, but he was learning. He would be a good father. As for Sorsha … Willow knew nothing about her except that she had worked for Queen Bavmorda, following her most horrible orders.

He also knew she may not have had much of a choice. Bavmorda was her mother, and she was a powerful sorceress. She would have taught Sorsha from an early age to obey her without question – yet in the end, Sorsha had not obeyed her mother. She had chosen to protect Elora Danaan, instead.

That did not mean she knew how to care for a baby.

It did not mean she was willing to learn.

But maybe she was.

He should leave Elora with her and Madmartigan, if they were willing to care for her. After all, he had responsibilities at home. He couldn't leave all the work to Kiaya. Nor could he expect Meegosh or Regan or anyone else to step in and do his work; they had work of their own to do. Ranon and Mims were old enough now to take on some of the household duties, but they shouldn't have to do all his work either. They wouldn't know how - but they must have learned so much during the months he'd been away.

Mims would be reading by now – simple words and sentences Kiaya and Ranon wrote for her on a slate. Perhaps she was beginning to help care for the garden and harvest the vegetables, too. Ranon had been helping out in the garden for more than a year now; he would be a great help to Kiaya. Perhaps he had begun to help with the work in the fields as well - or to observe the work done by others. He would be reading well by now, and Kiaya would be teaching him how to write. Maybe he had already written down some of the stories he loved to tell. 

Willow sighed. He missed them all so much.

He missed Meegosh and Regan, too, and the High Aldwin.

He would be happy to see anybody from home.

Except Burglekutt - but he wouldn’t even mind seeing him, if it meant he was home again.

Willow knew he wouldn't be home for a long time. Even if he left early the next morning, it would be several moons before he returned home.

And after he left, he would not see Elora again. He couldn't take her with him … or maybe he could. With the evil queen Bavmorda gone, no one would send Death Dogs after her …

Willow shook his head.

Elora belonged among her own people, where she was a princess who would some day become queen. 

“Madmartigan told me about this baby,” Sorsha spoke up. She looked at Elora thoughtfully.

“I told her what I know, which isn’t much,” Madmartigan said. “I told her your children found her in the river near your village, that she’s a Daikini – ”

“That much I already knew,” Sorsha pointed out.

Madmartigan gave her an exasperated look. “... she’s a Daikini princess … and nobody knows where she came from or who her parents are, or were. I told her she needs someone to take care of her.”

“She needs a family,” Sorsha told him.

“Of course,” Madmartigan said. “We’ll give her that. I mean, we’ll be her family. And she’ll be ours.”

Willow looked at Elora. She looked so peaceful, sleeping soundly in his arms, despite everything that had happened.

There was so much he would miss, after Madmartigan and Sorsha took her into their family.

Elora already smiled and cooed at people. Soon, she would begin to imitate the sounds of their voices. She would learn to sit up and move about. Within a few months, she would say her first word. She would learn to talk, and walk, and run. Before long, she would be talking, singing, telling stories – familiar stories and those of her own creation.

She would dance, perhaps. Or draw, or paint, or make beautiful baskets or clothing. She would help her new parents with the chores – in the kitchen, in the garden, in their workplace.

Or perhaps she would be occupied with other matters. She was a princess; surely her parents would teach her to read, and write, and calculate, and keep records. Perhaps they would teach her to play a musical instrument or paint or sew or ride horses.

He would see her learn none of those things.

“We will look after her as if she were born to us,” Sorsha said. “And we will keep her safe. I give you my word.”

Willow nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

“We won’t let her forget you, Willow,” Madmartigan promised. “We’ll tell her the story of what you did for her and for her people. And you will always be welcome here.”

Willow didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t visit. The journey took months, and he had work to do at home … but maybe some day, when Mims and Ranon were older … maybe some day, he could.

“Get some sleep, Willow. You and Elora. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Good night, Madmartigan,” Willow said, but he did not sleep. He sat there, and watched Elora, and wished Tir Asleen weren’t so far from his village.

He would miss her so much. Almost as much as he missed Kiaya and Ranon and Mims.

But she had a family now – and that was what was important.

* * *

The journey home was a long one, and frightening. No soldiers pursued him this time, but he traveled alone, except for the pony, Snow.

Willow had never been alone for so long before – and he’d never been alone while away from home.

He was glad for the company of the pony.

Snow seemed glad of his company, too - and he remained nearby even at night. “You’ve probably never been alone, either,” Willow said.

The pony did not look up from the patch of clover he’d found nearby, but he flicked his ears towards him, listening politely.

Willow finished his own meal, washed and dried his plate and spoon, and replaced them inside his pack. The sooner they returned to their journey, the sooner he would be home – and he wanted, more than anything, to be home again, with his family.

He hoped Elora was settling in well with her new family. He suspected she was. After all, traveling for months didn’t bother her. Being carried away by an eagle, riding in a wagon pulled by runaway horses, riding a sled down a mountain – even Bavmorda’s attempt to destroy her didn’t bother her for long. And she knew Madmartigan. She liked him. She seemed to like Sorsha, too.

“She’ll be fine,” Willow told himself. He climbed into his bedroll and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t sleep.

Even with the fire nearby, he expected something to come after him – trolls, maybe, or giants or dragons or Nockmaar soldiers or the angry spirit of Queen Bavmorda or –

Snow snorted and swished his tail.

Willow opened his eyes and sat up.

The pony stood nearby. He didn’t look at all spooked; he was simply standing there, grazing.

No one else was near.

No monsters or soldiers or angry spirits.

Only himself and Snow.

Something passed over his head.

Willow ducked and looked up.

A bat swooped toward the earth – hunting its dinner.

“It was probably a mosquito or a fly,” Willow said aloud. Snow flicked his ears toward him and back again, intent on his meal.

The pony would let him know if anyone – or anything – came near.

Willow lay down again, closed his eyes, and waited for sleep.

* * *

“Is Dada coming home soon?” Mims asked.

“I hope so,” Kiaya told her. “He must travel until he reaches a Daikini settlement and finds someone who will care for the baby as if she were their own child.” She had answered the same question, and similar, from her daughter – and her son – many times, but she could not blame them for asking. She, too, wanted to know when Willow would return.

He might not return, a horrible voice inside her head insisted on adding.

He will return, Kiaya silently assured herself. He must.

“I wish Dada was here now. And I wish the baby was here, too. I wish we could keep her.”

Ranon nodded. “Me too,” he said.

“There’s no sense in dwelling too long on what might have been. We’ve got work to do. Think how happy Dada will be when he comes home and sees all the day’s work is finished! He won’t have to start working right away. Instead, he can tell us about his journey and the person he found who will care for the baby. And we can tell him all about what we’ve been doing here.”

Ranon nodded silently.

“Yes, Mama,” Mims said. “But I still wish Dada was here.”

“So do I, Mims,” Kiaya said. “So do I.”

* * *

There was frost on the ground and on the leaves of the trees when Willow awoke.

He sighed. He should already have harvested the oats and rye and brought in the beans and the last of the summer squash. He should have planted the winter wheat, garlic, and onions. He should have broadcast clover seeds, and kale, oats, rye, and peas.

He should be home now, preparing to bring in the maize

Instead, he was lying in his bedroll, thinking of what he should be doing. Willow shoved the blankets aside, fed the pony a handful of grain, and prepared himself as quickly as possible for the day’s journey.

After making sure the fire had been completely extinguished – despite the lack of sufficient water to douse the embers and saturate the site, as he would have preferred – Willow saddled the pony, loaded his packs, and put on his bridle.

He looked over the campsite once more; he’d forgotten nothing – and the fire was out.

Willow took the reins and swung up into the saddle. “Walk on,” he said.

Snow obeyed immediately – and quickly.

Willow felt himself tense. Deliberately, he loosened the reins – but Snow hesitated and flicked his ears inquiringly toward him.

“I’m sorry,” Willow said. “You startled me, that’s all. I know you’re not going to start galloping all of a sudden.” At least he hoped not. So far, he hadn’t – not even when they’d been caught out in the open during a sudden thunderstorm. He’d flattened his ears, flicked his tail irritably – and waited for Willow to signal to him to move faster, toward a wooded valley where they’d eventually taken shelter within a grove of willow, alder, and hawthorn.

“I’m ready now,” Willow assured the pony. “Walk on.”

Snow stepped forward eagerly.

This time, Willow was ready.

They traveled for most of the day, stopping only to drink and refill their water bags at the river. The sun was low in the horizon when Willow began looking for a suitable place to set up camp. And then he noticed something in the distance – a very familiar-looking structure: a tall scaffold with iron cages hanging from it. “Look! That’s the Daikini crossroad!” Willow exclaimed.

Snow turned his ears toward him politely.

“It means we’re almost home! A few days’ journey on foot – but with you carrying our gear, and me riding most of the way, we might get there tomorrow!”

Snow snorted.

Willow sighed. “I suppose you’d have to gallop most of the way to get there by tomorrow – but we’ll be there in two or three days. We’ll stay here tonight. There should be plenty of grass for you, and we’re close enough to the river to refill the water bags.”

He signaled the pony to turn off the main road toward the place he, Meegosh, and the others had set up camp before. The site was unoccupied – and so were the crows’ cages, this time.

Willow untacked and groomed the pony, tethered him nearby in a grassy clearing, set up camp, and gathered enough firewood for a small fire – just big enough to keep predators away.

After preparing and eating a quick meal, he climbed into his bedroll, closed his eyes, and imagined the welcome he would receive when he returned home.

* * *

The village wasn’t getting any closer, no matter how fast the pony ran.

Willow held on and hoped he wouldn’t fall off, but the pony’s gallop was smooth and steady.

Nockmaar soldiers fired arrows at them from both sides.

A castle wall appeared directly in front of them.

Nockmaar.

They were back at Nockmaar again.

The pony slid to a stop.

Willow tried to turn him; they needed to get away!

Too late.

Trolls surrounded them on all sides.

Bavmorda threw lightning at them, holding Elora in her other arm.

Mims stood nearby, crying.

A Death Dog ran right at her.

“Stop! Go away!” Willow yelled. He slid off the pony and threw an acorn at it.

The acorn missed.

Willow drew his wand and ran towards Mims.

He wasn’t going to be fast enough – but Ranon was there, standing in front of Mims, sword in hand. “Enough! Go home!” he yelled.

The Death Dog snarled at him.

Willow darted in front of Ranon and drew his wand. “You heard him! Go home!” he yelled.

The Death Dog stopped. It stood there, watching them.

“I want to go home, Dada,” Mims said.

“Me too,” Ranon agreed.

“All right,” Willow told them.

He and the children ran from Nockmaar.

The pony trotted beside them.

They passed mountains and rivers and the Daikini crossroad.

The village was ahead of them, somewhere.

It wasn’t getting any closer.

Elora was gone.

Mims and Ranon were gone.

Willow didn’t know where.

Except – they hadn’t been with him, had they?

Weren’t they back home, safe, in the village, with Kiaya?

He could see the village ahead of him.

It was silent.

Still.

Willow signaled the pony to stop. He dismounted, took the reins in one hand, and drew his wand in the other.

He led the pony into the village.

The village wasn’t empty.

It was filled with people – silent and still, encased in quartz crystal.

“No. They can’t be. They can’t!” Willow yelled … and opened his eyes.

He was lying in his bedroll in a small clearing among a grove of trees.

“It was a dream. Just a dream,” he told himself.

He knew that – but he wanted, more than anything, to be home right then – to see Kiaya and Ranon and Mims; to know they were well.

The sky was still dark, but Willow knew he wasn’t going to sleep again that night.

He packed quickly, saddled the pony, and extinguished the fire.

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, he and the pony had left the campsite and the Crossroads far behind.

* * *

Something was happening in the village.

Kiaya heard the distant yells; the excitement spreading through.

It’s Willow! He’s come home! Kiaya shook her head. She mustn’t get her hopes up.

She mustn’t get the children’s hopes up.

There were many other possible causes of excitement.

At the moment, she couldn’t think of any, but that didn't mean there were none.

Yet there was no sensible reason to delay going to see what was going on.

Kiaya hurried outside and walked toward the center of the village.

Mims and Ranon ran after her.

“Shut the gate! Ranon, shut the gate!” she yelled.

“Yes, Mama.” Ranon ran back, shut the garden gate, and hurried to catch up with Mims.

People were gathered near the center of the village, surrounding a pretty white pony and a familiar-looking rider.

Kiaya could see only his back, but his clothing and hair … “Willow?” she called.

He turned – and his face lit up. “Kiaya!” he yelled.

Willow slid off the pony and ran to her, through the crowd - and Kiaya ran to him. 

The people moved aside to let them through.

And then he was there, in her arms, and she in his.

He was home, and he was safe, and they were together again, with Mims and Ranon.

“Dada! I missed you!” Mims told him.

“Me too,” Ranon said.

“And I missed you,” Willow said. He turned to Kiaya. “Kiaya, I – ”

“I know,” Kiaya interrupted. This wasn’t the time for an apology – especially since no apology was necessary. He had done what he needed to do. He saved the village – but what about the baby?

She needed to know – but what if something terrible had happened? Willow shouldn’t have to tell her in front of the entire village. She could ask him later, in the privacy of their own home. “You’re home now,” Kiaya told him. “That’s what’s important.”

Willow smiled at her. “I know. And Elora … the baby … she has a family now. A Daikini warrior named Madmartigan and a princess … a queen, rather … named Sorsha took her in. She’s their daughter now.”

“She’s a princess? Does she live in a castle now? And fight dragons and trolls and giants?” Ranon asks.

Kiaya laughed. “She’s a baby, Ranon. She doesn’t know how to fight dragons or trolls or giants.”

“Oh.” Ranon looked disappointed.

“She does live in a castle,” Willow told him. “It’s called Tir Asleen. Madmartigan is a warrior. A swordsman. Sorsha is a warrior, too. I think they’ll teach her how to use a sword – but they’ll have to wait until she’s a little older.”

“I’m old enough to use a sword now. And to ride a pony,” Ranon said.

“Me too!” Mims agreed.

Willow looked at Kiaya.

“Yes, you are,” Kiaya told them. “But that pony – and your Dada – just got home from a long, long journey. Don’t you think they should rest first?”

Both children nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Mama,” Ranon said.

“I wouldn’t mind going home,” Willow admitted quietly. He glanced at the High Aldwin.

The High Aldwin considered for a moment, and nodded. “Willow has returned!” he announced, as if nobody in the village knew. “Let us celebrate! Let us listen to the story of Willow's journey - and share with him what has happened here in the village while he was away!”

The villagers cheered.

Kiaya noticed Willow’s smile falter. She turned to the High Aldwin – but before she could say anything, he was speaking again.

“The time of the celebration will be … tomorrow, when the sun reaches its zenith!” the High Aldwin declared.

There were groans and mutters of disappointment, but nobody argued. People knew celebrations took time to prepare - and most would understand that Willow was not yet ready for a celebration. Not so soon after his return. 

Shortly after the High Aldwin’s announcement, people began to return to their previous engagements and activities – though almost everyone paused for a moment to exchange greetings with Willow and welcome him back.

Finally, the last person finished speaking with Willow.

“Let’s go home,” Kiaya suggested.

Willow gave her a tired smile. “I would like nothing better,” he said.

Kiaya, Willow, their children, and the pony walked home … together at last.