Okay,
here is a preview. Enjoy. I actually had fun writing this one.
Extra credit if you guess who Brent's mother is going to pal around with. (This should be EASY!)
I will list a short cast list at the end of this piece. SInce it's fan fic, I can pick actresses who are young and age progress them to play roles. ;-)
Lisa
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The sanctuary looked like a military base preparing to deploy several divisions into battle. Everyone had been on edge before, waiting for the other Keeper shoe to drop, but they had not expected this. To make matters worse, Brent was doing something she had never done before- she was whining. Brave warriors faced with their fearless leader whining tend to get nervous.
Brent paused at the entrance to the sacred flame room. It was the most mystically secure place on the grounds, and Emily was guarding the entrance to the main cavern with the most intense mystic barrier Brent had ever seen. Of course, the fact that ten of the Imbolc guard were stationed along the cavern to the flame room also added to the room's security. Willow and Tara and their children were safe. Nothing could harm them.
Brent was now ready to face her mother… okay, she was willing to go face her mother… well, she was going to face her mother, even if she wasn't going to like it.
Ceri stood vigil at Tara's side, watching the young mother with her infant. Even with her eyes full of love, Ceri was still able to have an aura of protective menace.
"Ceridwen, you are responsible for Lady Willow and her family," Brent said. She knew Ceri still held a sacred oath to defend Willow, and she always gave assignments with that in mind.
Ceri nodded. She was on edge, like everyone else, but she was glad that she was staying with Willow and Tara and the children. She hated having them out of her sight. Ceridwen had given her pledge to Tara during the brief time that Tara had carried the mantle of Brigit. Ceridwen had the honor of being the only guardian in a thousand years to make a sacred vow to the Imbolc mage. She lived her life with that covenant always in her mind and heart. Only one thing could circumvent that oath, and that was Brianna's safety. As the future mantle of Brigit, Brianna's life came before anything else.
Ceri was unsettled more than scared. Brent was nervous about seeing her mother, but Brent didn't think her mother posed any physical threat. Still, a nervous Brent made all the guardians off their games.
The guardians standing watch in the caverns all reported to Ceri. She was an exacting leader. She led by example and used humor as one of her main tools. The other guardians liked her. She had been one of the prime candidates to become Mistress at some distant time after Brent and Brigan were both long gone, but that had changed with Ceri's oath to protect Willow. The Mistress of the Imbolc guard swore to protect the lives of her sacred cadre above everyone and everything except the Imbolc mage. Ceri could not do that without breaking her vow to hold Willow's safety above everyone except the Imbolc mage.
Ceri rested a hand on Tara's shoulder and studied Megan. "Looks like little miss fussy-pants missed her mama," Ceri said.
Tara nodded. "I hated being away from her." Her brow crinkled. "This time in her life is so important. She's learning to bond with us. Willow and I both want to spend every second with her we can."
"Since you won't be leaving these caves for while, she should get quite a bit of family time." Ceri ruffled Megan's hair. "Where did she get this cowlick?" She traced the curly pattern on the side of Megan's head.
"Willow has one just like it." Tara smiled, not even aware that her face lit up every time she said her wife's name. "But Will's is on the other side." What she didn't add was that she loved to trace the pattern in Willow's hair with one finger after they finished making love.
Brent moved closer and smiled at Megan who was cooing happily in Tara's arms. "Well, it seems our little miss only needed to bathe in the warmth of Brigit's flame to soothe her temper." She kissed Megan's cheek and chuckled. "Just like her big sister."
"We should have thought of that sooner," Tara said. She ran her hand over Megan's head. "I remember how much Brianna loved to feel the warmth of this fire." Tara felt blessed that she and her children had open access to the sacred flame. The council of elders that governed the Imbolc guard around the world had decreed that Willow, Tara, and their children were to be afforded every privilege of the Imbolc guard. It was not a privilege they invoked often.
They generally would visit the flame on Imbolc and on other days sacred to Brigit, but for the most part, they left the flame to the Imbolc guard. Of course, when Brianna had been an infant, Tara had brought her to the flame room often. Sometimes the flame was the only thing that had seemed to settle Brianna's colicky stomach. Tara used to pace in front of the flame, letting the warmth and the peaceful atmosphere calm them both. She sometimes thought a child's colic could be caused by its parent's stress. Babies picked up on those things, especially a child with Brianna's ability to see auras. Then again, maybe Brianna just liked the flame room. Apparently that was true for Megan as well.
Willow had been on the other side of the room with Brianna, watching Brigan prepare wood for the flame. She saw Tara and the others talking and left Brianna with Brigan, knowing her oldest daughter would be enthralled by the task for some time. She joined the others and wrapped an arm around Tara's waist.
"She won't be able to sense Brianna here, will she?" Willow looked at Brent expectantly. "Your mom?" She was not looking forward to meeting anyone from the witches' committee. She stood next to Tara and glanced to the far side of the cave. There had once been a doorway there, but after Tara's challenge, the entrance to the sacred pool was now kept hidden. Brent knew how to open the stone door, but she only did so on rare occasions. She didn't want Brianna wandering into that particular place.
"No, she won't," Brent swore. She smiled as she watched Brianna study Brigan. Brigan was Brent's second in command, and though she didn't spend as much time with Brianna as Brent did, the young child had stolen Brigan's heart as well. Brigan was kneeling in one corner, carefully using a razor sharp hatchet to cut pieces of oak into small chunks to feed into the sacred flame. Brianna was standing at Brigan's shoulder, watching every move with keen interest.
"She's so grown up," Willow whispered and then leaned against Tara.
Brent and Ceri nodded. They had matching proud smiles as they watched Miss Brianna.
Tara turned her head and they all took a silent moment to study Brianna with Brigan.
Brianna was transfixed by Brigan's work. She held as still as a statue, not wanting to interrupt Brigan's divine effort. She took in each movement, storing every detail in her whip sharp mind.
Brigan glanced at Brianna, then at a small stone shelf a few feet away.
"The oil?" Brianna asked excitedly. After Brigan nodded, Brianna reached up and lifted down a chalice of sacred oils. She carried it back, balanced with the utmost care in her tiny hands. She held it out for Brigan and waited.
Brigan dipped her fingers into the oil and began anointing each small log. "The goddess wouldn't mind if I had some help, young miss," she said quietly. She rarely called Brianna by her name. Part of her was still mortified that the guardians couldn't call her "Our Lady." Calling Brigit's chosen one by her first name just felt wrong, and the few times she had done so, she practically looked over her shoulder to make sure lighting wasn't going to strike her.
Brianna didn't smile. She scrunched her brows together and her expression was tense and earnest. She used both hands to put the chalice onto the ground and then dipped her fingers into it. She whispered a blessing, as she had seen the guardians do many times, and then touched each log. The tip of her tongue poked out one side of her mouth as she concentrated on getting just the right amount oil the logs.
Tara turned her attention to the others. She watched as Willow and Brent studied Brianna. She couldn't blame them; her child was adorable. "She'll be fine," Tara whispered into Willow's ear. "She and Brigan will be so busy they won't even notice anything is going on."
"She won't take a bath tonight. We'll have to wrestle her into the tub." Willow smiled. "She loves smelling like the sacred oils."
Brent put a hand on Tara's arm and guided her toward the exit and paused at the arched doorway to the caverns. "You know, you could get some of the oils and add them to her bath."
"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" Willow asked. "I think she loves the smell of the oil as much as she loves helping with the flame." She was almost giddy as she watched Brianna. "Oh! And her little hair gets that charcoal smell," Willow said. She walked a few steps toward Brianna. "She calls it Brigit's campfire." She thought Brianna's allegiance to Brigit was precious, but there was pride as well, pride that her child seemed to have a genuine faith in the goddess and a sincere devotion. "She's the cutest thing ever!"
Tara frowned. She enjoyed watching Brianna as well, but now was not the time to be giddy with excitement. Willow's mood was not normal. Brent's mother was waiting at the main gate, Brent's mother, former member of the witches' committee. Normal behavior for Willow would be barely controlled panic.
"I have to go," Brent said. She took one last look at Brianna and then gave Willow and Tara her full attention. "You'll be safe here, though I'm sure my mother won't try anything."
"Is she dangerous?" Tara asked. She didn't like the idea of hiding in a cave while Brent faced a member of the witches committee.
"To me? No," Brent said and then actually chuckled. "If the committee wanted to send a Judas into our fold, they wouldn't send her."
"But she worked for them," Tara said. She shifted her weight and moved Megan to her shoulder and patted the child's back to burp her.
"My mother spent her life serving the committee," Brent said. "But she is what they should be, the best of them. She spent fifty years trying to drag the committee's policies into this century. She was instrumental in changing some of the worst policies." Her voice was full of pride. "She served them, but she did it with integrity." She rolled her eyes. "Of course, she's also stubborn and obstinate and unwilling to bend when it comes to her beliefs."
"Sounds like someone we know." Willow smiled at Brent and waggled her eyebrows.
"Yes, but I serve Brigit, not the committee," Brent said. "My mother served one of the most powerful organizations on the planet, and she's a powerful witch who isn't above using her magic to get what she wants."
"I can see why that would make you do the wacky," Willow said.
Brent tilted her head to one side and studied Willow. The young witch was practically glowing with energy and she looked more carefree that she had in weeks. "Are you feeling all right?" Brent asked.
"Me? I'm great." Willow scampered over to Tara and hugged her. "Locked up with my honey and our babies. How cool is that?"
"Have you felt any mood swings?" Brent asked.
"Nope." Willow used one hand to push Tara's hair behind one ear. "But Tara's been a little grouchy and protective like a mama lioness."
"Willow, you have been moody," Tara said. "You just haven't had angry outbursts." She remembered her own mood swings and shivered. "Which is a good thing." She balanced Megan with one arm and reached out for Willow's hand. "But, honey, you have been a little too … peppy."
"Since when is being peppy a crime?" Willow said angrily. "Okay, so I'm suddenly a little bit crabby. I'm just going to be quiet now, okay?" She leaned against the wall and tried to figure out why she was suddenly so angry. She didn't like mage-o-pause one bit.
"Mood swing," Brent said happily. "I feel better leaving you now." She suddenly realized where she was going and who she was going to see and her smile fell.
"When did you last see her?" Tara asked. She had never known Brent to visit her mother, in fact she had assumed Brent's mother was dead.
"Ten years ago." Brent ran her hand over her hair. It was an unconscious act, born of nervousness. "I went to see her when she retired from the committee." She scowled and smoothed her hair with both hands. "Does my hair look okay?"
The question was so out of place that both Willow and Tara opened their mouths to respond but could not find their voices. They stood, looking like twin fishes gasping on the deck of a ship.
"Does it look that bad?" Brent asked.
"It's as beautiful as ever," Ceri said. "If I didn't have a soulmate you'd have to chase me away with a stick."
Brent raised one eyebrow and gave Ceri a skeptical stare.
Tara and Willow managed to close their mouths, barely. Brent was not a slave to fashion, in fact she always wore her gray hair in a braid down the middle of her back, and she never asked about her appearance.
"Now who has the mood swings?" Willow asked. "I may be starting my mage-o-pause, but you're acting like an adolescent."
Brent sensed their confusion. "Lady Willow, you know how your mother always points out how you don't follow Judaism?"
Willow nodded.
Brent tugged at her braid and smirked. "It looks frumpy," she explained, using her mother's words.
Tara smiled and cleared her throat. "Brent's nervous about seeing her mommy."
"My Lady?" Brent asked sweetly. It was a term of endearment only Brent used.
"Yes?" Tara shifted Megan in her arms and looked into Brent's eyes.
"Shut up." Brent softened the comment by reaching out and cupping Tara's chin with one hand. "Be careful." She pressed a kiss on Tara's cheek. "This should take a few hours. Then I'll send for you."
Tara nodded. She knew Brent wanted to make sure everything was safe.
Brent stepped to Willow's side and kissed her cheek, then moved her lips to Willow's ear so she could whisper. "My hair really looks okay?" she asked.
"You look fine," Willow said. She understood the stress mothers could cause. Sheila wasn't a former member of the witches' committee and she could cause an epidemic of ulcers with one visit.
"Okay." Brent straightened her shoulders. Despite being the leader of the Imbolc guard, her eyes looked like a nervous teen's. "I'll call you when I see what she wants."
"Maybe she just wants to see you." Willow smiled hopefully. "It's been ten years. She must miss you."
"Perhaps," Brent said, though her eyes revealed that she had her own doubts. She turned and walked out of the room, steeling her courage as she went. Her mother was the one person who could make her feel like a helpless, awkward child. The timing of the visit was certainly suspect, and Brent had a sneaking suspicion the committee had asked her mother to intervene. The committee tried to keep the peace between the Imbolc guard and the Keepers, but that peace was now shattered.
*****
The tension level was palpable. Brent groaned as she Brigh pulled the car to a stop just inside the front gate.
"Mistress?" Brigh asked. She turned off the car and turned toward Brent.
"I'm fine," Brent said. "Let's get this over with." She reached for the door handle.
"Wait." Brigh grabbed Brent's arm. "Let me get the door, please?" When Brent turned toward her she explained. "I think it makes a statement." She blushed.
"If it makes you happy." Brent knew the show of respect would not impress her mother, but it might make Brigh a bit less nervous.
Brent waited as Brigh got out of the car and went around the vehicle and then opened Brent's door. "Mistress," she said as she stepped back for the elder to exit.
"Thank you." Brent nodded and headed toward the front gate.
"You're welcome, Mistress." Brigh moved alongside Brent. Her body was poised for any attack, though Brent had sworn that wouldn't be necessary.
They waited as three more members of the Imbolc guard joined them and then the electronic gate hummed and rolled open. A slender, petite woman with close-cropped, yet stylish shock white hair was leaning against a bright red Mercedes convertible. She had eyes as black as pitch that were sparkling with mischief.
"Oh, my, that's quite a harem you have there, Cathy," the woman said as she pushed off the car and walked toward Brent.
"Mother…" Brent gritted her teeth.
"That's the name I gave you," Brent's mother said as she shrugged. "What, no hug?" She held out her arms.
"Mother, how are you?" Brent stepped into the embrace and squeezed the older woman.
Brigh was in shock. She retained her composure even though she wanted to drop her jaw and stare at Brent. Mistress Brent did not look like a 'Cathy.'
"Fine," her mother said when they stepped away from each other. "How are you, Mistress Brent?" Sarcasm was one the older woman's favorite tones.
"I'm curious," Brent said.
"Always straight to the point. Doesn't your Brigit let you have any fun?"
Brigh's body tensed and she took a step closer. No one maligned Brigit without Brigh taking action.
Brent shot Brigh a warning glare and held the young guardian in place. Nervous or not, Brent could order her guardians with one quick glance.
"This one's fiery. I like her. What's your name, sweet cheeks?" Brent's mother waggled her eyebrows at Brigh. "And more importantly, what do you think of older women?"
Brent groaned. It was starting already.
Brigh took a huge step back. She would never falter in the face of battle, but the hungry sparkle in the tiny white haired woman's eyes scared the daylights out of one Brigit's most faithful.
"She's harmless," Brent said as she rested a hand on Brigh's shoulder. "Brigh, this is my mother, Morgan." She blushed, knowing it would only get worse. "Mother, this is Brigh."
"Brigh?" Morgan rolled her eyes. "Doesn't it get confusing with all these names starting with bee?" She looked up and down Brigh's curvy frame. "I'll just call you sweet cheeks." She leaned to one side, making it clear she wasn't talking about the cheeks on Brigh's face.
"What do you want, mother?" Brent asked impatiently.
"Oh, please, Cathy, I'm not going to seduce your little amazon." Morgan sighed.
Brent cringed.
"I mean … Brent." Morgan smiled and winked at Brigh. "Wanna ride with me, sweet cheeks?" She nodded toward her flashy red convertible. The personalized plate read "HOTSPELL."
Brigh looked at Brent for rescue.
"Leave the poor woman alone, mother. What are you here for?" Brent asked.
"Fine, spoil all my fun." Morgan walked back to Brent. "I need to talk to you, officially." She nodded toward the gate. "Let's get to the casting so you can bind my powers and we can go inside to have this conversation."
"You're out of retirement?" Brent asked.
"I'd hardly call teaching retirement." Morgan smiled and patted Brent's arm. "But if you mean is my sabbatical from frying renegade witches over-"
"What do they want?" Brent interrupted.
"All business, I see." Morgan frowned and then cleared her throat and waved her arms in an intentionally overly dramatic flourish. "Mistress Brent, in the name of the witches' committee, I ask to enter your sanctuary." She bowed, and then curtsied, and then waved her arms dramatically again. The sarcastic smirk never left her lips. "Pretty please with a hedonistic amazon on top?" Morgan believed you should always spice up your prurient comments with a bit of refined language. Otherwise, it was just crude.
Brent took her mother by the arm. She barely managed to keep from flinching as their power mingled. She guided the older woman aside so Brigh and the other guardian's couldn't hear.
"My goodness, your energy is mess," Morgan said. She turned and placed both hands on Brent's shoulders. "See what following that muddy little river nymph has gotten you?"
"Brigit rules water, mother. She is not a river nymph," Brent whined.
"Stand up straight. Do you always slouch in front of your beguiling little amazons?" Morgan poked at Brent's hair. "Cathy, Cathy, Cathy, would it kill you to crop this braid and maybe use some mousse?"
"Mother! I need to talk to you. This is serious." Brent ran her hand over her hair and felt a blush on her cheeks.
"Yes, dear." Morgan crossed her arms over her chest. "Have no fear, I will cooperate with the binding."
"Mother, just shut up for two minutes, please?" Brent was getting desperate. Her mother was the one person she couldn't order around. One minute with her mother and Brent reverted to the insecure child she had once been. With her luck, she'd probably start getting pimples again.
Morgan nodded. "Go ahead, Cath- Brent." She used Brent's Imbolc name- and she didn't say it with a thick dose of sarcasm, which meant Morgan was actually being serious. As much as she teased Brent, she did respect her role. It was just so much fun to yank her uptight daughter's chain.
"While on the grounds, there are restricted areas. You have to respect those." Brent took both of her mother's hands. "Please, I don't want my guardians chopping you into little pieces," she added with a smile.
"Ugh!" Morgan rolled her eyes. "You and your little amazons are so draconian." Morgan squeezed Brent's hands. "I will honor your sacred space."
"And, mother, there's something else." Brent had to release her mother's hands. Their energy was mingling and Brent was feeling a bit nauseous. In fact, that energy was one of the things that Brent was most worried about. "Mother … mom, your energy … please do not touch Lady Tara … not for any reason. Please, mother, I'm begging you."
"Ah, the Wiccan formerly known as the Imbolc mage." Morgan nodded. "So it's true? She's a sensitive?"
That question unnerved Brent. "Yes…" she said slowly. She hadn't realized the committee knew that fact.
"Just like her mother," Morgan commented as she glanced up and to the right, remembering something she'd read. She let out a disgusted sigh as she remembered the details. "That whole Maclay incident was a colossal cluster fuck."
"What are you talking about?" Brent asked. Her voice was strong and dangerous. Her mother might be intimidating, but Tara brought out Brent's formidable fire. "Tell me," Brent demanded.
"Catherine?" Morgan studied Brent for a brief moment. "Oh, my god." She shook her head. "You're practically glowing." She nodded at her daughter. Morgan wasn't an accomplished reader of auras, but she could read her own child. "It's positively … maternal."
"Yes, it is." Brent wouldn't deny her love for Tara, and right now, that love was turning the elder into an angry mama bear. "What do you know?"
"Meg Maclay died of magic poisoning along with her sister," Morgan said.
"And?" Brent's voice raised.
A few feet away, Brigh and the other guardians were getting antsy. Not a good thing when the antsy women were armed to the teeth.
"And none of your business," Morgan said flatly. "Matters of the committee are none of your concern." Her eyes narrowed. "And events that we dealt with thirty years ago and sealed should stay in the past."
Brent wanted to push. She really wanted to push, as in grab her mother and throttle her until she told her what she knew. But, she knew her mother would not tell her the committee's private information. With the added stress, Brent's mind didn't calculate the math of the situation. Tara's mother had died less than twenty years earlier, not thirty.
"Fine," Brent said between gritted teeth. "Let's do the ritual and get inside." She didn't like standing outside the gate- exposed if the keepers decided to retaliate.
"The keepers have been told to stand down," Morgan said casually.
"Stop doing that!" Brent whined. She knew her mother was not a mind reader, but the older woman had always been able to read Brent's face and figure out exactly was she was thinking. It made sneaking out as a child extremely difficult.
"Cathy, you're whining. What's sweet cheeks gonna think of that?" Morgan waved a hand toward Brigh. "Suck it up and take me inside so I can gawk at all your other pretty amazons."
Brent rolled her eyes. She knew her mother was mostly heterosexual, but Morgan loved making people squirm. The idea of her mother hitting on young, nubile guardians definitely made Brent squirm, which meant Brent could look forward to off-color sapphic comments for the duration of her mother's stay. She could have gone another ten years without seeing her mother and been perfectly happy. She turned to Brigh. "The herbs?"
Brigh brought over a small satchel and opened it as Brent calmed her nerves to begin the binding spell for her mother.
*****
Brent- played by a gray haired Kate Jackson now in her early 60s. Added a few pounds of muscle, but in great shape and has the voice.
Morgan- played by a much older (78 year old) Mia Sara.
Her hair is now shock white and her eyes are still full of fire and she is in disturbingly hot shape even at 78.
Edited by: Lisa of Nine at: 5/6/03 5:33:09 pm
by hopico99 » Thu May 01, 2003 10:16 pm 
:
Yay!!I'm back! I can breath again! sorry i havent replied so long Lisa, computer went wonky and damnnear exploded. But im back 
lisa, lisa, lisa! it is SO GOOD to see you back in action on milestones. I cannot overemphasize the goodness that is you and pens together. here is an experimental feminist interpetive smilie expressing my feelings on the subject: 
I'm sorry. Lisa, I've loved this fic for ages and should have posted to you forever ago. I love baby/child fics and the way you write them is perfect.
. Curious that Beth seems to be intelligent enough to do something in science at school yet doesn't realize that the demon-story is used to keep her close. I feel sorry for Donnie's wife, all the more reason to introduce Brent to Donnie..heh... (with proper knowledge of certain historical facts of course: -->
)
<-- i find new funny emoticons every freakin day.. 
I really don't know how I missed this.... I'm deliriously happy Lisa
at: 5/7/03 4:40:25 pm
won't bury you lol. 
's mood swings are worst than 
's. 
it's nice to see 
, viva Lisa's fic!
just hope you get it 
i want to be Morgan when i grow up -- i want to hit on a "sweet cheeks" when i'm her age and be able to pull it off.