A Father’s Advice

Sleep has happened again. At least this time, I have a reasonable excuse.  I realised that I had not left Gwyn’s side for almost a week, and such sleep as I had had was unsatisfactory and intermittent, doing more to put a crick in my neck than to refresh my mind and body. Such it was that I returned to my cottage in the village to rest, having now been assured that what Gwyn needed was proper rest herself, rather than the coma she had been in. I was reluctant to leave her, but, well, arguing with the fae rarely gets me anywhere, and I am sure she needs time, and the company of her own kind to recover and integrate what has passed into her psyche.

And so I slept the sleep of the dead, which phrase I do find a little uncomfortable, given my ambiguous state at the moment. When I eventually emerged to take a walk across the clearing, I found Aoibheann there, sitting under the big tree in the centre. After the usual greetings, she asked where I had been for the past week or so, and I realised that she had not known what had passed with Gwyn. I apologised profusely for not getting word to her. I had mentioned that she should be contacted at some point, while we were discussing how to help Gwyn, but had neglected to follow it up and ask if she had been notified. I updated her as best I could on what had happened, and she was naturally upset and concerned for Gwyn’s health as well as her mental well-being. In keeping with Aoibheann’s somewhat eclectic turn of mind, she wanted to go and help, saying that she should come visit Gwyn and brush her hair for her. That seemed to me to be an odd idea, but I had mentioned how Gwyn’s hair was longer, and for all I knew, Gwyn might find that comforting.  There was, however, the problem of Aoibheann’s status in the sithen. Without Her Majesty there to give permission, or Blaise to perform his deaf and blind trick on her, I was not sure I could take her in. She had already reminded me that she was a danger to Llwyd, and I was therefore bound my oath to bring no harm to the sithen.  I need not have worried though, as she decided not to come there until she was summoned.

Later in the day, I was visited by no less a personage than Prince Blaise himself, wishing a chat with his daughter’s lover. He came to the cottage, which by the standards of the sithen, is somewhat of a primitive dwelling, and it showed in the way he looked around as I invited him in. I noticed his expression and apologised for my humble position. I assured him that, in my own world, I was possessed of a thriving business and a comfortable home, with modest, but respectable status. However, since I had been cast upon this shore with naught but that which I could carry with me, I had little to offer.  He had the grace to be embarrassed, explaining that he wanted nothing but the best for his daughter. I told him that I wished the same and that I would give her the world if I could, and would give my life if I had to. He accepted that in good part and moved the conversation on to the matter he wished to discuss. Not surprisingly, this concerned the matters of intimacy between myself and Gwyn. He was a little reluctant, at first, to discuss it, apologising in advance for raising matters which he believed to be of some embarrassment among humans, but not among his kind. While I had to admit that he was probably right, I squelched my own embarrassment and assured him that I had no problems discussing such things, even if it was an awkward matter between a father and the lover of his daughter. He was, of course, concerned about the continuing nature of our relationship, given Gwyn’s premature advancement into Sidhe adulthood.  I explained that, so far, our intimacy had not resulted in exploding wildlife, positing that either my existing nature, or that part of me that was fae seemed to have rendered me able to absorb the excess magical energies that resulted form our intimacies. I also assured him that I was well aware that the situation was different now that she had been forced into adulthood, and that we would no doubt be taking suitable precautions when we resumed the intimate part of our relationship. Without actually revealing the participation of Valene in our intimacies, I hinted that I had received some guidance and help.  He added some advice of his own, asking if Gwyn and I had linked minds during our intimacies. I said it was possible. I know we have shared dreams, which indicates some level of mental link, and that I have been aware of pleasure sensations other than my own during our intimacies. He advised that a loose mental link helped to ground and control the energies loosed during the pleasurable moments.  That sounds like something we should work on together.  Maybe we should try mental links some time, though I am not sure I am entirely comfortable sharing every thought.  Before he left, he gave me a small, polished stone, which he told me to keep about our persons during intimacy, as it would help us in safely channelling the energy. For a brief moment, I thought of the old joke about keeping a stone in your shoe as a contraceptive – as it makes you limp – but somehow I doubted he would descend to that level of humour. He then left us, wishing us well of our relationship, which was nice of him.

So, I have a magical stone of sorts. How it works, we shall have to find out, as and when Gwyn feels well enough to resume the physical part of the relationship. It would be uncharitable of me to suspect that its purpose is to dampen our ardour, rather than dampen the energies. Blaise can be strange, but I don’t find him to be that devious. I suppose I need to tell Gwyn about it, so I hope she isn’t too embarrassed about Blaise and I having had such a conversation.


A song about a father’s advice…


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