She is the perfect Disguise
For the Evil inside
A darkness you cannot conceive
Her Love is insane
Completely deranged
She is everything evil believes
She is wrong when she is right
She is fire she is light
She is all that I need.
Everything dawn can believe.
Fog roiled on the bay. The High tide climbing, brought the coracle on. Cloaked in mist the coracle rode the tide hidden from sight.
Brendan, crouching at the bow, stared into the mist. Now and again he clashed bothe clackers he held tightly, straining for a sign, an echo, to tell him they had entered the small sheltered bay they had steered for.
Badbh stood, holding to the foremast of the two masted raider they skimmed over the sea in. Listening for that echo herself.
Brendan tried not to stare back at her. Her warmth still clung fiercely to his memories. Waking, wrapped in soft cashmeres and seal skins, Badbh, held close, her head on his chest. He was studying her face, as she slept, two hands breadths away from his face. It startled him when she had opened her eyes, to pierce him through and through.
Emeralds, fiery, lightning swept emerald flames , cut into him. When her eyes opened. She sighed, smiling lazily. Sensually tracing her ruby tongue tip across all eight of her fangs.
Brendan was easily riled up. What man could not be with her? Most people responded to Badbh with blatant fear. Some, the courageous ones, responded with unease. A few, reckoned mad by most were enthralled. Brendan, was enthralled.
Nemain, had been amongst the Norsemen, pretending to be Gormlaith. In Dublin She worked at stirring up the Norsemen. Macha, also, known as Gormlaith was busy stirring the cauldrons of Munster the passions of the Boru, Brian King of the Dal Cais.
Such a glorious war this would be. All three of the Morrigna had taken turns , alternating between Midhe, Cashel, and Dubhlin. Badbh had recruited Brendan and his men on a whim. Merely to increase the chaos.
Eire had gotten boring since Brian, the Boru had wrested the crown from Malachi. The Island was growing peaceful. That could not be tolerated.
With their diminished numbers, the Aos Sidhe needed the chaos of war to provide cover for their particular appetites. Can't have the cattle discover the wolves in their midst. Panicked stampeding herds are, usually painful.
This particular excursion ,for example , a raid into Gwynydd. To sow chaos between the Norse and the Cymry. Well that had been the plan so to speak. Brendan thought they were going to Gwynydd. Badbh had been targeting Man, all along. Manannan’s complacent attitude had annoyed Badbh, so, she was engineering a wake up call.
Norse raiders ruled on Man now. The people though, were still Celts.
Stirring up Manannán mac Lir’s minions was an extra pleasure.
Mac Lir, was Llews son.
Drawing him into the fight would serve no purpose other than chaos and malevolence. Badbh didn't care which faction he chose. With luck she could get him to support Brian or Malachi, then betray them when the Morrigna revealed her selves. Badbh giggled at the thought.
The coracle was beached, the crew dispersed, creeping through the heavy mist.
Brendan, was not pleased. Norse longships, in port? In Gwynydd?
This was not Cymry, or Mona.
What was that damned woman Up to? Where had she led them?
The men had set out with flint and dry tinder. Bundled securely with small pots of whale oil.
Some, not caring that it was not Gwynydd, set to murder and mayhem regardless.
Brendan, and the remaining three, were discussing the longships when Manannan loomed before them. Warriors flowed around him towards the raiding Irish.
There was no battle. Only Brendan managed an attempt, as he moved to draw sword, he was downed, pierced by three spears before his blade cleared the scabbard. Brendan finished the draw as he fell.
Badbh, skipped happily up to Manannan. Incongruous in armor, armed, The blood of the other raiders marked her face as she glared at Manannan.
He had grown. The boy had become a man.
Badbh was amending her plans.
This was, unexpected. The mark of Llew definitely showed in the man.
Yet, Manannan had a visage his own. A bit more rugged. More, hmmm, manly. He stood nearly a full head taller than her.
Badbh could see, the Aos Sidhe flames danced faintly about him. He was still, human so to speak. A sly smile graced her face. Yes, He would do indeed.
Manannan glowered, he knew who this madly beautiful woman was. “ This” he gestured, “is my island, my realm. Why are you here?”
He did not bother to draw sword. It would have been pointless he knew.
“ For you yourself don't you know” Badbh matched his glower.
“I am, for you now my lad.”
She stated matter of fact. Openly eying him, measuring him.
The fog had turned to a morning rain. Manannan returned her gaze levelly.
Badbh, liked what she saw, what she read in the warrior.
Oh the possibilities. Badbh was going to enjoy this.
Turning him. Bedding him.
Brendan had been a tool. Now used, cast off broken.
Manannan, was no tool.
This would be a joy.
Nemain and Macha did not need her to keep the fires burning in Eriu.
Looking over the mixture of longships and raiding coracles. Badbh formed more Ideas.
Llew, was somewhere far south, , his “realm” of Mona lay nearby. Ripe for plunder and conquest. Manannan, had the means.
Badbh would happily be the motivation.
“ Mead?” She inquired stepping closer to Manannan. His eyes, a smoldering dark blue.
A smile quirked at his lips. Badbh shed pheromones. So did he. He licked his lips. “ Of course.”
He turned and walked away.
The man turned his back on HER and walked away!
Badbh was, nonplussed. Just as the facts began to sink in. He tossed back at her. “Coming lass? I'll nae be drinking it in the rain, not even with you. T’would be a crime to taint such fine mead with the mornings rain.” He paused, turning back to face her a dozen paces away. Badbh blinked. Snarling she, leapt the distance. He caught her whirling about with her as if dancing. Badbh was not expecting that response. He had not flinched
or hesitated. A hard man he was.
Better, and better indeed.
He kept an arm about her waist. She let him.
Manannan escorted Badbh into the stone walled hall.
The warriors, a mix of Britons, Scots, Norse, and Danes watched the scene.
Their chiefs reputation, rose even higher. Their lord, had claimed a demon ,clearly, and that had awed them. They had seen her tearing the throats out of the raiders, laughing.
Not a man envied him. Beautiful though she was.
It began as light though sharp love bites. It progressed, growing as the wild storms of the Irish sea do. Flashing into a tempest , in moments, out of a gentle misting rain.
Manannan could by no means resist. Badbh rode him fiercely, snarling, biting, tearing at him. He did not care. The feel of her, the fire the intensity was a pleasure that over whelmed the pain. A pain he had stopped noticing or feeling, truthfully he didn't care which, the day before.
Manannans own desires blazed. Together they burned. Blue, green, red Auras of flame burned, cloaking them in fires no human eye could see. Manannan relished the flames. With some effort, Badbh wasn't cooperative. Manannan heaved her up, they twisted about, a momentary struggle that found Badbh pinned beneath Manannan to her growing delight.
Sex, before, during, and after the change was a new experience Badbh. The intensity, the ever increasing passion, the shifting, changing , growing sensations. Badbh found herself enthralled for a change. This, had turned out to be more fun than battle. A lover of madness, wed to darkness, Badbh had found a peace. She surrendered to the storm. Together, they became, the storm.
The skies reflected the gathering storms in Manannan’s eyes. Badbh strolled with an affected casual grace, across the broad valley. She had vanished the night before, while he had slept, stayed from their, what exactly was that? Coming together? Becoming? Och!
I doesn't matter, it was good.
Manannans eyes glittered as he glimpsed what she carried nonchalantly. The bloody woman had climbed Ynis Withryn to Llews eyrie, and robbed him! Manannan knew that sword. Every one knew that sword! “Aye she is a thirsty one now isn't she?” A round of grunted assent from his war band told. Him he had spoken that aloud.
She strolled up to him grinning. Tossed the sword to him.
“ A sweet toy now for you Mac.” He caught it, she leaned in, her breath hot across his neck,
“ I think ye earned it lad.”
The men chuckled.
He wished she wouldn't call him Mac. Or Lad for that matter.
Still, the bloody woman was eons old if rumors held any truth. Manannan held the sword up over head. The war band clashed axes and spears to shields, “ Mac Lyr, Mac Lyr!” Rang out.