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No groan of hinges betrayed the opening of the door; no squeaking of floorboards marked anyone's passing. And so Morrigan did not realize her home had been invaded until she heard the soft rustling above her son's cradle. Looking up from her book, she then flung it aside as she leapt to her feet, grabbing for the staff in the corner next to the fireplace. "Leave him alone!"
Flemeth finished gathering the babe in her arms and turned to face Morrigan as she straightened. "Now, now," she said, voice hushed. "You don't want to wake him, do you?"
Morrigan froze, torn between the urge to snatch the boy from Flemeth's arms and her need to smack Flemeth with a binding spell that would hold her for a hundred years. "How did you find me?"
"You did a good job obscuring your trail, I'll give you that much." Flemeth smiled with an expression almost like pride. "But you should have known you couldn't hide from me forever."
You were supposed to be dead. But Morrigan supposed that had always been a vain hope. She let her arms relax, just a little, and she took a careful step forward. "I don't suppose you wish to tell me why you are here?"
"I'm here to see my grandson." Flemeth pushed the blanket back off his head and looked him over: his reddish-blond hair, his peaceful smile. "Aren't you a fine boy?" She placed light kiss on his forehead. "A fine boy with a fine destiny." She held him out to Morrigan, who did not hesitate to take him and pull him close, shielding him from Flemeth with her hands and a spell of protection, murmured quickly under her breath. "And he would be a boy. Too proud to give me another girl then? Or too afraid?" She arched an eyebrow.
Morrigan could not help but shrink away. "I will protect my son," she said, speaking each word with clear precision. "I will protect him from anyone who might threaten him."
Flemeth chuckled. "Even me?"
Morrigan stared straight into her mother's eyes, the distance making her more bold. "Especially you."
Flemeth lowered her chin, and her smile turned dark. "Just as a mother should. Just as I protected you, whether you appreciated it or not. But you need not fear me, my girl. At least, not yet." She stepped forward and pressed her lips to Morrigan's forehead, the same gentle gesture she had bestowed upon the babe. "Now, rest."
Almost without realizing she had done so, Morrigan closed her eyes; by the time she opened them, Flemeth was gone, the open door closed, a window left half-open. Shuddering, she went to the window and closed it, bolted the door, and settled back into the rocking chair, her sleeping son still clasped to her breast.