This short little bit is dedicated to my best, most wonderful friend, Pookie (Grins Don't kill me, Kaitlin!), because I love her to death and she loves Aly and Alanna (more so than Kel, Neal, Dom, and Joren…can you believe she HATES Joren? Humph) Anyway, I hope you like it, Kaitlin! Happy early birthday! (No, this isnt your birthday present. That, I will give to you ON your b-day.)
"Why are you always like this, mother?"
I remember asking that question of her, long ago, as I sat on her knee. I was barely five, and we sat, watching the fire, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the hooting of the owls somewhere far off in the distance.
She had just returned home from being called by the king, doing the same thing she always did-defending her country. In the morning, she would be leaving again, I knew.
She, of course, understood what I meant by my question-she always did. 'Why are you always dashing off to help others?' It was always my question-I had never voiced it before, but when she had returned, battered, worn, and with a new injury, all I could do was think of it. Yet, I never seemed to come up with an answer, for I had no idea why. She had told us, many times before, how she had become a knight, the King's Champion, and everything else. She just never told us why she felt the need to.
"Táim mar is gá dom bheith." I can still hear her voice replying, soft and smooth, little more than a whisper, yet echoing through the silent night.
I shifted on her knee, not appeased with the explanation. After all, I had been wondering for quite some time, and to have my answer-a half answer, I would bet, because that was often the only kind my mother gave-given in a different language was extremely frustrating.
I tugged forcefully at the sleeve of her tunic, trying to regain her attention. With a sigh, she looked down. "Yes, Aly?"
"What does that mean?" I wanted to scream. I hated not getting an answer. I was, after all, like my father-extremely shrewd, always noticing everything, I liked to know exactly what was happening. Unfortunately, my mother had a way of ruining that.
She sighed again, as if weary. "You will understand when you are older Aly, for I have no doubt you will feel the same." That was the only answer she gave me. I sulked for a bit, quite annoyed with the 'half answer', though I knew that was all I would get. The next morning, she left, refusing to explain the matter further.
I asked many, over time, yet none could tell me the translation. It wasn't until many years later, when I had discovered what I wanted to do with my life, that my mother told me.
We were walking around through the night, glancing over the balcony and into the gardens below. It was right after Dove had been placed on her throne, the last meeting we were likely ever to have as a family. After all, I was head of the Copper Isle's spies, just as my da was head as Tortall's. We had too many great people in my family, with too many important places in the world, to meet too often. After all, we were from different countries now, separated not just by oceans but by thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. I believed in my queen, and nothing could make me change that, not even my family.
Anyway, as I was saying, we were walking along the terrace, looking over the gardens, glancing at the clear sky and beautiful moon. The night was silent, and so were we; there was no reason to break it, as we were perfectly comfortable.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked at me. I stopped also, and she gently took my hand in her own. "Remember all those years ago, when you asked me why?"
I nodded my head, instantly knowing what she was talking about. Funny, she always knew with me, too.
"I replied to you 'Táim mar is gá dom bheith', and I told you, when you asked what it meant, that you would understand when you were older. Do you remember that?"
I again shook my head in understanding, and she continued. "You do understand now. You understand it as well as me, or anyone else, does, though you may not know the meaning." She took a deep breath. "It means 'I am because I need to be'."
My eyes widened, but I just watched her. Suddenly, a small, shimmering tear slipped down her cheek. "I am because I need to be." She was crying in earnest now, and I was shocked, having never seen my mother like this. It was as if she had fallen off her own pedestal, that of lady knight, King's Champion, and all her other titles, and onto one that was able to understand. She was, for the first time I could remember, sharing her thoughts and feelings with me. I felt my own eyes begin to tear.
"I know that I haven't been the best mother, Alianne," she drew a weak, shaky breath and whiped away a tear, "But I love you none-the-less. It will, I know, be extremely hard for us to communicate, to see each other, but never forget that I am your mother and I care about you, and I will until the day I die and beyond."
I reached out and hugged her-I was taller than her, so had to slouch down slightly, making it slightly uncomfortable, but it didn't matter. Because I finally understood. I understood all my mother had done. She had done what she did because she needed to. Her country, her king, her people needed her to defend them, and she had to, because it was her duty. More than that, it was what she felt she had to do. Just like I did.
Táim mar is gá dom bheith- I am because I need to be. This is Gaelic.
Kay, I know this is extremely short, and not overly wonderful. But I enjoyed it, and I hope everyone else did too.