Elfhaven (the Danu Cycle: Fiann Trilogy Book 2)

Eamon felt as though something had shifted inside him. He had this nagging need to be around Niamh, to know she was all right, to see her smiling face. It frustrated him in as much as it seemed like stalker behaviour as it seemed very un-him behaviour.

He did not what it was that had made him attack O'Neill the way he had, as though he were defending his right to be with Niamh to a rival – when both she and he knew that was never going to happen.

Still, he found his demeanour towards her softening, despite everything his head was telling him. His flirtations were closer to sincere compliments, his smirks were becoming more subtle, his efficient training touch became more lingering, and his eyes even felt less guarded. He did not know what was happening to him, and he was not convinced she noticed any difference, though he saw a slight change in her also.

This is everything you have been trying to avoid, Eamon! He continuously told himself, but the mask would not settle back into place.

His chest lightened annoyingly when she smiled at him then tightened when she did not move out of the way of a blow and was hit. He made even more ridiculous excuses to talk to her, or make her smile. The worst part was that his woman companions were not taking his mind off her any longer. He found himself not wanting to leave her at his father's gatherings, much preferring to dance with her than sneak off with anyone else. He made himself, more often than not, find someone else when Niamh looked as though she was almost ready for bed. Though, it was for show more than anything else.

When the topic came up to go after Dwendardien's lieutenant, he jumped at an excuse to change up their routine; anything to try to stop the discomfort swirling around his body. Besides, it had been far too long since he had been outside the walls, and the idea of physical discomfort was a welcome distraction.

Eamon had only to begin telling his fiann of their plan, before they were behind them. He smiled at them, thinking he should have known they would agree with any decision he made. Though, he was starting to suspect they would agree with any decision Niamh made as well.

So much for loyal to the death. He laughed to himself, then realised they were so loyal to her because they could see he was that loyal to her. He inwardly cursed his newfound transparency and turned back to Nessa, questioning again whether it was really in his fiann's best interests to be so blindly loyal to anyone.

"We assumed that was what we were working towards." Nessa said in answer to Eamon's questioning look.

"Someone needs to make the first move." Oran said. "And if it is us, then they will have no cause to come to our cities."

Niamh's fiann – for they were hardly O'Neill's anymore after his little hissy fit – nodded in agreement. Eamon could see she was incredibly touched, but also hesitant to accept such loyalty from them.

"If you are willing to put your life on the line for us, then it is the least we can do to follow you." Teague said, his pride in his leader evident.

"We can't just let you go running into danger on your own." Fergus rumbled.

"You'll be disobeying a direct order from your king if you do this..." Niamh said slowly, taking the time to look at every Sidhe assembled. Eamon could not stop the feeling in his chest at her concern for them.

"Aye, but we would be disobeying our leader if we did not go." Conor said, winking at her then looking to Eamon, his eyes full of meaning and emotion. He nodded slightly to his second, a silent thanks.

Her fiann had then gathered around her and promised that they were going of their own volition and would follow her to the heart of any realm. Eamon knew what promise they were making to her, even if she did not. That small act had – whether intentional or not – shifted their allegiance from O'Neill to her. Eamon expected they would not notice the shift, not for a long time, and he was interested to see the repercussions of such an act. In all his long life, he could not remember hearing of any fianna unanimously choosing a new leader without the old one dying.

While he watched them, his amusement turned to awe as he witnessed the moment her fiann found their crest in their love for her. There was a familiar rush of light, spreading out around them from the badges, bathing the nine of them in brilliance. He felt a stab of delight that O'Neill was experiencing the moment on his own, then realised what it would mean to Niamh and the others that he was not there and his mood sobered.

As the light receded, shrinking back into the badges, Eamon saw them blinking in confusion and he smiled, remembering fondly the day his fiann had found their crests. He locked eyes with his fiann, one by one, and saw thought they were reliving the memory as well. Finally, he looked back to Niamh, who was sharing incredulous looks and comments with her fiann as they admired their new crest.

A lump formed in his throat as he saw the happiness on her face and he felt what he could only describe as a fluttering in his stomach. He did not know why he should feel so proud of her, but there it was; he looked at Niamh, picturing her as the half-human girl he had danced with all those months ago, the half-human girl enough like her mother to punch him in his smug face. He compared that first image of her with the one who stood in front of him now, near dwarfed by the most loyal of friends she could ever have by her side.

He did not know what made him look up, smile and whisper, "Neil, Emma...you would be so proud of your little girl."

He looked back at Niamh; her face glowed with uncertain excitement, her fiann glowed with loyal pride, and their badges glowed with a ladybird in flight, imprinted upon a background of twirling vines.