Ungodly Resurrection

4: Herbs and Temptation

Emma gripped Marian's hand tightly

“Now, hang on tight to momma while we step through the empty spaces.” Emma cautioned.

“I know momma!” Marian replied excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Marian-look at me hun. I know you know, ok sweetie. I just don't want to lose you baby, so please hang on tight, ok?” Emma reiterated. Marian looked at her mother with an expression somewhere between exasperation and fear.

“Yes momma.” Marian gripped her mother's hand with a ferocious strength for a five year old. Emma nodded her approval.

“Ok, here we go!” Emma called.

“Yay!” Marian shouted and the two steeped forward together towards the Pagan plane. Emma was bringing Marian along because she loved it there, and Marian was showing a particular interest and skill in healing, which the healer was delightedly teaching her. Marian was absorbing the information like a sponge, and Emma felt sure that their little girl was going to be a goddess of health or healing, which was just so right and fitting that Emma almost couldn't stand it. As they made the last step through to the plane they were seeking Marian cheered.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! We're supposed to go herb picking today mummy! HERB PICKING!” Marian shouted, her wings burst from her back with a loud fwoosh and Emma winced. Now that she knew how that felt, she didn't know how her daughter could stand it. Marian took to the sky, flying dizzying circles around her mother's head, chattering away about the herbs and flowers she wanted to find. Emma smiled. The two made their way towards the village, Marian still chatting away. As they neared the first houses, Marian landed and folded her wings, tucking her hand back in her mother's shyly. Greetings of 'Goddess' and 'god's-child' could be heard as they made their way down the cobbled path towards the healer's shop.

“Why do they call me that momma?” Marian asked in a loud whisper, tugging Emma's arm.

“Because you are the child of a god.” Emma replied quietly.

“But what does that mean?” Marian asked.

“It means that one day, you'll have an amazing amount of power at your fingertips to help people with, but you always have to remember Marian.” Emma crouched in front of her daughter. “Being the daughter of a god doesn't make you any better or any worse than anyone else. What makes you different is how you use your power.”

“I wanna use my power for good!” Marian cheered and Emma smiled, tapping her daughter's nose.

“I know you do. And that's what makes you special.” Emma replied. She rubbed her nose against her daughter's and then leaned her forehead against her Marian's for a brief instant until Marian giggled and ran around her.

“Healer Jay! Marian called. Emma winced and stood, holding her back. There was a broad grin on the healer's face as he opened his arms for the young god's-child. She jumped into his arms, aided by her wings and he caught her with a laugh. Emma smiled. Janus was always so sullen looking, except when it came to her children.

“I'm sorry Janus. I keep asking her not to call you that.” Emma said as she approached.

“I don't mind.” The healer replied as Marian began nagging hem about what herbs they were going to pick.

“Can I put braids in your beard again? That was fun!” Marian asked happily. Emma placed a hand on Marian's back to steady the child as she played with the broad man's beard.

“Marian, please behave yourself.” She scolded lightly, then turned to Janus. “The man I'm here to see-did he find accommodations?” Emma asked. Janus' eyes were twinkling at the child, but he sobered at the mention of the stag.

“Yes.” The healer's deep voice rumbled. “You'll find him mucking the stables today. He is very.. troubled, goddess. Are you sure this is a project you want to undertake?” The healer asked.

“My momma's the best! She'll fix him!” Marian enthused. Janus rubbed his forehead against hers.

“That she is, little Angel, that she is. I just worry about how much your mother takes on.” The healer turned his attention back to Emma. “I'm afraid one day she's going to get in over her head.”

“Today's not that day, my friend.” Emma assured him, placing a hand on his arm. “Now, I think you've promised my daughter herb picking...”

“Yes!” Marian drove her wings down powerfully, boosting herself from Janus' arms.

“Young Miss!” Janus yelped, afraid the young child might fall. Marian giggled. “Gods, but she's going to kill me doing things like that with those wings.” He grumbled.

“Oh that's nothing. You should have been there the first day she jumped off the roof. With her brother.” Emma stated with her arms crossed.

“First day? Which brother? Sol or one of the triplets?” Janus panicked.

“Sol of course, and yes, first day.” Emma responded, rolling her eyes.

“Oh heavens.” Janus ran a hand down his face. “Do I want to know what happened, and how frequently she jumps?”

“Let's just say Bel is faster than I ever imagined, and Marian has very precise control of her wings.” Emma answered. “And we've considered clipping them.”

“No!” Shouted Marian.

“Oh ye gods. The child is a tornado.” Janus remarked.

 “Yup.” Emma popped her lips on the 'p'

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Emma waved her daughter and the healer off and then turned to head towards the stables. Her first view of the stag was nearly enough to knock her off her feet, though she tried desperately not to admit it to herself. Was she still 'hungry'? He had removed his vest, and his skin was slick with sweat as he used a pitchfork to toss hay into stalls. Emma watched his muscles move under his skin hungrily, the way they flexed and bunched, and she imagined that broad back hovering over her, her fingernails sinking into the flesh. She had to still be a bit drained to be feeling like this... As if hearing his name called, the stag turned to face her, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths caused by his exertions. He stared at her for a moment or two, emotions played behind his eyes that Emma couldn't quite read. He set the pitchfork aside and rubbed his hands on his pants. She noticed with a cry that his hands were now blistered and calloused. She raced to him, already feeling the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Why haven't you told someone you're not used to this work so they could find you something easier?” She cried, tears falling onto his large hands and absorbing into the skin.

“Little one, don't cry for me. I chose it. I like being with the animals, and this way, I can make sure they're being well taken care of. Please don't cry. I really chose this work.” He lifted her chin, wiping away her tears with his thumb and then watched in amazement as the tears joined together on his skin to sink into the raw and damaged places, leaving behind healthy, unmarred flesh. “You have really come into your own here, haven't you? Little goddess. My little fawn.” He crooned, stroking her face. She found herself getting lost in his dark eyes and put a hand on his chest to steady herself and put space between them.

Can we walk?” She asked him. He nodded mutely and grabbed his vest off a nail in a post by the door, swinging it over his shoulder as he followed Emma out. She led him away from the village toward the clover field where she, Bel and Luci had spent their last evening. She plucked a long stem of grass that had gone to seed and tugged the seeds free, blowing them from her palm, scattering them in the path they tread so that they immediately took root in the worn area and began to grow. The stag looked on in amazement. The power she held! How he wished she was his! They could have done such great things together.

“What should I call you? Emma asked him softly, plucking a bud absently next that she allowed to bloom in her hand and offered to a passing bee. The stag was nearly speechless watching this creature as bees buzzed gently to and from her palm, but she didn't flinch or flee. If the universe had tried to create a more perfect being for him, it never could have. Emma looked back at him and quirked an eyebrow, awaiting his answer. He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head slightly.

“I have not been called by a name in so long, I can scarcely remember. You remade me, why don't you rename me?” He requested. Emma looked shocked, then smiled slightly.

“I believe my ancestors used to worship a stag god named Cernunos that I have not been able to find him. Maybe that was you. Or perhaps he is dead. So how about we call you Cern in his honor?” Emma continued to smile as the stag nodded his head slowly.

“Cern. I like it, it ties me to you in a way.” He responded. Emma blanched, looking away. The stag frowned, reaching for her and then dropping his hand.

“Why did you bring me back?” He questioned her.