#neimh

[sonuckles-but-parents-blog]

Meet the Family! Buail leis an teaghlach!

Sonic the Hedgehog | Sonic an Ghráinneog (Age 45): "Hey, guys! It's me, infamous former hero and still an adventurer! Ever since Eggman kicked the bucket, it's been a bit... directionless but I'm figuring it out." "Hé, a dhaoine! Táim anseo, an té a bhí laoch le droch-chlú agus atá ag dul ar eachtraí fós. Ó fuair Eggman a bhás, bíonn an scéal... gan treo maith, ach táim ag fáil cúpla bealaí eile a cheapadh faoi."

Knuckles the Echidna | Knuckles an t-Eicidneach (Age 46): "Hey. I'm the Guardian of the Master Emerald and of Angel Island. Currently looking for a successor to myself, getting older and all of that. Ask me things or whatever this is about." "Hé. Is Cosantóir Rialaitheora na Smaragaidí agus an Oileáin Neimhe mise. Anois, tá mé ag lorg comharba dom fhéin, ag éirí níos sine agus rudaí eile go bhfios agaibh. Fiafraígí rudaí dom ná pé rud go bhfuil seo faoi."

Caracol the Hedge-idna | Caracol an Ghráinn-idneach (Age 15): "I'm Caracol. I love novels and stuff. Just trying to live a regular life. My Dads have told me some pretty insane stories, and I'm honestly just looking to relax." "Is mise Caracol. Is breá liom úrscéalta agus stuif. Nílim ach ag trialach gnáth-shaol a fháil. D'inis mo Dhaideanna roinnt scéalta craiceáilte dom, agus le ionracas, nílim ach ag iarradh suaimhneas."

[tavwrote]

hi, i decided to be silly and added a few muses today

honkai star rail: dr. ratio, sunday, black swan, huohuo

fire emblem: corrin, leo

genshin: ayato, rosaria

baldur's gate 3: neimhe, ireti, yorieth ( all ocs )

bungo stray dogs: kunikida

pokémon: professor sycamore, calem

[nemetonofearthandgods]

Bride is said to preside over the different seasons of the year and to bestow their functions upon them according to their respective needs. Some call January 'am mios marbh,' the dead month, some December, while some apply the terms, 'na tri miosa marbh,' the three dead months, 'an raithe marbh,' the dead quarter, and 'raithe marbh na bliadhna,' the dead quarter of the year, to the winter months when nature is asleep. Bride with her white wand is said to breathe life into the mouth of the dead Winter and to bring him to open his eyes to the tears and the smiles, the sighs and the laughter of Spring. The venom of the cold is said to tremble for its safety on Bride's Day and to flee for its life on Patrick's Day. There is a saying:--

‘Chuir Bride miar ’s an abhuinn

La na Feill Bride

Is dh’ fhalbh mathair ghuir an fhuachd,

Is nigh i basan anns an abhuinn

La na Feill Padruig

Is dh’ fhalbh mathair ghin an fhuachd.'

Bride put her finger in the river

On the Feast Day of Bride

And away went the hatching mother of the cold,

And she bathed her palms in the river

On the Feast Day of Patrick

And away went the conception mother of the cold,

Another version says:--

'Chuir Brighid a bas ann,

Chuir Moire a cas ann,

Chuir Padruig a chiach fhuar ann.' (?)

Bride put her palm in it,

Mary per her foot in it,

Patrick put the cold stone in it,

alluding to the decrease in cold as the year advances. In illustration of this is-- 'Chuir Moire meoirean anns an uisge La Fheili Bride is thug i neimh as, ’s La Fheill Padruig nigh i lamhan ann ’s dh’ fhalbh am fuachd uil as,' Mary put her fingers in the water on Bride's Feast Day and the venom went out of it, and on Patrick's Feast Day she bathed her hands in it and all the cold went out of it.

Carmina Gadelica, Volume 1, by Alexander Carmicheal, [1900], at sacred-texts.com page 172

[brendanjharkin]

Cró Nimhe | The Poisoned Glen 

Formed when the one-eyed giant king Balor was slain by his exiled grandson. The poison from his eye burst the land open and poisoned the earth.

Its true origins were the misspelling of an English cartographer. Who wrote down An Gleann Neamhe, the Heavenly Glen, as An Gleann Neimhe: the Poisoned Glen.

[scotianostra]

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald.

(Not to be confused with Mary MacDonald/Great Mary of the Song another great Gaelic poet)

Mary MacDonald, born in 1789 at Dalnacarn near Bunessan daughter of Duncan MacDougall and Ann Morrison, was a poet of some prowess. She lived with her husband Neil MacDonald and ten children in a basic dwelling enduring crofting hardships of the period.

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald. Mary composed the worldwide known verses entitled ‘Leanabh an Aigh’ (Child in a Manger).The fourteen verses she composed has assured Mary of her niche worldwide. Arguably the most famous Gaelic tune in the world, the lovely melody to which it is sung is centuries old and is called “Bunessan.” Many people will know Bunessan as the name of the tune of Cat Stevens 1972 hit ‘Morning has broken’.

She also wrote a lament for her drowned daughter in law and a song about her husband’s smoking habits and his bad temper when he couldn’t get his tobacco.

  Leanabh An Aigh

Leanabh an àigh, an leanabh aig Màiri, Rugadh san stàball, Rìgh nan Dùl; Thàinig don fhàsach, dh'fhuiling nar n-àite Son’ iad an àireamh bhios dha dlùth.

Ged a bhios leanabain aig rìghrean na talmhainn An greadhnachas garbh is anabarr mùirn, ’S geàrr gus am falbh iad, ’s fàsaidh iad anfhann, An àilleachd ’s an dealbh a’ searg san ùir.

Cha b’ ionann ’s an t-Uan thàinig gar fuasgladh Iriosal, stuama, ghluais o thùs; E naomha gun truailleachd, Cruithfhear an t-sluaigh; Dh'èirich e suas le buaidh on ùir.

Seo leanabh an àigh a dh'aithris na fàidhean; ’S na h-ainglean àrd, b’ e miann an sùl; ’S E ’s airidh air gràdh ’s air urram thoirt dha - Sona an àireamh bhios dha dlùth.

’S ann am Betlehèm thàinig an sgeul ’S binne da threud na teudan ciùil; Armailt nam Flaitheas is aingle neimh Ag àrd mholadh Dhè ’s a’ seinn a chliù.

Èistibh an fhuaim le sgeula nam buadh A dh'aithris na buachaillean o thùs; Gheibh sibh an t-Uan sa phrasaich na shuain ’S e shaoras a shluagh le buaidh ’s le cliù.

Teagasg a Rìgh dhuinn slighe na sìthe Nad cheumaibh dìleas cùm sinn dlùth; Thusa bha dìleas dhuinn o shìorr'achd Urras ro chinnteach air ar cùl.

Neartaich ar dòchas, meudaich ar n’ eòlas Cuir sinn nad ròidean dìreach dlùth; Le ola nar lòchrain mar ris na h-òighean A’ seinn ann an glòir an òrain ùir.

Translations vary but this one by Gaelic scholar and journalist Lachlan MacBean seems most popular.

Child in the manger, infant of Mary; outcast and stranger, Lord of all; Child who inherits all our transgressions, all our demerits on Him fall.

Once the most holy Child of salvation gently and lowly lived below; now, as our glorious mighty Redeemer, see Him victorious o'er each foe.

Prophets foretold Him, infant of wonder; angels behold Him on His throne; worthy our Savior of all our praises; happy forever are His own.

[kingsshilling]

changing some aspects of the story solely cus the lyrics of + story behind this song inspired me so much LMFAO. rambling a bit

ORIGINALLY my plan was that after éamonn’s mother dies, he would just sell the house despite saying “i’d like to burn it down to fuck”, cus bedwyr tells him that’d be funny but selling it would be wiser, but just selling it is a little underwhelming..... so on inspiration from the lyrics of that song which mention burned out ruins, i think it would be much more satisfying and some form of catharsis for éamonn to set his childhood home alight when he was never granted any kind of closure or resolution from his mother herself, despite how much he tried (and as an end to a long period where éamonn and bedwyr had been separated on shaky terms, bedwyr returning to wales while éamonn stayed in ireland and them having little to no contact with each other for a number of months, which was in no small part caused by éamonn’s mother - bedwyr arriving back in donegal on the day of her wake was the first time they’d seen each other in a long time)

BUT also i know i said éamonn is from killybegs, but the story behind the name “poisoned glen”:

According to legend, the huge ice-carved hollow of the Poisoned Glen got its name when the ancient one-eyed giant king of Tory, Balor, was killed here by his exiled grandson, Lughaidh, whereupon the poison from his eye split the rock and poisoned the glen. The less interesting truth, however, lies in a cartographic gaffe. Locals were inspired to name it An Gleann Neamhe ('The Heavenly Glen'), but when an English cartographer mapped the area, he carelessly marked it An Gleann Neimhe – The Poisoned Glen.

poisoned glen/heavenly glen.. it’s just too good an opportunity to pass up, when so much of éamonn’s arc is his rejection and hatred of his home, believing that nothing of value is there and saying he’ll never return... when after the war is over (and of course before their separation) bedwyr convinces him he should go back and try reconnect with his home because he believes it’s important, and only because of bedwyr’s marvelling at the beauty of the place does he have his eyes opened to what’s really there...

as well as that it makes more sense for éamonn geographically to come from that area because 1. it’s an incredibly isolated, open and harsh landscape, which’d only amplify his loneliness as a child and 2. éamonn is an irish speaker, and the poisoned glen is within/near the gaeltacht

AND 3., killybegs (or just outside killybegs, in fintra bay) is where i want him to end up living in the end - it makes more sense that, rather than just moving down the road or whatever the fuck from the childhood home he just burnt down because he never wanted to see it again, he’d want to go and live somewhere that he has fonder memories of (since as a fisherman in his adulthood pre-wales he would’ve spent more time there than at home, it being a major and important fishing port)

plus, as an end note, i’d love for éamonn to discover after burning the house down that the locals were never fond of his mother either, so they turn a blind eye to the burning and no authorities get involved, or if the authorities TRY to get involved they straight out protect him.. and also for ones who’d known him as a child to tell him that they’d always felt sorry for him and worried for him and don’t blame him for disappearing, that he should feel zero guilt..

again as another realisation that there IS beauty here, captain and also that he’s genuinely loved and understood and cared for :( he’d never realise it himself because he thinks of himself as such a loner but he so, so badly needs that sense of community and belonging that he’d only experienced for the first time in wales

[fanficfreekspn]

1-4: Sometimes, Faerie Magic Sucks (9) End

☙𝟙❧  |  ☙𝟚❧  |  ☙𝟛❧  |  ☙𝟜❧  |  ☙𝟝❧  |  ☙𝟞❧  |  ☙𝟟❧  |  ☙𝟠❧  |  ☙𝟡❧

Lily opened her eyes three days later and discovered that she was in her bed at the bunker. She sat up and looked over herself, her skin color back to normal. She walked over to the mirror and found her hair and eyes back to normal as well. She was dressed in a long, black gown with a silver faerie necklace around her neck. She rolled her eyes before pattering off barefoot to find her brothers.

"All right, who's the smart ass?" she asked before stopping to find the two ginger men sitting across the table from Sam and Dean, talking and laughing.

Her eyes widened as she stepped back and looked down at her arms, swirling with blue markings once again.

"They identify us by name, rank, and family," Ian slowly stood and showed her the marks on him, doing the same. "It happens at a first meeting, and then when we're at war, or... Excited."

Drystan pushed the sleeve of his right arm up and showed her his.

"Who are you?" she looked between them.

"I could tell you, but I have the urge to show you instead," Drystan held his right arm up and waited.

She turned to Sam and Dean as they both nodded for her to trust them. She looked down at her right hand before pressing it against his.

Their markings climbed up their arms and met in the palm of their hands. They both then exchanged their life stories, of all they had been through, and back until their first memories. They were half brother and sister, children of Neimh. Lily had another brother.

She pulled her hand away before angering. "So what, our mother just pushed out kids and dropped them on their fathers' doorsteps all around the freaking country?!"

"She came to me, in a dream. She asked me to come and help find you."

She shook her head before looking up at Ian. "You're not kin?"

"Distantly. We're both from the Tribe of Danu, though from different families. My parents sent me..."

"You're a full blood," she stared at him.

"I am."

"I see the fire in you."

"And I see the water in you," he smiled. "Your family hails from the West, and mine from the South."

"Findias," she corrected him. "And Murias."

"We don't like to say those names in the human realm."

"Ian is not your given name," she took in a breath. “I’ve heard your voice in the Collective. I… know you as Enion.”

"Just as I know you as Lilwen," he remained calm.

"How do I know so much about you?"

"Because you are the other half of my soul."

Her eyes widened as Sam and Dean rose to their feet. "Drink Lil?"

〈⍟ Part 8 •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾ ⍟ ☽

[dhyngetal]

🍃Tógfaidh mé mo thinne inniu i láthair na nDéithe naofa neimhe, i láthair Bríd is áille cruth, i láthair Lugh na n-uile scéimh, gan fuath, gan tnúth gan formad, gan eagla gan uamhan neach faoin ngréin, agus NaohmMháthair dom thearmann. A Dhéithe, adaígí féin i mo chroí istigh aibhleog an ghrá Dom namhaid, do mo ghaol, dom chairde, don saoi, don daoi, don tráill, ón ní ísle crannchuire go dtí an t-ainm is airde.🍃 Tradução: Eu construo meu fogo hoje na presença dos Deuses Sagrados do Céu. na presença de Brigid da forma bonita na presença de Lugh de todas as belezas sem ódio, sem inveja, sem ciúmes, sem medo ou horror de ninguém sob o sol porque meu refugio é a Mãe Sagrada. Ó Deuses, acendam o fogo de amor dentro do meu coração, por meus inimigos, por meus parentes, por meus amigos pelo sábio, o ignorante, e o escravo da coisa mais humilde até o nome mais alto.🍃 #dhyngetal #brigid #brigit #goddess #deusabrigid #paganismo #paganhearth https://www.instagram.com/p/B77IdCqB0eJ/?igshid=1o9hz7ej0w2jv

[g-oodgirlfaith]

THANK YOU TAYLOR - for neimh the idol that are all deserve!

You are glorious slice of rainbow 💕💕💕

Sitting here v sick at the moment but these bits of happiness on th fandom are makin me well 💕💕💕

[southangelvideos-blog-blog]

Belvédère de Dunlewey - Parc national de Glenveagh - Comté de Donegal - Irlande

Coordonnées GPS:  55°01'29.2"N 8°06'56.1"W

Ce belvédère est situé sur la route R251 au pied du mont Errigal.  Il offre une splendide vue panoramique de la vallée Poisoned Glen dans laquelle se trouve l'église de Dunlewey, du massif montagneux de Derryveagh et du lac Dunlewey.

Pourquoi une si belle vallée porte un tel nom?  Il semblerait qu'une erreur de traduction aurait causé cet imbroglio, le mot irlandais neamh signifiant le ciel tandis que le mot irlandais neimhe signifierait le poison.  

[premierdetroit]

8 Reasons Why Google Analytics Data Will Never Match Your Facebook Insights

Please CLICK HERE to visit Neimh mcGlynn for the full article. The data in provided by Facebook Insights and Google Analytics is different, which can lead to mis-matches. Here are some of the variations you need to be aware of.   Premier Detroit SEO

[tenaciousnerdobservation-blog]

As I delve deeper into this Social Marketing class, I think that one of the most important things to do is to really entangle myself into what it means to be a social media marketer.  Social Media Marketing is, generally speaking, a very new thing that not many people are familiar with.  

According to Neimh McGlynn, there are 5 things you must do in order to land a role as a social media marketer.  

The first is to not “limit yourself just to social media.”  You must be well-rounded, and become knowledgable in all business and marketing aspects.

You also must be well acquainted with all social media channels, not just the couple of most popular sites.  Instead of just using Facebook, it is important to become familiar with other sites such as Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Pinterest and whatever other social media channels well suit your product or service.  It is also important to know how to best utilize those channels by posting at the most effective times.

In order to land a role as a social media marketer, or most jobs for that manner, it is also important to be professional.  On social media especially, it may be easy to get caught up with people who are being rude behind a computer screen.  McGlynn’s suggestion for dealing with this? “Don’t say anything you wouldn’t want to be on the front page of a newspaper.”

The fourth tip is to understand that you are always learning.  Social media is a transformational thing.  There are always new, booming social media platforms and new updates to the existing ones and you have to stay in the loop.

And lastly, you have to build your own network.  Become familiar with other brands within your social media community and people in order to see what is currently working and what isn’t.  This is also important because it helps you to have a community of people who you are already connected with.

[noonelikesthesunset]

neimh started following you.

Hello there, and thank you for following this MJN Air blog. If you have any questions or comments, do feel free to direct them toward my inbox. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the duration of your stay. 

[scotianostra]

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald.

(Not to be confused with Mary MacDonald/Great Mary of the Song another great Gaelic poet)

Mary MacDonald, born in 1789 at Dalnacarn near Bunessan daughter of Duncan MacDougall and Ann Morrison, was a poet of some prowess. She lived with her husband Neil MacDonald and ten children in a basic dwelling enduring crofting hardships of the period.

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald.compose the worldwide known verses entitled ‘Leanabh an Aigh’ (Child in a Manger).The fourteen verses she composed has assured Mary of her niche worldwide. Arguably the most famous gaelic tune in the world, the lovely Cemelody to which it is sung is centuries old and is called "Bunessan." Many people will know Bunessan as the name of the tune of Cat Stevens 1972 hit 'Morning has broken'.

She also wrote a lament for her drowned daughter in law and a song about her husband's smoking habits and his bad temper when he couldn't get his tobacco.

There aren't many full versions of Leanabh an àigh online, but I did manage to find one sung beautifully by Angus MacLeod

Leanabh an àigh, an leanabh aig Màiri, Rugadh san stàball, Rìgh nan Dùl; Thàinig don fhàsach, dh'fhuiling nar n-àite Son' iad an àireamh bhios dha dlùth.

Ged a bhios leanabain aig rìghrean na talmhainn An greadhnachas garbh is anabarr mùirn, 'S geàrr gus am falbh iad, 's fàsaidh iad anfhann, An àilleachd 's an dealbh a' searg san ùir.

Cha b' ionann 's an t-Uan thàinig gar fuasgladh Iriosal, stuama, ghluais o thùs; E naomha gun truailleachd, Cruithfhear an t-sluaigh; Dh'èirich e suas le buaidh on ùir.

Seo leanabh an àigh a dh'aithris na fàidhean; 'S na h-ainglean àrd, b' e miann an sùl; 'S E 's airidh air gràdh 's air urram thoirt dha - Sona an àireamh bhios dha dlùth.

'S ann am Betlehèm thàinig an sgeul 'S binne da threud na teudan ciùil; Armailt nam Flaitheas is aingle neimh Ag àrd mholadh Dhè 's a' seinn a chliù.

Èistibh an fhuaim le sgeula nam buadh A dh'aithris na buachaillean o thùs; Gheibh sibh an t-Uan sa phrasaich na shuain 'S e shaoras a shluagh le buaidh 's le cliù.

Teagasg a Rìgh dhuinn slighe na sìthe Nad cheumaibh dìleas cùm sinn dlùth; Thusa bha dìleas dhuinn o shìorr'achd Urras ro chinnteach air ar cùl.

Neartaich ar dòchas, meudaich ar n' eòlas Cuir sinn nad ròidean dìreach dlùth; Le ola nar lòchrain mar ris na h-òighean A' seinn ann an glòir an òrain ùir.

Translations vary but this one by Gaelic scholar and journalist Lachlan MacBean seems most popular.

Child in the manger, infant of Mary; outcast and stranger, Lord of all; Child who inherits all our transgressions, all our demerits on Him fall.

Once the most holy Child of salvation gently and lowly lived below; now, as our glorious mighty Redeemer, see Him victorious o'er each foe.

Prophets foretold Him, infant of wonder; angels behold Him on His throne; worthy our Savior of all our praises; happy forever are His own.

[fanficfreekspn]

1-4: Sometimes, Faerie Magic Sucks (5)

☙𝟙❧  |  ☙𝟚❧  |  ☙𝟛❧  |  ☙𝟜❧  |  ☙𝟝❧  |  ☙𝟞❧  |  ☙𝟟❧  |  ☙𝟠❧  |  ☙𝟡❧

Dean and Sam opened the trunk of the Impala and began to load up on equipment as Drystan looked over his shoulder. "Nice arsenal," he nodded.

Dean stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You’re a hunter too.”

"Bounty hunter," he shrugged his shoulders. "What exactly do ‘The Winchesters’ hunt?"

"Monsters," Sam looked between the two men. "And so does Lily."

"Monsters?" Drystan looked confused.

"All of the creepy, crawlies, and faerie tales you were told as a child are true," Ian smirked. "The Winchesters come from a long line of folks who protect the humans from them."

Dean turned a cautious eye to Ian. "How do you know that?"

"Nothing in the universe is a coincidence. Neimh knew what she was doing when she gave birth to both Drystan and Lilwen. They are warriors who protect the descendants from the evils unleashed on the Earth."

"And just where do you fit in all this?" Dean asked.

"I was sent..."

"Yeah, we heard. Three of the four of us is related to Lily by blood. Why are you here?"

"As I said... nothing in this Universe is a coincidence. My business with her is my own."

"And that's where we have a problem," Sam straightened up. "We're taking a big chance with Drystan, and he's apparently kin. You are not necessary."

Ian let out a sigh before raising his hands. In the matter of seconds, he placed an entire download of information into the three mens' minds. It began with the fact that Ian and Lily were bound souls, bound for eternity from the dawn of creation to the end of time, the betrothal agreed upon between Einion and Lilwen upon her birth, what the blue markings and swirls that occasionally appeared on her body meant, and that in the future they would be married.

They were silent for a moment before Sam spoke. "So she has no say in anything?"

"She has a say in everything, as proven by her test. She chose to be a part of both families. That was never planned, never forseen. We were born with these abilities and urges, but how we react upon them is completely up to us. Our will is free."

"So you're here, trying to protect a person who may not even want to be with you?" Dean looked confused.

"I'm here to save the other half of my soul. What she does with it is her own business."

〈⍟ Part 4 •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾ ⍟ ☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• Part 6 ⍟〉

[fanficfreekspn]

1-2: Curses All Around (4)

 ☙①❧  |  ☙②❧  |  ☙③❧  |  ☙④❧  |  ☙⑤❧  |  ☙⑥❧  |  ☙⑦❧  |  ☙⑧❧ 

Dean and Sam watched as Lily strapped blade after blade, daggers of all sizes to her legs and waist as they prepared for their trip. Suddenly, an extremely gutteral growl echoed through the room and they turned to Sam.

"Oh my God," he placed his hand on his stomach. "This is miserable."

"I couldn't even sit down to buckle my boots," Lily complained. "This Biccus the Brave is a big bag of dicks," she complained. 

"So how do we get to an invisible city?" Dean loaded his gun and slipped it into the back of his jeans.

"First of all, projectile weapons wont work. Leave the guns here."

"No," both brothers answered.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but we do need to look respectable," she waved her hand, changing herself not only into her true form, but her full fae glory.

"You're sparkly," Dean stared at her.

"And girly," Sam looked worried at his sister's green gown adorned with gold celtic knot work. 

"Is that a tiara?" Dean's eyes widened.

"Shut up," she waved her hand again, changing them both into ornate leather vests and trousers, with boots and bracers on their arms.

"Is this Ren Fair crap necessary?" Sam looked less than thrilled.

"Charlie would love this," Dean mumbled.

"You are the half-brothers of fae royalty. It will just be long enough to get Oberon's blessing," she pleaded.

"You both owe me," Dean pointed to both of them. "Like more than just a case of beer, I mean big."

Lily cocked her eyebrow and turned to Sam. "If it means I can go to the bathroom again, I'm good with that."

"Hell yeah," she snapped her fingers and in a flash, they were gone.

.

The three opened their eyes to find that they were on the edge of a forest, a thick mist setting in.

"Ah, the Mists of Avalon," Dean looked around. "Not as magical as I thought."

"Avalon means 'The Isle of Apples.' We have to make our way through the mist to a bridge that will take us to the island," Lily looked around as her eyes began to glow gold. "Stay together," she took a step as her brothers followed.

"How do you know where to go?" Sam stepped beside her, to her right.

"I don't know," she chewed at her lip. "I'm working on pure intuition right now."

"Now might be a good time to commune with the Borg, sis," Dean suggested.

"We're too close to the four kingdoms of the Sidhe. I have no desire to meet up with the Fam today."

"I see a light," Sam pointed out as they turned and followed him. They arrived at a stone path that led through the mist and to a bridge. The mist magically stopped just at the bridge entrance, but blocking that entrance stood a satyr with large, lovely, magnificent horns.

"Who desires entrance to the Isle of Apples?" he asked.

Lily curtseyed for him before clearing her throat. Sam and Dean bowed as the three stood. "I am Lilwen Manon, daughter of Neimh, granddaughter of Manannan and Fand, great-granddaughter of Llyr. I ask entrance with my half brothers in order to seek audience with Oberon."

"That is King Oberon..."

"He is not my king," her eyes once again began to glow.

"No, I suppose the granddaughter of Fand is not one of King Oberon's fae."

"May we pass?"

He stepped back and bowed to her. "Yes, of course... Princess Lilwen."

She nodded to him before walking onto the bridge and rolling her eyes. 

"Nice job," Sam chuckled.

"Princess," Dean added.

"Kiss my ass," she mumbled as they made their way.

Once at the opposite edge of the bridge, they were met by two faeries with wings. "Follow us," they turned and hovered over the ground as they led them down a path to the palace. 

"Why don't you have wings?" Dean asked.

Lily pursed her lips as Sam did his best not to smile. "I'll give you wings if you don't..." they were interrupted as the gates opened and they were led down a series of corridors.

"Oh my God, how big is this palace?" Sam complained.

"The more you bitch, the longer he'll make it," Lily informed him.

"My lip is zipped," Dean made a motion to zip and lock his mouth.

The finally took one last turn and arrived at a set of enormous carved stone doors. The faeries waved their hands and opened the doors as they were presented with yet another long walk to Oberon's throne. As they approached him, Sam and Dean were taken aback by his pointy ears, long, blond hair, and antler crown. As they arrived at the foot of his throne, Lily once again curtseyed.

"Princess Lilwen," Oberon nodded. "What brings a half-breed of Danu to my court?"

"My brothers and I are in need of your assistance, My Lord. We ask only for a small favor.""

"A favor?" he offered an amused smile. "From me? Surely your grandmother would be more than happy to see you."

"The curse I wish to break specifically asks that I obtain faerie blood blessed by you."

He cocked his eyebrow. "A curse?"

"A curse, cast back when the Romans invaded Britain. It is archaic and I would imagine at the time thought to be impossible."

"And what faerie would be willing to give up their blood for your spell?"

She swallowed before answering. "Me, My Lord," she answered as Dean and Sam turned to her.

"Are you sure the blood of a mutt will break the curse?" he dug his claws into her, waiting for a reaction.

"I am a fae in Avalon, My Lord. If taken here, it will be pure."

"You are educated in our ways, at least. I would assume that has something to do with your family's genetic memory."

"Danu was wise when she connected us all," she agreed.

"I will bless your blood, child, for one small item in return."

"And what's that?" Dean blurted out.

"A vial of her blood," he didn't bother to look at either human at her sides.

"You would be able to work blood magic on her," Sam spoke up.

"Your human pets are versed in the ways of magic," he smirked.

"My brothers... know a great deal of many things, but Sam is correct. What use have you with my blood?"

"Insurance, my dear, in the event that Fand would turn her army on mine any time in the future."

Her eyes glowed gold for a moment as she consulted the collective. As they returned to their normal blue. "The House of Llyr has agreed."

"Wha... think about this, Lil," Dean begged her.

"It's been decided," she answered as she produced two vials of blood in her hand. She waited as Oberon rose from his throne and stepped down to accept them. He took them from her hand and stared at them for a moment before holding his right hand over them. 

"Bal dor, aer, tan ha dour, me bennigañ man gwad," his eyes glowed silver as he spoke, blessing the blood by the powers of earth, air, fire and water in Ancient Breton. His eyes returned to normal as he placed one vial back into her hand.

"Thank you, Oberon," she again curtseyed.

"Thank you, Lilwen. I look forward to seeing how you serve the fae in the future."

She looked at him oddly before turning and walking off. As Sam and Dean caught up with her at the doors, Dean grabbed her arm. "What was that?"

"My family agreed," she spun around to look him in the eye. "They're not going to help with the curses. We got ourselves into this mess, we'll have to get ourselves out."

"You gave him power over you, Lily. He can use your blood for basically anything he wants. To curse, to summon, to imprison, to bind..." Sam scolded her.

"Don't you think I know that?" she hissed. "What choice do I have, Sam? Exactly how are you feeling right now, because I feel like absolute horse crap! I'm tired, thirsty, and hungry, I haven't sat down in hours, and I'm starting to bloat up like a stuffed turkey!"

"Okay," Dean waved his arm between them. "Let's get back and finish off this one so we can decide exactly how we're going to get a demon's heart."

"You can summon Crowley while we..." Sam pointed as they began to walk away.

"You know... Crowley?" Lily asked slowly.

"The King Douchebag from Hell? Yes," Dean rolled his eyes. "I doubt he'd be willing to just hand us over a heart, though."

"You never know," she again bit on the inside of her lip as her stride quickened.

Sam and Dean stopped and looked at one another before following her.

《--¤  3       Part      5  ¤--》