Ronan O'Connor sat with his family in the quiet sanctity of St. Mary's Cathedral. The priest here was of open mind, his support over the last years since he came home, invaluable. His eyes went mirror bright as the vision hit him.

In the future mists of time, he saw his son.

A quiet cheer sighed across the room as the couple at the center of the celebration pushed through the door.

Gaia, still taller than most men, her back ruler straight, and her long silver braids tucked into an elegant coronet, stepped down the three stairs from the entrance way. She turned to help Harry, as he reached down with his ebony and hawthorn cane. His once black hair as white as the linen gracing the tables.

Such an odd couple. Harry not truly a dwarf, but a miniature man. Perfectly proportioned, his powerful chest and arms strong supports as he limped down taking the stairs one at a time. In today's politically correct world, they were called little people, but how was that any different from dwarf or midget? Small is small, Cardamon's thoughts skittered from greeting to healing. When had Harry's hip gone out?

Alanna caught his eye, she'd finished her pre-med studies, and come to learn more about his tonics this summer. He nodded, and she came across the dance floor to where he stood observing.

"We'll have to fix that hip, before they leave." Her speaking voice was like a soft velvet cocoon.

"Aye, I'll get the blood stones," Cardamon said as he headed out the door. His home, given to him as the oldest child, held the spirits of generations of Murphy's.

Ronan took a deep breath. He didn't know most of these people, but the sign draped across the pub rafters said it all. Diamond Anniversary. Harry was indeed destined to marry the lovely lass they came across at Murphy's pub. The girl with mischievous deep blue eyes, was Harry's one true love. The shortcut he tried on the way back from Dublin was fated as well. The tallest girl he'd ever seen and Harry? He chuckled. The whims of the Goddess were never to be argued.

Trust such a vision to come to him in the great cathedral. The quirks of fate made him smile as he knelt for the blessing. Christmas and Yule were a time for reflection and prayers. Never mind which of the Gods he petitioned.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Harry!"

His shout echoed through the kitchen.

"Yes, Papa."

His boy was growing up. The piping voice of boyhood replaced by a melodious bass completely out of place in his undersized body. Ronan doubted his son would be more shoulder high to him. Harry came down the hanging stairs from his attic room.

"What do you think about taking up the conclave's invitation to Samhain festivities in Cork? We'll take Erin and your mother along. Sorcha has been pining for some time away from the farm."

"Cork? At the castle ruins? The McCarthay's castle?" Harry's emerald eyes lit with anticipation. "I might see my own true love again. She'll be older now. Perhaps she'll remember me."

"You've never forgotten her, have you."

Ronan's statement was more of a question than he intended.

"I won't either. I gave her the amethyst didn't i?"

"You did at that. You said it was charmed to keep her safe. Why?"

"I found it walking along the shore one day. I never told you the story. Seemed like I should keep it private between myself and the great Goddess Airmed."

Ronan cocked his head as he held Harry's gaze with a piercing stare of his own.

"Tell me everything."

"I wasn't supposed to be out. My throat was so strange, and my voice was deepening. Remember?"

Ronan nodded.

"Not an easy time for a boy who is constantly teased about being a runt who will never grow up."

The surprise on Harry's face had him standing. He walked over to the cabinet opening it and retrieving the bottle of fine whiskey he kept there.

"I think I'm going to need a drink."

"I wish I was old enough," Harry said.

Ronan reached up to the top of the dark stained oak highboy and grabbed two crystal highball glasses.

"You might not be old enough by law, but I think we are about to have a man's conversation. You deserve a man's drink, son."

Ronan poured a finger's worth of richly scented liquor into each glass.

"Sit. Tell me the story."

He pointed to the armchair across from his. He read his newspaper there, usually in the evening while Sorcha did the darning or amused herself knitting one of the many sweaters and socks which kept them worm through the bitter winter rains.

"Thought I kept the bullying quiet," Harry said.

"Erin made sure we knew. She said you protected yourself. The look on Sean Byrne's face was comical when he found himself thrown back by your magical shield. I didn't think it was necessary to bring it up."

His son nodded.

"Thank you."

"The story of the amethyst, son," Ronan prompted.

"You are destined Harold Niall O'Conner. The children of your child will be the end of many and evil. You will have to fight for and with her to convince her she's yours."

Harry's eyes popped open. He sat on his favorite boulder, eyes closed listening to the rhythm of crashing waves with the sun spreading warmth on his shoulders.

"How did you get down here?"

The path down the cliff was slippery with sea spray. He barely managed the steep descent with his heavy work boots, the woman in front of him wore kid leather slippers.

"I am Airmed. Goddess of healing. I have a gift for you. To guide you."

The Goddess was beautiful, her hair billowing in the wind, a deep brown with glinting red highlights. Her face kind, and her gown a simple white muslin. Her feet shod in slippers which looked like they were more made for dancing than walking a rough path.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his eyes. He knew of all the Gods and Goddesses. They called them regularly for rites at the stones and even for the small ones in the oak grove close to their farmhouse.

Airmed's laugh tinkled around him.

"Here."

She dangled a deep purple crystal set as a pendant on a chain of heavy silver links between her fingers. It weighed enough to make him think there was something very special about the necklace he caught when she tossed it carelessly toward him.

"Keep it with you. You will know when you see her. It will heat, knowing who it belongs to. It will keep her safe through her trials."

"She was gone in a flash. The amethyst was such deep purple I almost thought it was black until I held it up to the sun and dark violet flashes exploded from it," Harry said as he finished his story.

"I've only seen them in my visions, Harry. And I had one today. I can tell you you will find her again. And perhaps even this Samhain. Your lives a twined together. I had a brief flash in the pub too. I think it's time to remind her you still exist."

"You didn't need to tell me, Papa. I've known it in my bones from the moment I laid eyes on her. And me barely fourteen. It's been a few years, but the stone nearly burnt me as I pulled it from my trouser pocket. I never showed that necklace to anyone before I threw it at her. I couldn't believe the Goddess chose a giant for me."

Harry's disbelief was written all over his face.

"All I know is you can't argue with the Gods. Embrace your fate son. You won't be able to change it."

"I wouldn't if I could. She's the most beautiful girl in the world. She always will be for me."

"As my Sorcha is for me. Fight for her son. It will be worth it."

"I wonder, Papa. What twists does the Goddess have in store for me and mine?"

"Eventful ones I'm sure."

Harry nodded.

"Something to look forward to then."

Ronan raised his glass.

"To the future. May it be bright and keep you safe."

Harry touched his drink to his. The sweet ring of the crystal echoed his toast.