A Secret Revealed
Me grandchildren were anxious to hear more about Beannaithe when the next story time came about. I did not disappoint them:
'Old Fikta felt his age upon him more and more with the passin' of each year. Havin' reached his two-hundred and fiftieth year and knowin' that his endin' were near, the Dwarf decided it were time to return his Dóttir to her people. For the first time in nearly eleven years, Fikta followed the path leadin' to the secluded vale where the village of Lyndelby were hidden.'
'Did he die?' asked Daibhidh.
'Don't get ahead of me story, lad,' I said. 'All will be revealed before the end,' I added cryptically.
The eyes in their wee heads widened, but they said nothin'. The tension in the room were palpable.
'As Beannaithe were led into the vale she felt a twinge of familiarity, although she did not know why. The perfume of wild flowers and the resinous fragrance of spruce and pine somehow seemed comfortin' to her. Fikta watched his young ward for her reaction to her homecomin', but she gave no outward sign of recognition.
'Fikta now had a decision to make. The Dwarf were reasonably certain he knew where Beannaithe had come from, but not to which family she belonged. He decided it were best to carry on business as usual and hope that someone recognised the lass.
It should come as no surprise that the good folk of Lyndelby warmly welcomed the Dwarf back to their village.'
"Fikta, it is good to see your returnin'" said the village baker. "I'll bake some of your favorite báirín breac ("barmbrack") straight away."
"Aye, thank'ee, Master Baker," said the Dwarf with a smile.
"Nice to see ye again, Fikta, after all these years," said the village seamstress. "We feared the goblins had et ye."
"No, not yet," laughed Fikta. "Aye, you're right, it has been a might bit too long between visits."
"And who is this fine young lass with ye?" the seamstress asked. "Is this your daughter?" The seamstress privately thought the lass too álainn ("pretty") to be a Dwarf, but kindly manners prevented her from sayin' so.
"Of a sort," the Dwarf stammered. "She's more of a foundlin', to be truthful about it."
Beannaithe were dumbfounded. This were the first that she'd heard that she weren't the Dwarf's actual daughter. Her mind were suddenly filled with confusion and doubt. She'd wondered why she had never before visited this village with her faðir ("father"). Now she began to understood the reason.
"Don't worry none, lass," Fikta softly said to Beannaithe, "We'll get this sorted straight away. Just leave it to your old pabbi ('dad')."
Although her head were spinnin' and her heart were poundin', Beannaithe did her best to appear calm so as to not worry the old Dwarf. She smiled at Fikta pretendin' she either had not heard or did not understand what he'd said to the Hobad ("Hobbit") woman.'
Just as me grandkids began yawnin' their mothers entered the room.
'Pardon me interruption but it's time this lot went to bed,' said me daughter Ériu.
'Can't we stay up a wee bit longer?' pleaded Darowva.
'No, lass, I'm afeared not,' said Banba. 'If ye stay up Daibhidh will want to as well. The poor lad can barely keep his eyes open as it is.'
'I'm awake!' protested Daibhidh.
Banba smiled and tenderly stroked her son's hair to calm him.
Fódla scooped up the already sleepin' Beacha into her arms. 'Oíche mhaith, Daidí,' she whispered to me.
'Good night, me darlin's,' I softly said to them all.
