Assigning Blame

Assigning Blame
As the door clicks closed, Danu turns her attention to the stricken Isolde. Her heart bleeds for the pathetic mass quivering on the floor. She reaches her hand out to Isolde. Isolde huffs and bats her hand away. 

“I do not need your help,” Isolde tries to sneer but her words barely make a sound.

“My child, please!” Danu extends her hand towards Isolde again. This time, Isolde takes her hand but her grip is weak. Effortlessly, Danu lifts Isolde from the floor. She places her gently on her feet. Her eyes fill with sympathy and despair for the fairy.

Once Isolde’s composure returns, her eyes glaze over with hatred. She growls at the deity, pushing her away. “I do not need your sympathies, Danu!” 

The deity does not move. She remains placid, staring at the heart-wounded fairy. Her thoughts swirl around how this could come to such turmoil, millenniums of anger and hatred. Isolde could not truly love Ainmire. The ice fairy was never capable of love. This must be possession. 

Danu remembers when Ainmire was evil. The hell he rained down on the earth. He procreated with any form of creature and sired many children, each which he breathed his hatred into. If it was not for the purity of their mothers, Danu would have eliminated many from this world. Ainmire desired to destroy innocence. He preyed on it.

Was Ainmire’s reign of terror, Isolde’s doing? Danu thinks of the soft-hearted man behind the door. She thinks of the kindness he now shows and the love he has for Branna and his children. Then she remembers the venomous hatred he just displayed towards Isolde. There is no warmth in his heart for someone who should have been his first love.

While Danu is pondering the situation before her, Isolde makes her way towards the door. She tears it open and the stream of explicits that escape Isolde’s lips draws Danu’s attention back to the moment. She waves her hand and the door slams. Isolde screams. Danu hears Ainmire and Branna murmuring behind the door. 

Judgement must be passed on this fae. That is what Danu is here to do. She is not here to correct the past, nor to understand it. Judgement on Isolde is purely on her actions. Were they necessary for her situation? Had Isolde asked The Cailleach to freeze Ainmire’s heart or had she simply asked her to make Ainmire fall in love with her? Danu recollects Isolde asking that of her and her refusing.

Was Danu’s refusal the cause of this pain? She shakes her head. This is not her fault. A god cannot simply make someone fall in love with someone else. That is a violation of all that is holy. That was toying with emotion, a very risky thing indeed. Danu prides herself on leaving love to the lovers and never meddling. Giving blessings is not meddling, it is helping to keep love alive. Is she just rationalizing her actions? Is she too a bad guy in this scenario?

Doubt churns in Danu’s mind, as she wonders what judgement to render. Isolde has been locked away for hundreds of years. Her isolation was regarded as necessary for the salvation of the world. Was that punishment enough for the judgement Danu is about to pass?

As if Isolde could read Danu’s thoughts, she spits out, “I do not care how you judge me. I will kill that woman and her bastard child. My Alroy shall rule. His reign will be more glorious than Ainmire’s ever was.”

A warm blanket woven in gold materializes from the air. Danu manipulates it to wrap around Isolde, trapping her in its folds. She watches as the blanket glows around the ice fairy. She hopes the magical heat will penetrate Isolde’s frigid exterior and begin to warm her heart. Maybe if it can, judgement will not be necessary.

Isolde tears the blanket from her body and throws it to the ground. She spits on the golden fabric and an icy mist forms above it. Danu sighs. Her hopes of creating a reasonable creature out of Isolde are faltering. Soon she will have no choice but to condemn her.

“Isolde, my child,” Danu turns toward the fairy offering her an expression of warmth.

“Do not call me that,” Isolde spews through gritted teeth. “I am not your child. I have never been your child.”

Danu corrects herself and begins again. “Isolde,” this time the name comes out in a short contrite manner. “Isolde, I will ask you a few questions. Please try to answer them truthfully. Your answers and behavior will determine how you leave this room.”

Isolde frowns and bites her lower lip. A small trickle of blood runs down her chin. She releases her lip. Small red blood marks are visible on the skin. She only glares at Danu.

“Isolde, do not make this harder on yourself.” Danu says sternly.

Isolde drags air across her teeth in a slow hiss. The ice in her eyes fighting the fire of anger. She leers at Danu and replies, “Hundreds of years in an iron dungeon, what can be harder than that?”

“I can imagine that was not easy,” Danu tries to temper her words.

“Not easy,” Isolde scoffs. “I did not realize you were the god of understatement.” She closes her eyes and a hideous laugh escapes her throat. “I was alone. Trapped in nothingness.”

“You were paying for your transgressions,” Danu steals her words. “The penalty suited the crime.”

“What transgressions was I guilty of, oh gracious god?” Isolde’s question drips with sarcasm. “I was protecting what belongs to me.

“You killed someone.” Danu retorts.

“I have killed thousands of someones. What made her so special?” A sickening grin crosses Isolde’s face. “Besides from what I can see,” she sweeps her eyes towards the door, “she is far from dead.”

“That is of no consequence.” Danu brushes her hand through the air dismissing Isolde’s argument. “Now, you will answer my questions.”

Isolde curls her lips and clicks her tongue, “As you wish, oh holy one.”

Danu ignores Isolde’s sarcasm and begins her interrogation. “What did you ask of The Cailleach?”