"We are agreed?" I heard my mother say as I finally arrived at the creche where my daughter was being fawned over. The detour to deal with Indrajit resolved for the moment.

"Dara Seans de Irvin is a fine name," my father agreed. "She is clear evidence that the Tuatha de Danaan and Fairy act with mercy. She is a gift and a symbol that Irvin has been restored and healed."

Dara Seans de Irvin loosely translated meant Irvin's Second Chance. The name was as much promise as a testament to the fact that the ritual to awaken the Sithern had also kindled a rebirth of my own. This daughter, a child that I had never believed would be possible because of my horrific injuries, would be cherished for who she was as well as what she represented. She was a symbol that Fairy could be benevolent, that the Wild Magic was benevolent as well as capricious, and that the fertility rituals were powerful.

Naming her Dara Seans, Second Chance, I would have to be careful that I didn't raise her as a symbol instead of as a person. It would be a great evil to expect her to embark upon a life that honored my hopes and dreams, instead of her own. I needed to be careful not to coddle or influence how she matured and allow her to grow into the woman she was meant to be, the woman that she wanted to be and not the symbol I believed her to be.

"It is settled then," I said as I entered the nursery, nodding my head towards my father who was forced to look on from the side, unable to separate my daughter from my mother as she clutched the child tightly to her chest.

"Dara Seans de Irvin is a fine name," I agreed as I moved to take the sleeping child from my mother's arms. She fought my claim for a few seconds, not wanting to release my daughter even to me, but eventually, sanity won out and for the first time since her birth, I held the precious gift that Fairy had awarded me.

Someone had swaddled her tightly, a soft blanket made from Kelpie hair that was collected from our horse's form. There was an art to using Kelpie hair, collecting, carding it, spinning it into yarn, and knitting or crocheting blankets was a unique tradition among Kelpie families.

The blanket my daughter was wrapped in had been created from my mother's or father's fur, which was also a tradition. Once Dara reached her maturity, I would begin having my fur brushed and collected so that I could present any child she might have with a blanket of her own.

My brother, sisters, and I had all been kept warm and ensconced in the smell and feel of the family with blankets made from hair collected by our grandparents. If Dara had been conceived and born a child of my body instead of a child of my soul, I would have had the time to collect my own fur and knit the blanket that would become an heirloom, that I could use with all of my children.

Perhaps with my next child. Now that my fertility was restored, the dream I'd long had of a happy herd of children could be realized.

I was honored and touched that my parents would allow the use of their own birthing blanket for Dara to use, their own personal heirloom to keep my daughter safe and warm. I would have to make sure Saanvi knew of this tradition, and that she took the time to collect and create her own keepsake before she gave birth, now that she was Kelpie and pregnant.

"Garr has sent word to all Kelpie Herds asking for volunteers to relocate here," my father informed me as I lost myself in my daughter's eyes. It had taken a bit of work to open the blanket enough to allow me to examine Dara closely. Mother had wrapped her well.

Once I had freed her, I acted no differently than any other first-time parent, counting toes and fingers making sure they were all there. Peeking quickly to see that she was a girl, examining her facial features, and making sure that she was healthy and whole.

She was beautiful, a burnished brown bundle of perfection. She had all her toes and fingers, chubby cheeks, a pink rosebud mouth, and hair of riotous browns. She was not happy that I kept her from sucking on her opening and closing fist. I offered my fingers to her to grasp instead of allowing her to suck on clenched fists.

When she opened her tri-color unfocused eyes to try to understand what was going on, I looked deeply into the lipid pools of chocolate, the freshly kindled life that looked at me, angry and demanding at my temerity.

Love at first sight existed. Here in this first moment of introduction, my heart swelled with such emotion that it could not be contained. My parents must have anticipated my actions because they erected a barrier to protect and ward the rest of the nursery from the explosion of aura that I released, the joy and happiness that I experienced erupting into a Domain.

This first glance, this love so deep, sparked the aura of protection that every Kelpie Herd Lord was able to release. A domain created by deep emotion, a domain that mirrored the natural affinity of the lakes and fields that our people aligned with.

There were so many first that I was hoping to experience with my daughter. Her growth as she learned to sit up, crawl, walk, run, and talk. So many moments that I planned to cherish, even those moments of tears and pain.

But this first moment, this first meeting, awoke my Power as Herd Lord. I would see her protected and as a Herd Lord. As Host to a Sithern. As the son of House Teigh. I now had control of a Domain that elevated me to a Power in my own right.

She must have agreed with my thoughts, pleased as the explosive nature of my aura washed over her, and decided to give me my first moment to treasure. Her first smile. And the first time she would urinate on me. My father's loud guffaw also allowed me to experience her first tears as she began crying in fear at the loud noise as his hearty laugh filled the nursery.

Urine, tears, or laughter. I didn't care that this moment was so plush with events. Each was precious in its own right. Each, a memory that would last me a lifetime, a connection between grandfather, father, and daughter that would weave together the tapestry that tied us together for eternity.

I cherished this moment, drenched in urine, holding her tightly to my chest as I began to sway, patting her back lightly to ease her fears and still her tears, and exulted that this perfect individual was a part of me.

"Lord Irvin," Saanvi's maid, Manju said as she approached. "Would you like me to change her?"

She had managed to scrounge up diapers and wipes, not hard to do in a nursery. The Sithern would have provided. It was too soon to turn her over, to trust Dara into the care of anyone else. I ignored the tears streaming down my face, the looks of compassion from my mother, and the continued laughter from my father as I moved to take care of Dara myself.

Mine.

My daughter.

A second chance to live the life that I had hoped for.

And as I cleaned her bottom, as I triggered the enchantment on the blanket so that it was freshly laundered and ready for use again, I gloried in my new position. I was a father, and for Dara Seans that was more important than anything else I might become or that I might aspire to become.

I didn't care that I was changing dirty nappies like a smiling loon, completely lost to the wonder and miracle of this new life. Dara didn't mind either as she settled, her whimpers and tears ending and a sense of trust and contentment growing, replacing the moment of fear my father's laughter had caused.