"Husheen brìdeun. Your time draws near. Soon ye'll be out and cryin up a storm," Uecla cooed to the restless babe in her belly. Soon she would bear the child she'd been carrying these nine months, since that warm Lugnhasadh night she lay under the stars with Amlaidh Áth-Caomhnóir, sweet roving honey-tongue of Éire and Cean Tir. She wondered where he was now, whether he would return and if he ever thought of her. She thought of him often, but then she had special reason to besides their passion. Not only would she give birth to the Ceannmhor of Dún Oíche's first ogha on Beltaine, a significant time for her people, but he - or she - would be the descendant of princes and queens on both sides. Her father was of the Caith aristocracy and her mother was from a long line of Ulidian nobility. And from what Amlaidh had said of his own lineage, he was a Lochlann prince, a Fílídh Rua and a son of the Iascaire Rí of Eilean Arainn, among other things. The concoction of healing herbs Uthach had steeped for her was starting to take effect. Uelca was grateful to have her cousin's help. The young lass was a delight to have around and blessing to her tuatha. Everyone had warmed to her instantly. Uathach in turn had accepted the Oíche into her heart and helped out in any way she could. She'd even stopped teasing Uurad mercilessly, except when he deserved it, which was most of the time in her opinion. Uecla chuckled fondly at the memory of her ire when Uurad had threatened to throw their bags into the Liffy. Feeling content with life, she folded her hands gently on her stomach and sang a lullabye until she fell into a deep sleep and dreamt about taking her newborn to the bonfires for the Ard Draoi's blessings.