|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 7:34 am
There is something just a little absurd about Macaire now: he gets the same thing for himself that he gets for her, a pie and some juice. He treats it just like a child -- licking his fingers and everything -- with a grin on his face for the treat and for the story he is about to tell her.
"Yer folk be warrior folk, loike oi said. The very very first O'Donnchadha .. oh, his tale is a good one! They dinnae do things the same way back when, ye ken -- a man like a king, he could have mair than one wife and none there were would think any different on it. His ma were a likkle lass, the king's second wife. King's first wife were a mean auld hag, who had sons of her own. So she goes to the king, and she says tae him that he's got to pick who 'tis that t'will become king when he's dead. And he sets them a mort of tests, and Niall -- that's your'n ancestor -- he passes 'em all.
"The last test were a simple one. The sons be sent out intae a wood tae get water, roight? Ainly was know that the only well be guarded by an old carlin, an ugly auld witch!" He makes a face, presumably mimicking the old woman's ugliness for her, before he continues. "And when the princes came tae her, she asks them fer a kiss in exchange fer water. And them boys, they all refused! It were ainly yon first Donnchada who gave her a kissin', and when he do, ye know what happened?"
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 1:47 pm
Faye stared at him with rapt attention, soaking in every word. It was only a childhood of street-life that prevented her from completely forgetting her treats, though she took slow bites, almost mechanical. The words sounded foreign to her, yet at the same time almost familiar, like a half-remembered dream. Faye could not see why anyone would want to marry a bunch of people, but then, she did not want to marry even one, so maybe she was in no position to understand either way. Old people were weird, anyway.
Still, she was fascinated with Niall's feats of bravery and courage, though she wrinkled her nose at finding out he kissed the ugly old witch. But maybe that was a test, too. And anyway, the old witch could hardly help how she looked. Maybe she was pretty when she was younger, or maybe she just wanted to feel pretty for once in her life. Wasn't that what kissing meant?
"What happened?" she asked, every inch the enthralled child. "Did she give him the water? Did he get to be king?" Then, she glared suspiciously. "Did one of the other men steal the water from him?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 16, 2012 9:13 pm
Macaire only grins at her expression, setting aside his half-finished pie to spread his hands out in front of himself. "Nay, nay! She wouldnae have let them, for she were mair powerful than any of they could know! When he kisst her, she became a beautiful lass with hair loike flame, fer she werenae a woman at all, neither auld nor young. She were the spirit of Airelund itself, who had decided that she would be the one tae have the choosing of her king. And she chose Niall, yer ancestor, and there were nigh on twenty-five kings by his line, in the years ever after!" He beams at her as he finishes the tale, picking back up his pie -- only to discover that he is just a moment too late. Having taken too long to provide Cadence with flowers, the young Guardian had decided to investigate the pie instead, and has found it precisely to his liking. After having offered Lethe another flower or two, now he is hastily devouring the rest of Macaire's berry pie, with tail-wagging enthusiasm, staining his entire face with the stuff. "Ach, lad, ye couldnae leave me any?" [Niall of the Nine Hostages; Macaire's version is edited somewhat. The story that he refers to is under "Accession."]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 17, 2012 7:35 pm
Her face was lit with awe as Macaire described the transformation of the witch into a beautiful woman. The spirit of Aireland itself! Wasn't that amazing? Who would have guessed such a thing. It was such a fanciful tale that Faye did not immediately connect it with herself. In fact, it took her several long moments to remember that legends were based in truth, and hadn't the professor been teaching her how to tell those things apart? The spirit of Aireland may not have been there, but that didn't mean that Niall hadn't become king, or that his descendants hadn't been kings and queens...or that Macaire had said that he was her ancestor.
She could only stare at him in shocked disbelief.
"You mean...my ancestor was a king?" It was hardly fathomable. From pauper to princess in a flash? Now that was a faerie tale. It was true that she had gone from the streets to a comfortable home overnight, but this was an entirely different level. "Are you sure he was my ancestor? You don't have the wrong Donohues do you?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 20, 2012 9:42 pm
"Oh, yon O'Donnchadha be an auld, auld line, lass! 'Tis mair than jest a few of them, ye ken -- but they all be from the same line. There be -- oh, five nor six clans, from different parts of Airelund." This last he says very carefully indeed, for although it is a truth it is also a hard one, and to walk the line between being realistic and crushing someone's hopes is a frightening thing. He is not certain whether he would prefer that she had some idea of the scale of an Aireland 'clan;' on one hand, giving her an idea of the hugeness of such family lines would hopefully cause her to be patient with his search. On the other hand, he does not want to have her despair of any chance of success.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 21, 2012 8:18 pm
That sounded...very complicated. How big was a clan? Was a clan another word for a family, or did clans have a bunch of families in them? What made one clan different from another? And who kept track of these things, anyway? Macaire had barely answered one of her questions and already she had dozens more. It was beginning to feel like an insurmountable task.
Faye fiddled with a braid.
What had the professor been teaching her? Why, to focus on the task in front of her. Just take care of one piece at a time and everything would be done before she knew it.
"What makes the clans different?" she asked at last.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 24, 2012 8:46 am
What makes clans different? Macaire opens his mouth and then closes it again, apparently finally having difficulty with one of her questions. How does he even begin to explain? What's a clan? What is it to breathe? What is the sky, or the ground? He looks down at Cadence in bewilderment, as if this can possibly help him, as Cadence cleans his hands of any last trace of berry pie. " .. 'tis hard tae explain," he apologizes, with a rueful grin. "They be a bit loike a family, ainly closer and a slew bigger. A family be who watches ye when yer a babe and changes yer nappie, a clan is who ye get yer history from. Ye obey the Ceann Fine, that's the leader of a clan, even ahead of yor own father."
He tweaks Cadence's nose to get him to stop licking, then continues. "Me ain clan, the Draughn, be small but very, very auld. The O'Donnchadha be both auld and very big, sae big that they split intae mair than one clan -- but a Donohue what hails from Kerry t'would still call brother a Donohue from Tipperary. They jest wouldnae obey the other's Ceann Fine, ainly their own."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2012 5:14 pm
"Oh," she uttered quietly. She had sometimes wondered - they all had, really, the urchins - what it would be like to have a family, a home, a history that someone cared about. And here he was telling her that she could still have some of that, even with her parents dead. She felt at once both a terrible longing and a strange desolation.
"Then how can you find anyone in a family so big?" Was that what was bothering her? It may be part of it, perhaps, but not all. Whatever it was that she was feeling, it was bigger than that. It was bigger, really, than she knew how to put into words. And it was so foreign that she could not even figure it out herself, let alone try to explain it to another. For now, she decided to delay the fruitless struggle for a later date. She could figure it out after this man was gone, when she could no longer question him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 27, 2012 10:39 pm
What he does not say, but suspects, is that he won't be able to. There's always a chance -- it never hurts to try -- but they're much more likely to find a Donohue what's never even heard of Faye, who'd nonetheless welcome her as their own. But she is too young to tell her this, he thinks: besides, he hasn't the heart or the courage to manage it. So he ruffles her hair with one hand, and if his tilted smile is just a little sad, maybe she won't notice. "Oh, oi've a few thoughts as tae that. Fer one, any as has lost them sich a lovely wee bairn as ye willnae forget ye, oi'd wager."
He is quiet for a moment, looking at her, looking at the Guardians, with some other painful thought rolling around in his head. Hell and high waters -- she's so young, too damn young to have a Guardian with all that entails!
"Who is that's got the raising of ye, yer ladyship? Will they mind ye be having me look fer yer kin?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 5:44 pm
...barn? He called her a barn? ...maybe it meant something else to the Aireish. Besides, she was a little too preoccupied with what else he was saying to worry about his weird accent. Or rather, what he was not saying. She'd seen that look before. It was usually on the faces of the nicer people when they gave a little food to a begging urchin. It usually meant that they pitied the urchin, but not enough to really do anything about it. In this case, she was not much sure what it meant. Maybe Macaire pitied her, too.
She looked away. His pity was not something that she wanted, and it hurt more than him telling her that she would never find her family would have. She clutched at Lethe's soft fur with one hand.
But then he asked his questions and she was distracted from her own feelings. The professor! Would he be mad that she was looking for her family? Would he be sad? It wasn't like she wanted to leave him. She just wanted to know more about her past. That would be ok, right? She didn't want to hurt him, but she was too terrified to lie about it. What if he threw her out because she lied and he found out about it?
"He won't be mad, right?" she peered up at Macaire with worried, pleading eyes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 30, 2012 9:34 pm
It's almost a pity that neither of them have the powers of a hedge-witch, to see in another's thoughts: if it's pity Macaire suffers from, it's got little to do with her lost family, and a great deal more to do with the creature whose closeness is providing little Faye with comfort. It makes him ache, how young she is, to think of what she might see as she gets older. He does not want little Faye to turn into a fighter-of-wolves. He wants to tuck her away somewhere where she'll be safe and happy and sweet as she is now forever.
When she turns his question right on its head -- isn't that what he just asked her? -- he blinks at her, startled. Well, she is a wee little thing, and he's got her all fired up over knowing her family .. he cain't be too surprised when her thoughts get all twisty as the thoughts of young things are won't to do. "Oi donnae know, for oi donnae know him. Will he lissen tae an auld soldier? Oi could ask him for ye."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 4:53 pm
Those expressive brown eyes went from distraught to hopeful in an instant. It was as though she were lost in a cavern and had seen a ray of light at long last. "Would you?" Her voice was an awed whisper.
Any thoughts that the professor might not be pleased that she brought home a stranger she had just met when she was out alone when she was not strictly supposed to be were long forgotten in favor of a much bigger problem. Was it cowardly of her to let Macaire explain things? Probably. Did she care? Well, she was going to be there, anyway. She could help explain.
That decided, she beamed at Macaire and hopped to her feet. "The professor is coming home early today. We live this way." With that, she started off down the street, glancing back to make sure he was following.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 3:52 pm
Inwardly, Macaire strings together every foul word he knows at his own inability to keep his mouth shut or deny someone with big eyes anything. He should never have come to Sunderland -- what is it about this country? This is going to be twice now he's been up before nobbles in one year! And the man's got to be some kind of nobble, because them as are working stiffs don't have the leisure to call themselves 'professors,' do they? And if that weren't enough, he's been waylaid by a pair of big eyes every time he's turned about, and managed to talk himself into doing things he'd never had dreamt of before, all for the sake of their sweet smiles.
He manages not to sigh, but he regards Cadence with a slightly doubtful look; the last time he tied the fawn up in someone else's garden it didn't end well. " .. aye, lass, o'course! P'haps on the way there our wee mites kin make friends, and mayhap me lad here willnae cause sae much grief to someone else's home." He nudges Cadence, who puts his ears back as if mortally offended, then stands up with a sigh that seems entirely directed to his Guardian.
"Lead on, lass. 'Twill be an honor tae shake the hand of one who's taken such care with a lass of me own homeland."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
