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Mature Thread Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
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Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór Offline
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Post: #11
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
There it was; the anger she could cling to and wrap around herself like a coat of emotional armour. This she could handle, this she could use... although Aithne wasn't sure what it was that she needed it to hide or protect. Barbed stings in the form of angry words bit at the armour as Aithne stood silhouetted by the open doors. The robe fluttered about her as though the breeze had picked up, though it was more likely a small inch of her magic pulling the air around her. Aithne's skin had even begun to glow slightly with the call of her Draíocht, it was the one indicator of who her father had truly been since she knew no other of her blood who could call the light to their flesh at any time of day.

"Aye, there comes change and having to bring shit into order..." Aithne's own voice was low, a fierce kind of calm as she stared out into the growing night, into the mist that was covering much of the city from view, "You tried to tell me why things happened, you tell me why you're so feckin defensive of your fam'ly... But you never once told me that you considered me a part of that feckin fam'ly!" Aithne's voice rose considerably as she turned golden eyes in Niall's direction to glare daggers.

"You never told me anything I needed to hear! Even behind closed doors where no one would hear or see what you call feckin weakness! I AM NOT MORRIGAN! I AM LUGH! I am the daughter, the last remaining direct child, of the damn Sun Lord who slew his own one-eyed grandfather! He did not hide his emotions like some wound that he was scared someone would poke, he wore them like feckin armour! So you tell me how I was supposed to ever know what you truly thought or felt! How could I have known that..." Aithne clenched her fists and ground her teeth as she turned her face away, once again glaring at the outside world instead, "That you feckin loved me."

The air swirled around the golden figure even feircer, her almost knee-length hair pulling around her body slightly, flying across her face. Frustration, anger, bitterness... did all that mean she had cared after all? Who was she trying to fool? For a woman who had spent her life believing whole heartedly that the only person she could ever truly rely on was herself, to have ended up with a consort, with a child, perhaps there may have been a time when there was a sliver of hope.

"You're a feckin fool, Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór," Aithne's voice had lowered again, "To believe that one wouldn't care enough to shoulder your burdens with you, if you had only shown that there was feckin more..." And truthfully, back then, back when she could have still tried to push back to this city and force her place back on the High Throne, Aithne would have happily taken some of that burden... But the lack of communication had prevented that, it had drowned out any chance of truly knowing anything that bothered one another, and any chance at knowing what was real and what was not. Aithne was not a mind reader and she trusted only herself. Even now, complete trust was a difficult thing for the woman to give to anyone.

As she heard the door, Aithne wondered if maybe that was the end of it, though the voice that spoke clearly wanted that last piece of something, and she didn't know how to answer. The air died around her and Aithne's body slumped slightly to the side until she was leaned against the door frame. This exhaustion, where had it come from?

And dampness on her chest. Aithne glanced down to see droplets on the silk robe, before reaching a hand to her cheek to wipe at the wet streak that ran down it. When had that started? Why? She wiped at the other cheek, though it seemed that her eyes were going to betray her anyway. Of course she cared, at least on some level that she had yet to work out now that all this truth had been slung at each other, leaving barbs sticking and opening old wounds. She was not heartless, no matter how hard she tried to be that way, she was her father's daughter and years of trying to be otherwise had taken its toll on her. But she had also made room for another she cared for in her heart over the recent years as well, even if little had come of that. Did that mean a possible place still existed for Niall as well? He was the father of her daughter... Aithne would not have made a father of someone she didn't like at all. Too much conflicted inside her.

How could Aithne possibly answer his question? Her answer was in the tears that refused to stop even as she tried to will them away while she stared into the mist-filled night, the way her slumped shoulders shook ever so slightly, the way one arm tightened around her body as though to hold her together, and the way her other hand now covered her mouth so that she would not release a sob.

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(This post was last modified: 05-12-2013 11:24 AM by Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór.)
05-12-2013 07:28 AM
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Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór Offline
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Sidhe


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Post: #12
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
She began a tirade, and angry statement of why she was so infuriated with him. Niall was use to these statements, he had heard it before. Once, once when he had met a simple Morrigan girl living in the city of Mists. They had met on one excursion and even after he had been a womanizer she had accepted him. Aoife had been her name. Aoife had been a low-born woman, a fierce bar owner he had fallen for. Like a complete utter fool he had even tried to bring her up into the nobility. It was one of the moves that had given the enemy Fine a move against his family. It was not long after she had perished that he had taken up his daughter Grainne.

"I am a fool," he said to himself as he took a moment and went over all she had said. Emotion as armor? The concept was alien to him. The Morrigna did not do this, this was not part of their nature. If their emotion was not kept in check they would rise to any slight and destroy their enemies in devious forms. To show how he was truly feeling was to show his weaknesses. He was not a Nemain, he had to have some form of self control. However, this woman was making some sense, if any. The notion did sit fine with him for few moments to say the least. His eyes were on Aithne for the longest time, his jawline tightening as he fought back the tide that was growing in his form.

The proud grand-daughter of the sun lord himself. Niall thought to himself. The sense of pride he saw in her in that statement was interesting to say the least. There was outright pain in was more than just evident in her voice it came in an emotional cadence that poured from her soul. His reaction was to careful lift his eyebrows and then feel a wrenching sensation in his chest. This was snot directly his blame to take, but he had contributed to her current state. At the same time something drilled in the back of his mind. The game is never ended, remember. It was many years ago that Niall's combat instructor had started off with each lesson with a quote about the life of the Gentry. 'In every gambit there is a loser, pained and broken; and the winner. The winner is given only sorrow.' The words rang out in truth right now as he sighed.

"Pure, old or whatever." His words came to him suddenly. The man slowly removed the great raven mantle and set it aside. Feathers scraped the ground as he slowly, but surely take a a few steps out to the balcony. The feathered mantle fell to the ground as he leaned against pale carved stone railings that ringed the balcony. What happened next was strange, strange for him. Niall glared at the sky, and for a moment he felt the anger building again. It was the anger that had taken over Morrigan when she had orchestrated the grand slaying of the hero of Ulster to the mortals. It was the anger and wrath that had manifested when the Dagda had wronged the woman.

"FECK IT ALL!" he said as a strike of lightning lanced from his hand and lashed out to strike at the sky. He took a breath as he looked at her and steady himself. This was not the time, yet he had given into those stupid idiotic foolish weaknesses. He was the fucking leader of a warrior nation, not some simpering prince.

"The war ruined much, it ruined many lives. However, by the will of Danu itself I will not let feckin history dictate how things should end. I AM NOT that type of person, so either you can deal with me in your fucking life, with me giving a damn about you. Or you can tell me to fuck off, but fine, that is why I am here."

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(This post was last modified: 05-13-2013 05:39 PM by Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór.)
05-13-2013 03:58 PM
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Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór Offline
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Post: #13
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
Aithne wondered just how long she had held in these tears? Decades, perhaps. They felt like something that had waited for a long time, but once she embraced them and allowed them to flow then she began to feel some kind of peace, some relief. Only two men had ever been able to pierce that tender damaged part of her that she held together with all her strength and thought she kept completely armoured against such pain. She thought that she should be surprised that Niall was one of them, but she wasn't. It was like she knew that one day this would happen. Maybe she had been waiting for it, maybe she'd been hiding from it, avoiding the inevitibility.

Still, even as the tears began to slow and dry on her cheeks, she stared out at the city, or what she could make of it through the mist that rested over it. Niall's approach was quiet, but she had managed to relax at least a little as he passed her to stand on the balcony. Aithne wasn't sure what to expect next, though a part of her felt almost refreshed. How much had they held back over years?

Niall's sudden outburst, both vocal and electrical caused the woman to jump in surprise though, before she stared at him a moment, not quite sure what to make of it. Clearly something had just pissed him off... or perhaps it was simply a release of pent up emotion and frustration. That seemed the more logical view. Aithne met his eyes and then glanced out at the city again as he spoke and she listened. She could understand what he meant, she had also found herself not wanting to let the past decide what the future held. She looked at him again, and wondered if 'loved' really was meant in past tense when he'd said it earlier.

"You can do it again if you want..." Aithne spoke softly, "Strike at the sky, yell at the heavens... you can break something, kick something, or simply sit down and look exhausted and tired and even sad. You can do that around me, even if just behind closed doors." The woman held his gaze, her own almost seemingly searching for something, "You don't need to hold back what you're feeling when you care about someone, you should let them know what's going on, allow them to help carry some burden if you're in pain, and let them know how you really see them."

There is another I should tell this to. Aithne pushed the thought aside for the moment, she would deal with that a later date. Right now she had to try and figure out how to answer Niall.

The golden woman straightened, pushed herself from the door frame she had been leaning against, and stepped toward Niall. Stopping in front of him, Aithne had to bring a hand up to move some of her unruly hair from in front of her face -- she really had to keep it tied back when calling upon the Air. "Ugh, I'm a mess," The mumble was barely audible beneath the annoyed sigh as she cleared the golden strands from her features and offered an almost-smirk, before she looked somewhat serious again.

"Look at me properly, Niall... but when you do, give me an indication, something that lets me know how you see me right now, what you really truly think of me, everything you feel right at this moment, even if its just more frustration because I'm a pushy stubborn cow..." Aithne placed a hand on his chest, just over his heart, "If you want to be in my life in any way, then you have to learn to share with me more. Besides..." Aithne's smirk returned just a fraction, "Didn't you ever notice that I'm not scared of you or your anger? Its because, even through the confusion and miscommunication, I always trusted that you would never harm me. That's a truth for you."

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05-14-2013 02:59 AM
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Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór Offline
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Post: #14
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
He could do what he wanted? That was not what he needed to he really. Niall rarely allowed himself such outburst. the notion of even letting the wrath of his blood getting to the point that it had reached was unfathomable. At this point his focus was searing back into clarity as he stared from the balcony. Cool air was starting to make its way into the gardens that made up the compound of the Elk. He held up his hand breathed as the wind seemed to cease. Magic sizzled along his body as he created a counter current to end the breeze as it was not refreshing as it was more annoying.

Niall's hands were those of a warrior, and a soldier. A general who had carved through flesh and cleaved bone to make a life that had placed him at the forefront of the Gentry of the Great Coill. Calluses covered his fingers, his tumb, and palm in a patch were response from years of working and holding onto the leather grips of his weapons. Strong muscular arms were attached and tendered to those hands. Along his upper body was a well framed chest, and torso with strong bone and muscle. Covered by his leine there was little for Aithne to see as he turned around to face her.

Those eyes, his deep moss green eyes looked at her as he felt his jaw getting tense.

"I shall do a bit more of what ye suggest in thaw future eh," he said. His mind was once again starting to move back into the gambit. This was how he thought and this was how he viewed the world. Some played his viewpoint into the meaningless movement of lesser childish puppets and play. No, the game was a more advanced idea of how to deal with life; of how to survive and succeed over the those around him. This was how his Fine and Clann would rise above, this was how he would defend his folk and his family. She does not understand, for now His thoughts would remain closed to Aithne for a time, a portion that is.

"You were always a mess, always gettin' into trouble. Why do ye think ye hav' sa much charm, eh?" he said with a laugh. It was a braze laugh erupting from his mouth. The Raven Lord tossed back his head and led the great thunderous sound fill the air. It was a true laugh, one of mirth and one earned after so much pent up wrath. Having been wroth with so many ill-actions contriving to drive him mad. Even in an utter state of disarray she was the daughter of the sun god. How to express his thoughts? There was no real way. It would be like explaining his dark charm as nothing other than that of a war born child of an ancient death goddess. A simple way did not exist.

"What I really think?" he said aloud. The notion was far to perfect and his laughing stopped when she made the words plain to him. Were the truth, or was it a trick? That was the problem with the Sidhe race, they were always stabbing each other for self gain. His posture changed as she walked toward him and came to stand near him. Part of him wished to reach out and holdthe poor woman, and embrace her. That part however was from the old Niall, times had changed. He had said not to let the past dictate the now, but it was a sense hard to fight.

"What I really think," he intoned again.

The pondering he would have to take would require at least five minutes, if not more. Carefully he though, and ran it through his head. Again back to the game as his frame tilted a bit and he placed a hand around his bearded chin. His fingers were there for a while and then he replied.

"I will give you the truth more, if you listen and do not retort please," he said with his words selected carefully. Niall would have to think it over with discernable concise attention to what he said.

"My thoughts are this: I feel you pull away. Aye, I am what was made of the past, and I understand how I am much I am brash and what I do not tell you. I will work on that. But, you left, and you took Seren with you. You could have stayed with me, become Banrion of the Coill and instead you came here. I am just getting over that. My daughter spends more time with what I hear are Iron bound criminals."

He crossed his arms, "I think you are too focused on Cymru, then what is before us. What is coming. Hordes of riders in the west, the Aesir uniting under one King again. These are my thoughts."

"We need a High King or Queen, soon, or our lands will fall. We need more than a High King, we need to fill Nuada's former place once again."

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05-16-2013 06:51 PM
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Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór Offline
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Post: #15
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
It was difficult to tell whether Niall would take her suggestion under consideration, but if it was true that he wanted to be involved in her life then she had to trust him at his word. Trust... such a difficult, painful thing. It could cost lives, and leave hearts shattered; it could destroy the most confident person. Was it that which had caused her to fall? Aithne's thoughts wandered a dark path, one she had tried to push to the back of her mind for ninety odd years, but it had remained. But right now was not the time to think on it again. It was a suspicion she'd harboured all to herself over the years; something that caused her to view the world as a whole much more harshly. Bitterness tried to envelop her, but Niall's voice still speaking returned her to the present and she pushed the feeling away.

"Cursed to be charming, even when I do not try," Aithne murmured, though the laugh caught her off guard. Was he laughing at her? Or was it a compliment of sorts? Again, she was doubting and had to drown out the questions in her head. She was her father's daughter, and he had charmed and inspired gods to unite and fight his grandfather's army. Nuada had placed his faith in Lugh, allowed him to lead them into battle. How could someone such as she live up to that?

Aithne gave Niall his time... however long he needed to find his words. And when he finally did speak, she listened without interuption, as he requested. And then she dropped her hand from where it had been placed on his chest, and turned to stand at the edge of the balcony, staring at the now darkened city.

There was nothing that the golden woman really could say anyway. She wasn't sure if she could ever explain all that had happened to her beneath the surface. She couldn't tell that Niall would ever understand anyway. There was always more to everything. Deeper stories, hidden meanings. But more than anything else was the great feeling of frustration within herself, aimed at herself. She stood still, so much so that she could have been a golden statue. And then she spoke quietly.

"I am truly sorry that I caused you pain..."

A knock on the door to the room caused Aithne to turn toward the noise before stepping back inside and walking toward it, "Come in." She said clearly, and the door opened slightly so that a short woman with light blonde hair could walk in, looking rather concerned.

"Are you alright, Lady? There's a..." The woman's voice lowered to almost a whisper so that only Aithne would hear, as she spied the reason why there was a Raven guard outside the room. "Oh, I hope I'm not disturbing, I just... that balm you wanted, for your back. You mentioned it was paining you a little earlier. I just finished making some." She was holding a bowl with a balm mix. A treatment Aithne had been using for the occasional pain she'd had since the ambush so many years ago, the recipe having come from a healer in the Coill. The woman looked hesitant though, "I can come back after." She said quietly.

"No, thank you Hettie," Aithne smiled politely, "I can take it. If I need help I can find you." She accepted the balm, and allowed the clearly nervous other woman to leave. Aithne breathed in the scent of the balm and it smelled like dense forest. She then set it down on a small table by the futon, and stared at it while she wrapped her arms around herself, a reminder of when it all went to shit.

"I remember being terrified..." Aithne spoke aloud, "I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life. All I could think was that Seren had to live; I was almost certain that I wouldn't make it. I also remember wishing you were there to protect us. At some point, in my mind I had begun to believe that as long as you were right beside me, then I would be safe and could continue to do what I needed to for Cels." But Aithne had learned that she wasn't safe, no matter where she was or who was with her. Confidence in herself and in others had been broken by one attack while she'd been vulnerable.

"I'd finally managed to have Clanns working together, I was preparing for the inevitible invasions, and it all fell apart because I lost faith in the people of Cels as a whole after that attack, when I recovered from near death to find that everyone was fighting each other... and the sad part is... I believe it may have been one of my own people who tipped off the attackers in the first place, to my travel route," Aithne rubbed a hand over her eyes, "I'm sorry. That, none of it, its not a retort... just frustration at myself." She could feel the twinges in her back and couldn't decide whether she needed another drink or to just sit down.

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(This post was last modified: 05-17-2013 09:59 AM by Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór.)
05-17-2013 04:07 AM
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Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór Offline
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Post: #16
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
This affair would prove in the days to come to be one of woe, sorrow, and in many ways self wallowing. The sense of negative that dwelt within the air was so great at times during the meeting was so great at times he felt a bile growing in his stomach. The feeling had grown to the point where he wanted to vomit at times. Bile was no simple matter and in general the Raven Prince assumed it was upsetting his humours in general. After he had told her how he felt and thought Niall found himself falling into a deep brooding. A sense that grew as Aithne listened and gave small responses.

How to describe it? Ever since that day she danced with that silly Abhean I've had an interest with her. The wording in his brain was strange, which caused his face to give an uncertain expression for a few minutes. Aithne admitted to being a slight cause of pain for him and at that he turned to stare back into the greater room. Where did that whiskey go? I need a drink to soften this scit. Whiskey would be nice at this point. The blessings of the barley was one of the greatest creations ever wrought by the sidhe. Then he heard a knock at the door.

A strange little woman entered (she appeared to be Ua Lugh like Aithne) which caught his attention. She and Aithne spoke in silence away from his range of hearing. Then the woman mentioned something about balm, that would be useful.

"My mother almost took my arm off once," he said and took the balm as she held it up to him. "I challenged Sorcha for her seat and she taught me a lesson by jamming a spear into my clavicle."

As he watched her he lifted up a free hand to twist a silver ring he was wearing. The emblem on the ring was a stylized sun with some words written in Ogham. Once again he was quiet as he looked at her and admired her form and golden skin. The offer of the balm was a goddess send in many ways. For the past several hours his shoulder start to ebb with pain and finally was aching now. The balm would be a reprieve for him.

The truth was that throughout his history he had always been a pain to his mother. Raised through fostering and always under the auspices of his mother, who spent several years battling the family of his father. When the RavenEye had made war on the BlackBird, his mother had eventually slain Niall's sire in combat. As he took the balm he sat down on Aithne's little futon and removed his leine to reveal the lightly tanned skin of his muscular lean torso.

She was talking again and he listened. Explaining her reign and the plans she had. The memories pooled in and he began to dance among them. His plans for many gambles he had wanted to play out. Truthfully, at this poitn his focus was on retaining what he had, and what he could build. The High Kingdom was in a position where they needed to unite, and build a stronger foundation for the future.

"Its not a retort lass, but you are showing all the works you could have done. I've had a similar feelin," he said as he leaned down and applied the balm along his neck and shoulder.

He pondered the truth at the moment and removed the silver ring from his hand. "You think I forgot ye? I had this made to remember ye and Seren."

Niall then handed her the silver ring engraved with a stylistic sun. The silver ring was strong and thick with a raised outer emboss. The Sun sat in the center of the top section of the ring. Engraved on the outer part of the rest of the ring's was bordered by small etchings in ogham. It was quite large in her hands as he gave it to her.

"You can guess what the sun represents."

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(This post was last modified: 05-19-2013 12:08 PM by Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór.)
05-19-2013 12:02 PM
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Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór Offline
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Post: #17
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
The momentary interruption provided by Hettie, and the balm that was brought in by the woman were both something of a relief. Aithne had been able to get her head and her thoughts together, even if she felt like maybe she had rambled and wondered if Niall understood what she was trying to say. The simple fact that she had wished for him when she and Seren had been attacked by Flidais, meant that his presence had once provided a kind of comfort to her. Maybe it didn't matter anymore. She couldn't tell what was real or not some of the time these days.

"I remember," Aithne spoke quietly, in response to Niall's story of how his mother had almost taken his arm off, "You told me about the conflict a long time ago; that day by the river after I caught a wild horse and we raced on horseback." That really was going back a long time, and she was a little surprised she remembered the details, "I was teasing and taunting you, and you complained that I was almost as bad as Sorcha... I believe you ended up cutting my clothing off in order to try and embarrass me, but I simply rode back to the city." She grinned a little, eyes shining with mirth at the memory.

That was before she'd become High Queen, Aithne realised as she thought more about it. That had been some time in the months prior to the election, she couldn't even recall if she had been a candidate for the High Throne yet at that point. It had been a simple unexpected meeting after having met the first time in a tavern during which she'd teased him then too, before going to dance with Brianna.

Strange the vast amount of information that minds could recall from memory.

As she returned to the present, Aithne noticed that Niall had taken the balm for his shoulder, the first indication that it had been paining him tonight. She sat down next to him, though was slightly surprised when he handed her one of the rings he'd worn for goddess knew how many years. Aithne had never really looked at it though. She placed it on her lap for the moment, however and grabbed the balm back, "I also remember from living together that there was a part behind your shoulder that was more difficult to reach without causing more pain, and you would mutter and curse under your breath, stubborn creature that you are, until I took the treatment salve from you and helped." With that, she applied some of the balm around his shoulderblade and the more difficult place to reach.

The golden woman then sat the bowl down on the table as her own back met her with a series of painful twinges. She picked up the ring once more to examine, and was taken aback slightly by the sun, "You wear my symbol..." Why hadn't she noticed this before? She couldn't quite recall how long he'd had the ring either. Noticing the ogham, Aithne read out aloud what it said:

"The Sun Shall Forever Shine."

For a moment, Aithne was silent, unable to really articulate what went through her mind at the knowledge that Niall had worn this, been carrying it with him wherever he went. She settled for placing the ring back in his hand before reaching up with a free hand to cup his cheek so that the could lean up and place a brief gentle kiss on his lips.

Pulling away quickly after, Aithne looked away, looking for something to focus on before her eyes fell on the balm again and she considered the pain that ran over most of her back, "Would it be too much to ask for you to make yourself useful after helping yourself to my balm, and help me with application?" She reached around to tap herself on the back, though the marks of what pained her were covered by silk currently, "I don't think I really need to explain or remind of the mess that was made of my back..." It had taken her quite some time to recover from them, after all, while being treated for the injuries she'd sustained, hidden away from the world at Niall's home.

With that, Aithne turned to face away from Niall and slipped the top half of her robe off her shoulders, letting it fall from her back and arms before pulling her hair around to one side and over the front of her. She leaned forward a little, the shining scars that littered the golden skin on her back there for the world to see while she waited for some relief from the pain they caused.
(This post was last modified: 05-21-2013 04:44 PM by Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór.)
05-20-2013 02:27 PM
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Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór Offline
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Post: #18
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
The event where he had cut off her dress. Those were the days. The days. I am coming to despise that term. It should be impaled and the creator sent to the ice wastes. It was a term created for those who liked to spend their days reliving the past and not looking toward the future. For a minute he had an image of a little man termed 'the days' in his head who he was decapitating. At that point though he was thinking more and more about the time she was talking about. The days when he use to chafe under his mothers iron fist. That was the time before all the scit happened. Only one real way to characterize the series of events that became the Clann War was to elegantly (and sarcastically) term it, the scit.

The story Aithne brought up was one that he cherished. A prank that had started their relationship in a way. Well, not just that prank, a series of pranks upon each other. A cascading effect of actions and jokes played upon each other over a series of encounters. Perhaps it was that very beginning joke where Aithne had teased him with Brianna that one evening in the Angry Woad. That thought brought him towards wondering where the heck the woad had gone. The bar had disappeared during the Clann War. At that time the City of Mists had become a veritable no-man's land. A place where Clanns could easily break out in Gang War as their counterparts fought in the field.

Only the city Gardai had held it all together. He respect those stubborn bastards to the current day.

Why had she not seen the symbol? Ah, yes that question. I ordered it made after that prank I played on her. The strength I came to respect and my gambles leading toward other things. In a foolish move I found one of the top high assayers of the region to find the best silver he could. Expensive scit from bloody north it was. Norlander Silver, how or why, but apparently the best stuff came from there the assayer had said. Then there was all the work into creating it to the exact percision he ordered. By Danu herself he must have gone through at least fifty rings before the damn silversmith had produced something he liked. Over time the smith had designed a mark and concept for the Chieftain which had met Niall's harsh approval.

"This be a mark of love lad, do it well!" he had cried.

"I had it made after a few encounters with ye, a sort of strange token that ended up being a mark of affection," he replied. The truth was he hated showing off this side of himself. The whole mushy thing wasn't really him.

After her little pause of silence she cupped his cheek and kissed him. The man's green eyes widened just a tick as he looked at her. Gone was the furor that had been meeting him since his arrival, and now she was calm. The complexity of Aithne daughter of Lugh was not something he wish to ponder. Whoever quoted the concept of a 'riddle wrapped inside of a mystery inside of an enigma' or in layman's terms, a fucking hot mess. If there was any other way to put it, he could.

When her robe was downed, a bit he said, "I most certainly will oblige mo banthiarna."

Niall turned around to face her and with balm in hand held out the jar. He set the ring down astride him on the futon as he took a heaping bit of the substance in his ran land and began to slather it on her exposed upper back. Even after all these years he could still feel the scars on her back, and every little tick of anger came back. For a moment he stopped and ran the names that he had killed and was going to kill in his head.

"You need to take better care of yourself," he commented.

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05-21-2013 05:37 PM
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Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór Offline
Child of Danu
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Post: #19
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
It was difficult, but Aithne managed to mask her surprise when Niall admitted when it was that he'd had the silver piece made. All the way back then? I wasn't even a candidate... barely more than a woman who had lived her life by the sword and spear, and for whoever paid me the best for my work. But maybe he had betted on her becoming involved in the politics that were going on during that time. Maybe it had been an investment. I need to stop thinking that way. There had been enough said tonight for Aithne to know by now that not everything about them had been to do with power or importance of their positions. It was a concept that was much more simple, but which she found difficult to consider still.

Perhaps that's why Aithne had given him that kiss; to let Niall know that it did mean something to her. To a woman who had lost everything as a child, who had nothing but herself and her charm when he met her, and yet he'd still seen something worthwhile in her then.

Glad for the reprieve from pain among other things, Aithne sat with her head ducked downward, while she held her hair across her front as Niall applied the balm to her back. She was still unsure what to say, it seemed that so much had already been spoken that there was little left aside from trivial things that mattered not in the larger picture. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the calloused hand that ran over the reminders on her back, that she almost might not have been here today. Aithne still barely remembered the few days or so after the attack. She recalled passing out once reaching safety, sure that it was the end. And then brief glimpses of voices and faces. And then she woke one day at Niall's home, laying on her front, while he sat nearby with Seren in his arms.

"You sound like our daughter," Aithne responded softly to the comment from Niall about taking care of herself, which snapped her from her thoughts. "She tells me the same. But then, I suppose I will probably run out of chances one day. Next time, they might actually take me down for good, eh?" Her voice was calm as she spoke, but Aithne always felt uneasy about how she always seemed to barely escape the wolfish people who wanted her bloodline gone.

Without even knowing it, Aithne had relaxed back a little against the sensation of the familiar hand running over her skin, helping to ease her pain. It was almost cathartic in a sense. Seren was probably right, Aithne had been starving herself of simple pleasures for perhaps too long. But that didn't mean she was going to do anything stupid and she made sure to keep her exposed front respectfully turned away from the Raven Chieftain -- whether he'd seen it all before or not.

Remembering the ring of Niall's, the golden woman smirked just slightly to herself, "You had the ring made only after having met me a few times, when I was a simple wild rogue. I might not have become a candidate, or High Queen, or ended up in even my current position at that stage, you know. You'd have still worn a ring that symbolised a woman who only survived off her own wits and strength and had little to nothing to show for it?" She raised her brows as she turned her head to glance back at Niall over her shoulder, offering a small smile with a hint of fondness and teasing in the expression, "I may have always been a mess, but you've always been an odd and impulsive man." And then she chuckled softly and moved to begin pulling the robe onto her arms.

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(This post was last modified: 05-22-2013 10:43 PM by Aithne Uí Lugh-Mór.)
05-22-2013 06:26 AM
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Niall Ó Mórrígan-Mór Offline
Child of Danu
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Post: #20
RE: Truths & Roses Have Thorns About Them (Niall)
To measure the kiss? How to truthfully measure it? That was a question he would come to ponder for a while. I'll be telling the kids about this for years to come till I'm old or speared in war. Or someone shoots me with Iron like me mam. He had to focus on the lighter memories, the memories that created amusement. The Morrigan were known for their anger, but also their tendency of keeping grudges, silent ones, but long ones. Every scar on the woman's back was a slight that went into Niall's little book for future targets. Each one would be given time served, and a little more for the damage done to the daughter of Lugh.

His hands were careful in spreading out the balm. A sense of worry came over his muscles as he watched her skin for the moments when she tensed. Then there was his focus on catching any little mews of pain or gasps showing where the balm was needed most. Another truth to be told about the Raven King was that few things could really bug him or get to him. There was a sense of cold hearted humor about the man most of the time. Maybe it was why many considered him nothing more than a master and a gambit.

"Heh, no matter how much she looks like ye she's got me personality. Should meet her sister Derdriu, quiet thing, but always gettin' in me face about proper shit. Too bad I had to fight tooth and nail to get her out of the damn valleys of Prydain," the man said. His words were said in low quiet voice the one of consideration. Her words were in a way lightening to him. Why had so much care really been applied by him to a Ua Lugh? Strange, strange strange. The word rolled around in the mind of the Raven for a moment. Tumbling along it bounce as his hands massage her tired back muscles.

Well feck me over, strump me up and call me Aoife! Me own daughter thinks like me eh?

"Not a soul is gonna take ye down lass, Seren, meself, an yer future sons and daughters won't let it happen," he reassured her with a simple chuckle. Laughs for him only came in boisterous thunderous sound that came with pleasure or mirth. Then there were those chuckles and snorts he made when he was simply amused, or in this case to dismiss any doubt building within the golden woman. This is a step, the right one. Niall's smiles were coming up and down this time. His expression changing as was their conversation. No longer hiding his feelings, for now.

Why did he get that damn ring so early? A quandary? A muse to truly think about! Now the game was afoot! That was how he saw it. Time to tackle the problem and find an answer. His hand raised up to look at the ring. The sunlight for the moment seemed to be dying or was just getting darker it the room at that moment. The silver glinted in the light as he looked at the symbol. A sun, a mark of the ancient line of Lugh, the God of the Sun. It was a strange mark as on the opposite hand was the emblematic sigil of the Raven, the mark of his bloodline and Clann. How did the Phantom Queen's scion come to love that of the sun.

"I am odd?" he queried aloud. Odd is putting if feckin' lightly love. I am a devious son of a Dragan, who has done terrible things., Oh how coated you put your words. There was truth in it. Perhaps one reason behind the bleeding symbols of both rings was some silly duology. Yes, it was because of the opposites of light and dark, that was it. I would stab myself before using that feckin' idiotic metaphor. No, that was not it at all.

"You had what I guess could be called desire, want, and a true sense about you," he began. Always beginning, in some manner to describe such matters. Not that it was easy to begin such matters in the first place.

"I did it because you caught my attention, you seemed worth it, and I wanted to prove something. In the end it turned into love..." he state.

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05-23-2013 06:40 PM
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