as good a place to fall as any

[Astrid O'Malley]

Astrid circled through the camp at sunset, humming softly to herself as she lit lamps and candles for each group that waved her over. All it took was a touch of the tip of her finger to the wick for each flame to flare to life, throwing dancing light around the tents and stone ruins. Some people appeared with their lights in hand for her to spark for them, not wanting her to enter their homes. Even among the mystics, some found her unsettling.

Her actions might not be helping matters, though. She didn't take a candle or lamp with her as she went on her rounds--she knew the layout of the camp just as well without her eyes. She trailed her fingers along the cold stone as she walked, and felt its ridges beneath her feet. She knew every path, had explored each one in the night and in the day. She liked to keep moving, when she was feeling agitated. It reminded her that she could go where she wanted, that she wasn't trapped, anymore. 

Her humming grew louder as she reached the deepest parts of the camp. There, in the middle, surrounded by the others, was the home of Ruairc Cathain . Last she knew, Ruiarc had been called off to a meeting with some of the others--apparently something had happened at a nobles' party recently with the other mystic group, the Unseelie. Thinking him busy, she didn't hesitate to enter his dim rooms and begin lighting the candles scattered around it. This way, it would be ready for his return. 

Once she'd lit the first two, however, and turned around, she noticed a figure sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. She jumped, then pressed her hand to her heart as it remembered to beat. It took only a moment to recognize who it was, and once she did, she was moving to kneel in front of him, sliding partway across the stone on her knees in her hurry to make sure he was alright. 

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice quiet but with obvious urgency as she reached out to put a hand on his arm. 

[Ruairc Cathain]

That bastard. That conniving son-of-bitch. That brother of his, did he know? Did he suspect?

Fingers rubbed his shaved scalp, over and over again as though he were seeking the dark hair that had once been there, seeking to rip it from its roots. Brown eyes, so black in the darkness, focused on the now dead fire in the small hearth that was nothing but softly burning embers, barely enough heat to warm up the small, cold room he took up residence in. Not many decided to live in the ruins, but Ruairc found it quiet and devoid of life compared to the rest of the camp. It was...solitary, for the most part. It helped him remain alone when he desperately needed it.

Even when he wasn't alone, he was slow to realize it when he had fallen over that edge.

Although there were sudden flickers of candles, he didn't move. But Astrid might come to find that he was murmuring almost inaudibly to himself. "Unseelie…Unseelie, Unseelie...what have you done, hmm? What have you done, brother?" Fingertips tapped along to an unheard beat atop his head and he was grinding his teeth. A flicker of amusement washed over his face before there came a low, guttural laughter deep within his chest. The whispered words that came next were filled with annoyance and sarcasm. "Does this make us the Seelie Court? No, no, no, no... pompous fool, you're reaching too high, too fast…"

Ruairc had tried again. He tried to force a vision to come to him and it would not. He threw himself deep into that never-ending abyss, only to claw his way back to the surface with nothing to show for it. Nothing but this brokenness he couldn't seem to heal. This was why he preferred to be alone most of the time, especially when the Sight took hold. It usually left him vulnerable, lost, dangerously not himself. And Astrid was about to see why.

He still didn't know she was there until she dared to reach out for him. The moment her touch was on his arm, it was as if he was a striking snake, instantly lashing out with lightning speed to swat her arm away. His other hand came around, gripping her tightly right beneath her jaws and drew the both of them up straighter onto their knees. Those black eyes, inches away, stared down at her with rage and confusion, looking as though he might squeeze the very air from her lungs. But it wasn't his brother he saw in front of him now. No, Ruairc was slowly beginning to wonder just who she was and why she was here. For a moment, he couldn't even recall where he was. The Mystic leader knew all the faces within the camp, even if he didn't appear to. He knew her face and that was all. However, right now, he was trying to blink away the veil the vision madness had clouded him with.

[Astrid O'Malley]

The unnatural laughter had gone unnoticed by Astrid in her dreamy state of routine; probably a good thing, as she might have been even more concerned than she already was. As it stood, Ruairc's viper-strike rejection of her hand was hardly a problem to her (although it was a touch disappointing) and didn't cause her to pull back. She was used to that kind of treatment.

The way he grabbed her jaw did at least cause her to inhale a sharp gasp through her nose in surprise. She pressed her hands firmly against her thighs to keep them away from him, since he apparently didn't want to be touched, and held her spine straight to alleviate some of the pressure on her throat. His grip was tight, however, making it difficult to breathe. She forced herself to keep her breathing slow and as calm as possible.

Perhaps she should have been frightened, but all she felt was concern. She'd known that Ruairc was struggling, but for him to be sitting alone in the dark, on the cold stone floor, lashing out at strangers...that was worse than she expected. Her face fell, looking more like sorrow than terror.

"Sir...? It's just me, Astrid. I don't mean you any harm."

She looked at him with wide, sad eyes, watching the candlelight flicker over his contorted features. What had happened to him?

[Ruairc Cathain]

Those eyes, that seemed somehow so black, slowly began to lighten to their soft brown, like a storm had suddenly dissipated within them. They were now almost gold within the flickering light of the candles, and he was blinking away the hardened edges of his expression, coming to the realization that he had found himself in that darkness again. If she hadn't been there, he wouldn't have remembered. Yet, there he was, nearly sneering in her face, his fingers wrapped tightly around her slender throat.

And somehow, there was sorrow on her face. A face he was trying to put a name to.

"Astrid..." he repeated her name, his low voice cracking the silence that had lingered for moments after. Yes, he remembered now. Ruairc couldn't even recall if they had uttered a single word to each other before, and if they had, it was entirely his own fault for forgetting. That was his very problem right now- along with the subtle, growing madness, he was forgetting things. Simple things, mostly, but how long would that last? When would it become worse?

His hold finally began to loosen, hand shaking slightly as his thumb ran along her chin as if he was trying to remember something. Her, maybe. But right now, she was simply a human being there with him, grounding him to this plane of existence. Did he exist? His head was still swimming and he finally let her go, stumbling backwards until he was seated; his back once more against the side of the bed. His hand was still held up in the space between them, a warning for her to stay away before he could speak again. "I didn't...I wasn't...here...for a moment. I don't think..." His attention finally flickered back up to her face, his brow furrowing. "I didn't mean to-" Ruairc was trying to apologize but was struggling to form full sentences.

[Astrid O'Malley]

Green eyes searched his brown ones, vividly aware of the change in color as he returned to himself. He still seemed dazed, confused, as if he had been in the midst of a nightmare when she'd reached out to him. But somehow, she doubted all this was as simple as a bad dream. There were whispers among the others that Ruairc's magic was the Sight, that he knew the future before it happened. People joked that he could read minds, too, which was why he didn't want to talk to any of them, but she thought that was more a way of licking their wounds than truth.

When he spoke her name--for what she knew was the first time, he hadn't forgotten--it didn't even sound like a real word. Just a string of sounds that were as foreign to her as they were to him. Where was he surfacing from? What horrors had he seen?

She relaxed slightly as his grip loosened, although the surprisingly gentle movement of his thumb across her chin sent a chill rippling down her spine. That was different. She wasn't used to that. Her brows flickered farther down, but he let her go, and his distress was more important to her than her own. She was already moving to try and catch him by the elbows as he faltered backward, trying to ease his fall, but his warning hand was enough to stop her.

This time her melancholy expression devolved into obvious distress as she sat down on her heels and watched him. She had to clasp her hands in her lap to keep herself from reaching out to him. She chewed the inside of her cheek instead, to vent her nervous energy as she tried to decide if she should go for more help or get him some water--something, anything, to make this less painful for him.

"I didn't...I wasn't...here...for a moment. I don't think..." His attention finally flickered back up to her face, his brow furrowing. "I didn't mean to-"

Her brows flew upward, and emerald eyes went wide when she realized he was apologizing to her. What in the world? Why should he apologize for something he obviously couldn't control? If anything, she ought to be apologizing for coming into his room without asking. But perhaps it was better that he wasn't alone in this. He needn't warn her away; she was just fine as she was. She'd thought that he didn't want to be touched because he didn't like the feeling, or like her, but with his apology, it seemed more and more like Ruairc was worried for her, that he'd hurt her. It took a bit of bravery, but she was able to reach up and gently, ever so slowly, press his warning hand back down. She almost held it in hers, when their two hands rested briefly on his leg, but she took her hand back instead.

"Nothing to apologize for, I swear, sir. I knew right away you weren't yourself," she assured him quietly. "But you're here now, and so am I. Do you need anything? I can get you some water, or help you up onto the bed properly..." She smiled reassuringly. Or, what she hoped would be reassuring. "You've been through a lot, just now, and I'd like to help."

[Ruairc Cathain]

He saw nothing. It had been utter blackness, an endless void, and a dark tunnel that he kept walking down. It never seemed to end, no matter how fast he ran. And the longer he tried to remain, the more it hurt, the more he lost himself because he couldn't find that light at the end. He couldn't find what he was searching for.

A daughter. Deep down, he knew her to be his. He could feel it in his bones, so why could he not see her and verify the truth? Why was he blocked from it? The more he tried, the harder it became, and the logic was lost to him. Ruairc knew he had to stop, but he didn't have the strength to.

His other hand was aggressively rubbing at his scalp again, as if he could claw his way into his own mind and fix whatever was going wrong. Meanwhile, his dark gaze had drifted towards the stone beneath them for a brief moment, but her touch against his hand brought his attention back to her in a sideways glance. All other movements ceased immediately. He even stopped breathing. Ruairc sat there, watching her as he hunched over, cradling half his face in the crook of his arm. He watched her as if he was waiting for something in his head to snap and he lashed out again, but nothing happened. Perhaps he was past the bad part of it.

"No, no, no-" he began to murmur, wincing slightly as he shook his head. His gaze broke from her again as he shut his eyes. "No 'sir'. I lead only because I have to, not because I'm a leader." Did that even make sense? Ruairc was trying to tell her not to use titles, that he didn't choose it, that he didn't choose to lead these people. He was only doing it because no one else would. "My name...I have a name. Use it." His tone was a bit brash even though he hadn't meant it to be. "I have a name..."

[Astrid O'Malley]

Astrid’s brow creased again as he protested. No? No to which? She sighed slightly as he looked away, oddly disappointed. But she shouldn’t ask that of him, not now. What he said next, though, had her brows flying upward. No “sir?” He wanted her to call him by name? She swallowed hard. She couldn’t have put into words precisely why that seemed difficult to her. It was an overstep, a bigger boundary than simply offering him help when he needed it. Names were intimate.

She took a slow breath and set her shoulders. She was going to help him, and if that meant she had to push outside her own comfort zone to do that, so be it. She wouldn’t give up. She could call the man she'd put on a pedestal by his name. It wouldn't kill her. Probably.

“Yes, s–” she winced as she caught herself. “Ah, Ruairc… I’ll do my best. But then you’ve got to let me take care of you. A trade, sort of.” The deal she was offering didn’t make any sense if you looked at it from outside, but she knew that accepting help wasn’t always easy. Not just for pride, but because she was beginning to wonder if Ruairc himself knew what he needed. She'd known full well that Ruairc wasn't taking good care of himself, but only now did she have an inkling why. She’d just have to follow her instincts and learn as she went.

Watching the way he scratched and dug ag his scalp, she decided right away that was no good. She reached up, gently sliding her fingertips across the back of his hand and slipping her thumb into his palm. She moved slowly, not wanting to startle him. Once she had his hand, though, she’d guide it away from his head. Her touch was still gentle, but firm. She’d let him yank away if he needed to, but she was quite deliberate in her actions, making it clear that she simply wanted him to stop harming his skin. She'd also keep her hand in his, this time. His hands were cold...

“Would you prefer to sit on the bed, or in your chair over there?” she asked, purposefully not leaving him the choice to stay seated on the stone floor. She was going to move him somewhere more comfortable whether he thought that was a good idea or not.

[Ruairc Cathain]

What would have happened if he didn't step up? Would anyone else have? Would these people- people like him- have just run with no direction? Blindly running until Allarick tracked each and every one of them down like dogs. It was frustrating, and he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be doing this. Inwardly, he was throwing a tantrum about it but he could never seem to vocalize it.

He was no leader, but he had no choice except to lead right now until someone better came along. And he was certainly no "sir". No titles, no authority, he didn't want them.

Dark eyes were blinking when she spoke his name, his head tilting in slight surprise as though he had forgotten it. It was strange to hear, almost, like she was reminding him of it. His name. He had a name. The woman's following words were what became confusing, though, and he regarded her with a furrowed brow. A trade?

Then, ever so slowly, she was trying to get him to stop viciously rubbing at his scalp. Ruairc paused like a frightened animal, but he didn't move, didn't try to flee or shove her away. If anything, he was watching her carefully in half trust, unsure of why she was trying so hard to get him to stop, to get off of the floor. He didn't understand any of it, but the gentleness in which she urged was beginning to lure out the curiosity and push away the distrust. Perhaps, he was just frightened of how long that would last. Her hand was warm...

Although he hadn't answered her question, he was slowly beginning to rise up from the cold, stone floor to simply sit at the edge of that bed. But he was watching her carefully still, eyes narrowing slightly in question before his voice once again broke the quiet, "Why...are you here, Astrid?" He said her name again to remind himself, to ground himself. How long had she been here for? Had she been there the entire time and he just hadn't realized it until he could snap out of that darkness? No one ever came into his room unless it was urgent...and normally the others avoided him, too afraid to disturb him.

[Astrid O'Malley]

Astrid smiled again when he followed her lead and began to get up and sit on the bed. She may be trying to make him more comfortable, but it helped her relax a little to see him calmer. She'd been worried, for a moment, that she might make things worse instead of better. She stood as he moved up to the bed, not letting go of his hand. In fact, she even squeezed it gently, encouraging him.

His amber eyes watched her with caution that reminded her of a frightened cat--wary, wanting to trust, but afraid of being hurt. She wasn't sure how else to show she meant him no harm except to keep doing none. Best guess? She'd just have to prove herself a little at a time. Patience might not be her strongest suit, but she'd do her best.

She'd been so focused on his eyes that his question startled her, and she blushed, turning her cheeks a color that clashed rather jarringly with her copper locks. She had come into his rooms without permission, hadn't she? But she did it all the time; she hadn't even thought twice about it. Although, it wasn't as if he'd ever been here when she did it before. Most people with servants didn't stop to question how the fires got lit or the beds got made--and that's the way they liked it. She'd been invisible on purpose. He'd probably been too busy before to ask who was doing that for him. Or too far gone, a rather concerning thought suggested. The idea made her feel a little ill. Had he needed help before, and no one ever knew?

But she mustn't forget he'd asked her a question.

"I was just here to light the candles and the fire, like always," she answered. "That's my gift, you see. I can show you if you like." She gestured to the fireplace, still unlit and full of yesterday's ashes. She could do what she'd meant to and demonstrate all at once. She still felt like she ought to confess, though… "I hope you don't mind, I come in here when you're busy, and I light everything. I don't mean any harm by it, just to be helpful."

[Ruairc Cathain]

Ever so slowly, that feeling of emptiness was beginning to subside. Normally it took far longer to dissipate, but perhaps he'd been on that floor far longer than he originally thought. He truly didn't know. Loss of time was not uncommon for him these days, especially when he tried to hide himself away and avoid everyone. The only one he saw semi frequently was Adam, and yet he found he still had to avoid his son for the very same reason he wished this woman wouldn't get too close. He already attacked her once.

Astrid. There was a strange calm about her, but Ruairc couldn't quite understand why she felt the need to ensure that he was alright. At least he didn't have much of a mind to argue too much right now.

His eyes remained steadily upon her, vaguely noticing the blush to her cheeks, the brief moment of surprise. She looked so animated to him right now, it was interesting, and perhaps it was only because he felt sluggish. Every movement felt like he was trying to move underwater. As if, were he to try and reach out to her, she would just swiftly jump away from him.

At her gesture of the fireplace, he barely realized he nodded slightly. Whether it was in response to wanting to see her gift or for her to simply light the hearth was left uncertain. "Thank you..." he told her after a long moment. Ruairc somehow managed to look exhausted yet alert at the same time. "And...I'm sorry for never noticing." He simply hadn't known, didn't even realize it, as weird as that was. "But I know now. I see you now."

[Astrid O'Malley]

Astrid smiled at his nod; her ability was perhaps the one thing she was fully confident in. She'd hidden it for ages before she found Ruairc and the others, but being able to use it freely was like suddenly being allowed to breathe freely after being suffocated her entire life.

"Thank you…"

"No thanks needed. My pleasure, really," she answered, her cheeks keeping that pink. It might have been a routine phrase, but she was completely sincere. She liked being useful.

She was already turning to fix the fire when he spoke again. She stopped and gave him her full attention.

"And...I'm sorry for never noticing. But I know now. I see you now."

Astrid was stunned. People didn't usually seem to think what she did mattered all that much. It was useful, sure, and practical, but not something worth taking so seriously. And on top of all that, it was coming from someone she really admired. Ruairc might say he wasn't a leader, not someone who needed to be called sir...but not just anyone could step into the place he had. Not just anyone could do this work.

She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and managed a muted, "Thank you!" before hurriedly turning to the fire and scraping out the ash that was filling the hearth. She was holding every muscle in her body tense, at first, but then as she went about the familiar work, she began to relax. By the time she had new wood from the box in the hearth, she was able to breathe normally.

"Um, it's not anything really showy, but here...I'll show you." She moved her body out of the way so that he could see what she did with her hand, trailing her middle finger gently along the surface of the largest log. Flames leapt up along that line, then spread, and soon the fire was crackling happily. Its warmth and light seemed to break some of the dark mystery of the room, turning it into a bedroom once more.

With that done, she rose and gently tapped the wick of each of the remaining candles, lighting each of them as well. Afterward, she returned to stand awkwardly near the foot of the bed. She still wanted to help, after how disoriented he had been, but she wasn't entirely sure how to act if she wasn't supposed to act like a servant.
"Um...Are you feeling any better? Did you want a cup of water or something?"

[Ruairc Cathain]

He was drawing in deep and slow breaths, attempting to fully come back to this plane, to arrive and remain within the present. It's why he watched her, why he openly stared because she was the only other living thing in that room. Ruairc could stare at the wall, but it wouldn't help him decipher where he was, at which time he was seeing.

So, when she looked stunned, he began to wonder what he had done or said. Sometimes he couldn't remember the words he uttered a minute prior, depending upon how deep in the fog he was. Fingers rubbed at his eyes before his hand brushed over his head, not clawing this time but simply trying to wake him up.

When fire danced upon the wood, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly as a small grin curled his mouth. "It's still something," he said as the fire came alive, consuming the logs inside the hearth. He sighed lightly at feeling its warmth. Until that moment, Ruairc hadn't realized how cold he had been. "Your gift works...it helps..." Unlike his own. His has proven to be nothing but a burden, only working when he didn't desperately need it to.

Attention drifted from the fire, watching as each candle flickered to life before she was standing there in question. "I don't know." Ruairc didn't think before he spoke, and he wasn't sure which question he was even answering. "But you should not concern yourself with it." His tone had meant to bite a little bit, but it seemed to lack nearly all emotion, as though he were falling into that trance again. In reality, he was simply trying to fully wake up.

After a moment, his low voice broke the quiet. "Tell me...Astrid-" Pausing, black eyes rose to find her face. "How did you come to find yourself here...at the camp?" He could recall all the familiar faces, but that didn't mean he knew how each person came to find solace here.

[Astrid O'Malley]

"Maybe I want to concern myself with it," Astrid muttered petulantly, although she wasn't quite brave enough to say it full volume. When he stayed quiet, she was worried she'd offended him. When she leaned a little closer, though, to see his eyes, she noticed he seemed to be lost in thought again.

When he spoke up again, she jumped slightly and straightened back up. How had she wound up at the camp? Well… That depended on where you wanted to begin the story.

"Well, I never knew my parents. That sounds like it's starting too far back but really, it's not. I mean, if I had them, I might not have needed the camp, I suppose."

She drifted over to the rug in front of him and pulled a pillow that had fallen off the bed into her lap. She hugged it to her chest and hunched forward so her chin rested on it as she spoke. She was too shy to look at him, so she turned her gaze to the fire instead, watching it flicker and crackle.

"I never really had a place, and I didn't know I was a mystic until I set my bed on fire in the night. I got in trouble, but I said I'd knocked over a candle. No one knew any better."

"So I just kept on doing what I knew how to do, being a good servant girl and trying not to get noticed. But Mr. Sanders caught me setting the fires with my hand and not matches. He beat me for it, nearly killed me then, but he decided to let me loose instead. For a while...then he thought better of it and set the dogs on me." She shuddered at the memory of their baying, the crunch of their paws in the underbrush. She'd started a forest fire, that night.

"After that, I never really had a home. I moved every so often, whenever I started to worry. But then I heard about you. About the people you were gathering." She finally lifted her face to smile at him. "I've been here with you all for about five years now. It's the only place I've ever really felt safe. I might not have a whole lot of friends, but I'm happier here. It's good to feel free."

[Ruairc Cathain]

He paused, thinking he had heard those murmured words but he couldn't be very sure. Even if he had, what would he say to them? Perhaps it was a nice feeling to think someone had his back, but at the same time, he couldn't even trust himself to return the favor. Despite the good he was trying to do here, he worried about this power of his somehow backfiring, causing something to happen that he would not bounce back from. He feared hurting someone when he wasn't himself, like he nearly had done to Astrid.

Barely noticing that little jump, he was blinking again to clear his mind. Every little bit helped, and Ruairc began to drift back to himself with each passing second. Although he wasn't much of a conversationalist, talking right now seemed to help.

While her gaze drifted to the fire, he watched the light dance across her face in mild curiosity. He didn't mean to stare, and he meant nothing by it except that it was helping to root him in this reality. It reminded him of where he was. The Mystic leader also didn't seem to mind that she was talking so much. Normally, he couldn't be bothered, but this was simple. This wasn't about the war (although it was a part of it), this wasn't about what he and the others of this camp should be doing. It was just about her, someone he barely noticed before...and she'd supposedly been here for five years.

What else had he not noticed?

That thought actually brought a bit of shame to his face when he realized this, especially hearing about the trouble she had gone through. "It's not entirely freedom," he finally spoke, his voice quiet. What he should have said was that he was glad she felt safe. He should have said that it was freedom, and perhaps the best place for their kind to be...but he didn't. "Not while the mad king still sits on that throne and hunts us. Not while he wages war on things he does not understand!" Ruairc's voice had risen considerably, but it clearly wasn't directed at her.

Climbing to his feet, he paced across the stone as a hand ran over his head again. He could feel his blood beginning to boil. No, he had to calm down. "He fights against what he fears, because he cannot see...he cannot see who she is..." He was beginning to drift back into that darkness inside his head, even though he tried to stop it.

[Astrid O'Malley]

"It's not entirely freedom," he finally spoke, his voice quiet.

Astrid shrugged. It was more freedom than she'd had before. She could come and go as she pleased, wander wherever she liked, sleep when she wanted, rise when she wanted, talk to whomever she liked, wear whatever she liked...For her, that was a major improvement.

Still, she understood why he wasn't satisfied with such things. He had bigger goals, and the world was still a dangerous place for people like them. She was going to say something to that effect when his voice began to rise.

Uh oh. She'd set him off again.

"Ruairc--"

Astrid scrambled to her feet, instinctively setting herself in his path with her hands up in front of her as if she were trying to approach a skittish horse.

"Ruairc, take a breath. It's alright," she soothed, both voice and eyes soft as she inched closer. "You're not alone in this. We're here to face this together."

She eased her hands closer to him, and if he didn't stop her or shake her off, she'd put her hands lightly on his shoulders, just enough for him to feel her presence, a steady tie to this plane. She didn't know where he'd gone, before, what he'd seen...but she was intuitive enough to figure out that it wasn't a safe place for him. He needed to come back here.

"Right now, it's late," she told him, keeping her voice as gentle as her touch. "We can't stop that man right this minute. But we can do the next right thing. And right now, that's taking care of you. Alright? It won't do anyone any good for you to go off wandering in the dark again tonight."

If she hadn't been so focused on calming him down, she'd have been far too skittish to try something this bold: standing right in his space like this, touching him without asking. Was she really telling the man in charge of this whole camp what to do? It was downright crazy, but she couldn't stop, now. He needed someone...needed her? It was a nice thought, but she shut it down just as fast. He didn't need her. He just needed someone to watch out for him. She just happened to be the one who was here.

Emerald eyes searched his golden ones, looking for the keener awareness that had flickered there before. "You need to take care of yourself, or at least let someone else do it. If you keep going like this, there won't be anything left." She wasn't sure how she knew that, it was just a gut feeling. She hoped she wasn't trespassing too far.