Cian felt like his insides were trying very hard to become his outsides. Whatever had just happened that had somehow transported them clear across the Atlantic left him nauseous to the point that he was very nervous that he was about to vomit. Usually, he wouldn't care too much about it, knowing that he would feel a lot better afterward. But Cian would be lying if he said that he wouldn't be mortified if he lost his stomach while standing next to the distractingly attractive Eamon. If that happened, he would then have to jump off the cliff that he had been able to shakenly make out a little way in front of him when they landed to escape the embarrassment.
Was it landing? Had they flown? It sort of felt like it with the surging of air during the spell, but honestly, he had no idea. His brain felt like mush. He had let go of Seamus in the aftermath of whatever had happened when Seamus had doubled over, looking too like he would be sick. Not liking the feeling of being untethered to the ground on that side, his hand had moved unconsciously to join its twin on Eamon, clutching to his forearm. He seemed like the most solid thing around him at the moment.
"You alright?" How was he so unfazed by what happened? It is so unfair! Twice now, Eamon got to witness Cian in not-so-impressive moments. First, he healed him after being turned into that shadow monster's (scáthanna, as he was told they were called) personal scratching post. And now here, when he felt that the world's gravity had been switched to go in the opposite direction. Not the two most flattering positions when all he wanted was to make a good impression on the man.
"Yeah, I think so anyway," was his answer. He didn't have the strength or willpower to remove either of his hands. Mostly because Cian thought he might fall over, but also because he liked the tingling feeling he got when they touched.
Slowly, the world was starting to feel the right way up again as time passed, and he felt like he could finally move without falling. Reluctantly, he pried his fingers off of Eamons forearm and pulled his hand out of the other man's grasp. He was surprised when Eamon moved to place a hand on his shoulder, close to the junction of his neck, pressing his fingers gently into the skin there.
"The sick feeling will pass slowly. It happens to everyone."
"Really?" Cian asked, raising his head to meet the eyes of his taller companion. "You look fine to me."
Eamon chuckled lowly, still keeping his hand in place. "I'm used to it. We jumped from place to place quite often while looking for your sister." Cian made a humming noise in response, tucking that piece of information away to ask about later before his attention was caught by something Eoin was saying.
"That is one of the doorways that protect our people." He was pointing to something behind Eamon and Cian, though slightly to the side. Ashling turned to also look in that direction.
Cian didn't fail to notice that the dark-haired Irishman's hand was still wrapped around his little sister's. He had noticed that the two seemed to constantly be touching in some way or standing far closer than was typical. It was odd to him. Ashling was not someone to be openly and physically affectionate. Especially not with men that she had just met. Her last serious relationship (if you could call it that) was a few years ago. It had only lasted about six months before she had ended things. She claimed that she was far too busy with work to be bothered by a boyfriend. Cian worried that her closed-off attitude to relationships and love was because she was scared of losing another important person in her life after their parents.
So, this behaviour change, while not upsetting, was out of the ordinary. Cian always hoped that she might find someone special that would open her up a bit, of course. All brothers want happiness and love for their sisters. Well, maybe not Declan. He would be happy if Ashling lived her life like a nun. But, could it be possible that the mysterious druid that turned their worlds upside down might be a good match for her? That he could be the one to allow her to open up?
"Really? Through there?" he heard her ask. She started quickly forward, towards the stone building that he could see off to his side, Eoin following close behind.
"Your friend seems very attached to my sister," Cian stated, not entirely sure why he was even bringing it up with Eamon. He had no reason to tell Cian anything about what was going on, especially since it seemed that he and Eoin were very close. Turning away from his sister and again looking at Eamon, he noticed that the latter's deep blue eyes were trained solely on his face. He seemed almost apprehensive, an emotion he had yet to see from the sensible yet high-spirited man.
"He is a Laochra and Ashling's anamchara," Eamon said it like that should explain everything.
Cian's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean? What is a laochra? And an a-anamchara?" His tongue seemed to stumble over the foreign words.
"Laochra means warrior. We are druids that possess a natural favouring of offensive and defensive magic over others. We protect the garrán from any who wish us harm."
"We? So you are one as well?" Eamon nodded. "Ok, so laochra are soldiers. But what do you mean by Eoin is Ashling's anamchara." Cian looked back towards his sister, who was now darting in and out of the old stone structure, her history-obsessed self clearly in heaven. He heard Eamon sigh, pulling his attention back to the blonde, who was staring towards the cliff with a guarded expression on his face.
"I shouldn't tell you. Eoin will kill me if you tell Ashling before he does." It surprised Cian that Eoin would be so upset by Eamon explaining something so seemingly innocuous.
"If it isn't a bad thing, or something that could harm her, then I have no reason to say anything," Cian offered. Eamon looked back to Cian's face, searching for something for a brief moment, his two eyes flitting back and forth between Cian's before he sighed again in resignation.
"It is a phenomenon that is rare now. It is almost unheard of now due to how scattered druidic society is. It was quite common to hear about it when our ancestors didn't have to hide," Eamon began. Using the hand still settled on Cian's shoulder, he moved the shorter man slightly farther away from the rest of the group before dropping his hand and taking a step back. "But, essentially, every druid that is born has a person who is also a magic user out in the world somewhere that the gods created just for them. They are a perfect match, from their personalities, their temperament, even their magic melds together perfectly."
Cian stood stock still for a heartbeat, processing what was just said. "So you're telling me that Eoin and Ashling are like soulmates or something?" Eamon retook a step towards Cian, eyes a burning blue that he felt deep down in his very core. When he spoke, his voice sounded deeper, huskier.
"Not like soulmates, Cian. They are soulmates. That is why they are drawn toward each other. Why physical touch is so easy and natural. They want to be close to one another; they seek each other out, even in just small ways: a glance, a brush of the hands, simply standing close." Cian was having difficulty telling if Eamon was still talking about Eoin and Ashling or someone else now. The burning he had felt at Eamon's intense gaze grew, an all-encompassing inferno engulfing his body, startling in its intensity. Cian felt like he was starting to put some pieces of the puzzle together. However, the finished picture scared and excited him all simultaneously. He wasn't yet ready to face that.
Cian took a shaky step back, hoping the distance would help extinguish the fire in his blood. He cleared his throat and looked once more back toward where his sister stood. "Oh," he said, "I was not expecting that. Though, with everything that I have learned in the last few days, I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
Eamon, for his part, didn't move. He stood statue-like, still gazing at Cian with that fiery look, though there was an edge of sadness to it now. "There will be a lot of things you will learn in the next few days that will shock you. But, for now, we should work on getting everyone settled in. C'mon, we should go." He turned and began walking away from Cian towards Eoin and the other McCoubrie siblings without a backward glance. Cian trailed after him, ignoring the irrational shard of hurt going through his chest at being left behind.
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Ashling was over the moon excited. They were standing before a wedge altar tomb used in ancient Celtic burials. She was unendingly curious as to the practices that were used back then for funeral services. As the histories from that time were oral ones, much of the few surviving sources' accuracies were questionable at best. When Eoin had explained to her that this was the door to the Refuge, she had run to stand inside, only slightly disappointed when nothing happened. She heard Eoin's hearty laughter from outside of the structure as she moved in and out of the ruins, examining everything about the small building like a small child filled with wonder.
Slowly, her siblings, now seemingly all recovered from their travels, gathered around the structure as well. Ashling moved back outside when she saw Eoin waving a beckoning motion to her and went to stand by his side in front of the mouth of the stone building.
"Are you ready?" he whispered to her, reaching to gather her hand in his once more. She nodded, suddenly a bit anxious, but allowed him to pull her so that she faced the building, his front pressed into her back with his tall frame towering over her. He brought their joined hands to the top of the opening where the roof stone sat across the gap made by the two walls. He placed her palm on the surprisingly warm stone, his hand settling on top of hers, and began whispering words in that language unknown to her. Goosebumps exploded across her skin as she listened with rapt attention to the quiet words being breathed into her ear in his deep voice. A sudden warmth rose from his skin and sank into hers. Slowly, glowing marks appeared on the structure to each side where she touched, burning bright gold against gray rock and spreading until the whole of the building was covered in strange symbols. Runes, Eoin had called the similar character he had drawn in the dirt of her backyard. A bright light exploded from within the building, the intensity of the heat of it shocking her.
"Go ahead, love." She heard Eoin say from behind her. "The door is open for you. You're home now." She took one step forward, away from the press of Eoin's body, before pausing.
"I'm scared." She wasn't sure if she had meant to say that out loud, but the words were the truth. Everything had seemed like a dream until now, and the sudden reality of her life came crashing upon her. She was about to see where her parents were from, and meet the family that she never knew existed. Not to mention the whole magic thing that she was still struggling to come to terms with.
She felt his presence once again, this time slightly behind her but more to her side. A gentle hand appeared on the small of her back and applied just enough pressure to cause her to begin walking again, though this time, he followed.
"I'm right beside you, Ash. I won't leave you to face this alone."
And then, the light swallowed them both.