Ashling had slept surprisingly well, considering the events of the day before. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep. She had thought she would have dreamt of magical villages and shadows with claws. However, if she had, she couldn't remember.
After she had woken up and washed up in the bathroom, she returned to the main chamber to find that her bag had somehow made it into her room and was unpacked. For a brief moment, she worried about someone having entered the room as she slept before the cavalcade of memories about magic came back. She realized that the bag had, more than likely, made its way there on its own. This whole magic thing is going to take some getting adjusted to.
Once Ashling had dressed, she was unsure what to do with herself. Was someone going to come and get her? Eoin had mentioned coming for her, but she didn't know when. She didn't feel like she could leave and wander the immense fortress alone. She was certain that with her lousy sense of direction and how little of the fort she had seen, she would get herself impossibly lost.
As she weighed her options as to what to do, a knock sounded on her bedroom door followed by a loud call.
"Are you awake yet, love?" Eoin.
She took a brief moment to compose herself. She was determined to stand strong. She was not some silly romantic who swooned at any kind or flirtatious word. She was practical and smart. She could resist Eoin's charms…she hoped.
Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the large wooden door and hauled back on the metal handle, pulling the ancient door open. It moved surprisingly quietly for its age and appearance, and Eoin's grinning face was soon revealed to her. She could feel her cheeks warm under his gaze and she cursed her weak will.
"Good morning, Eoin," Ash said, stepping back to allow him space to enter the room. He stepped in quickly, but not too far, staying by the still-opened door.
"Mornin'. Are you ready to do some exploring?" Eoin's face showed nothing but excitement. He was practically vibrating out of his skin in anticipation. Ashling couldn't help but laugh a little at his expression, picturing a wagging puppy tail swishing behind him.
"Absolutely! I want to learn as much about your people and home as I possibly can!" It was true. Ashling was, at her very core, a history addict. She loved places with stories, culture, and character. Tearmann an Deiscirt had all of that in spades.
"Don't forget, Ash: this is your home and your people as well now," Eoin said, his grin shrinking into a small smile that was less ecstatic and eager and more sincere and solemn. He reached out and laid his hand once more on the juncture of her shoulder and neck, thumb pressing gently into the hollow of her collarbone. There was something oddly settling in that pressure as if that touch was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
His words sank into her mind and the truth in them crashed around her. These people, druids with ancient and powerful magic, were her people. She was one of them. She had always felt a little out of place in her small hometown of Erin. Her brothers and she always struggled to make friends at school and were always on the periphery of their peers. Eventually, they all just accepted that they were just a bit different. They had each other and that was more than enough for them.
But now, she had a place where she belonged. The moment she had stepped foot in Tearmann an Deiscirt, she had felt something in her settle for the first time. It felt warm and solid in her chest. She belonged here.
"Yes, they are," she answered quietly, the weight of her words settling around them. Eoin's smile widened again before his hand moved from her shoulder. It ran down her arm to grip her small hand in his much larger one, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
"Come on! There is a place that I want to show you before the sun gets too high." He then turned to leave the room, pulling her along behind him. They walked at a steady, but unhurried pace through the winding halls of Dun Croí, Eoin still solidly gripping her hand. In no time at all, they exited into the same large garden they had entered the day before.
Eoin turned sharply to the right and led Ashling along the outer stone wall of the keep a short while before staying away from the building to follow a tall row of shrubbery that led away from the fortress, but in the opposite direction of the village.
As they walked, Ashling was able to take in the gardens that surrounded them. The shrubbery was tall, almost maze-like, but interspersed in the tall green walls were flower bushes and raised gardens filled with every type of flower and herb she could think of. Just off the top of her head, she could recognize roses, delphiniums, gerberas, and foxglove as well as lavender, thyme, rosemary, and sage and those were just a few that she could name. Every so often, the wind would pick up and the heady fragrance of the mixed plants would circle them. It was a peaceful and quiet place, the hum of the village life just slightly in the background. The atmosphere was almost intoxicating.
After about ten minutes of quiet, companionable walking, Eoin and Ash reached the edge of the forest. The darkness that existed past the first few layers of trees made her pause, and worry about the shadows with claws surfacing in her mind.
"Don't worry, love. Nothing will hurt you here," Eoin reassured quietly, seeing her reluctance and making a reasonable guess as to why. He began moving forward again, pulling Ash with him.
Where the garden has been peaceful and light, the forest was heavy. No sound could be heard apart from their steps and the air was completely still. It wasn't oppressive in its weight, but it instilled a sense of reverence in her that she had never experienced before.
They passed layer after layer of trees, little streams of sunlight breaking up the curtain of dark green above them. Just when she thought that they would never see anything other than the tall trees, a meadow broke out in front of them. Ashling stopped, stunned at the sight of what lay before them.
Sun flowed down and bathed the grass in light. Little patches of small wildflowers cropped up among the green blades. But, it was what stood in the middle of the meadow that caught and held her attention. Boulders formed a perfect circle about halfway into the middle of the clearing. Inside the circle was a tall wooden statue of a woman.
She had a youthful and serene face. Her hair was long and wavy with two braids in the front, one on either side of her face. In one hand, she held a broad sword at her side. The other hand was outstretched with what looked like a raven perched upon it. She was both beautiful and intimidating at the same time and it was clear to Ashling that this deity was powerful.
"That is the Mórrígan," Eoin said in a whisper. He stood behind her and bent down next to her ear so his words would be heard, his hot breath splaying across her skin. "Also called the Triple Goddess."
Ashling let out a shaky breath, whether, from Eoin's proximity or the intense power she could feel coming off the statue, she was unsure. "Why is she called that?"
"The Mórrígan is made up of three separate and distinct goddesses named Badb, Macha, and Nemain. Together, they make up the goddess of war and fate, wife of the Dagda, the father god." Eoin's quiet voice spoke with reverence for the figure before them. "She is who my family is devoted to."
This caught Ashling's attention. She tore her eyes from the goddess' face before turning to face Eoin. "Devoted? Just to her?"
"We can invoke other gods, of course, but she is who we mainly pray to and follow." Eoin, too, lowered his eyes from the other-worldly figure before meeting Ashling's gaze. It was then that he noticed how close he was to her. He was still partially bent from whispering to her and now, with her turned and looking up at him, the distance he would need to close to press his lips to hers was minuscule. And by the gods was he tempted to.
"Is everyone here dedicated to her?" Ashling asked in a voice just as quiet as Eoin's, afraid to break the moment by speaking too loudly.
"No," Eoin answered, eyes flicking between her eyes and her mouth, slowly leaning forward to eliminate the remaining space between them. "Everyone picks the deity they most align with, that their magic is pulled to."
While briefly accepting the thought that the concept made a lot of sense, Ashling was far too focused on the man in front of her to think much else. She didn't understand why her heart wanted him so badly that her mind was beginning to follow it as well. It took every ounce of willpower she had to not lean in and take what she wanted. What it seemed like he might want as well.
But, just when she was going to give in, a screaming splash of logic washed through her brain. They hadn't even known each other for a week. What was she doing?
Quickly taking a step backward to create a barrier of space between them, she looked down at her shoes to try and reign in her emotions. "Why did your family pick her?"
Ashling turned back to face the mother goddess and took a few steps forward, wanting to get a better look while also getting some room to breathe. Eoin, disappointed at her retreat, lingered where he was.
"She is the goddess of war. My family is that of warriors." He said it so matter-of-factly that she almost felt stupid for asking, though she quickly pointed out to herself that she had no idea what this striking woman was the goddess of before today.
Ashling looked up at the statue's face again, determined to memorize her for more research later. When her gaze made contact with the warrior woman's eyes, her limbs went numb, heavy, and useless. A low buzzing started in her ears like she had been listening to music too loudly. She distantly felt like she should be worried about this, but the thought was hazy and she couldn't hang on to it.
The buzzing grew and grew until it was all she could hear. Her breathing turned into panicked puffs, her vision constricting to black tunnels that showed only the goddess' face. Without permission from her mind, she was suddenly lurching forward, walking unsteadily towards the statue until she was standing right in front of it.
Also like it had a mind of its own, her arm quickly pulled forward, placing her palm flat against the leg of the statue. Intense pain burned its way from her hand where it touched the wood up to her shoulder. She felt more than she heard her voice calling out in pain. Her vision constricted even more before all she knew was darkness.
As she was falling away from the world, a layered voice spoke. Multiple voices talking as one rang in her ears as she lost consciousness.
"We've been waiting for you, little Druidess."