#THE GREAT ONE LIKES MO GHILE MEAR | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursebreakerglenetive · 6 years

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Mo Ghile Mear - Part 1

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x reader

Warning/Genre: angst and swearing

Word count: 1.9k words

Summary: Y/N is working a Curse-Breaking job together with her brother after graduation. One day Y/N gets a request for a mission in Romania... and is confronted with a dragon and someone special from their past: Charlie Weasley!

A/N: Might turn this into a series I just needed some actual adventure and angst and lots of Charlie. The title was inspired by an old Irish song which translates to ‘My Gallant Hero’ and I absolutely adore it. Would love some feedback so don’t be shy! xx

Part 2 , Part 3

Your day already started badly when you soaked yourself in hot coffee after your nearly blind owl Teiresias crashed into the window of your home and almost startled you to death. It didn’t get any better after you read the letter that you received.

Someone in Romania needed your help to break a curse on the sealed cave to their family heirloom or something. You were not one for asking further questions, you did your job and received the money and that was that. Yet something about this particular quest sparked your interest.

You had never been to Romania before, avoided it at all costs actually.

If it weren’t for Charlie Weasley you would’ve visited sooner probably. But that boy was a big part of your past, one that still hurt too much to think about.

Despite the clenching feeling in your gut you decided to go on the mission. What were the chances of running into the boy who broke your heart two years ago anyway, right?

Quickly you packed up everything for the voyage and left your brother a message explaining where you were going. He was currently on a solo mission somewhere in France which seemed simple enough so you stayed at home.

In a matter of minutes you were ready to apparate to the sent destination in Romania. The client was all too specific in his letter of where to find the cave so you weren’t worried of finding it.

After that your day only went even more downhill. Conveniently the client had apparently missed to point out that said cursed caved was additionally guarded by a dragon.

As soon as you heard the wildly dangerous beast’s huffs you hid behind the closest tree. What kind of an idiot would not mention a giant dragon? You were more than furious, mostly because you came unprepared for a task like that.

You snuck a glance at the beast curled up in front of the cave. It had deep green scales, long golden horns and was at least 40 ft long. Of course it could only be a Romanian Longhorn.

You silently cursed under your breath as you thought of a way to get the beast out of the way.

Distantly you remembered Professor Kettleburn talking about the Stunning Spell to reign in dragons. It was as good a guess as any so you settled for the only chance to solve this problem.

With a quick movement of your wand you cast Stupefy, the dragon still unknowing, and the Romanian Longhorn was rendered unconscious.

You should really thank your old professor for the years teaching you the stuff that everybody else found unnecessary back at Hogwarts. Well, everybody except one of course. Charlie had always loved dragons, you weren’t too surprised that he wanted to work with them.

Then again you were more than surprised when he told you he would go to Romania immediately after graduation…after you just started dating.

You were quickly growing angry with yourself because you thought of him instead of concentrating on the mission at hand. Carefully you put one food in front of the other and sneaked behind the dragon.

Up close you had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful despite its dangerous allure. Maybe that’s what actually fascinated you about the beast, the danger simmering beneath.

Everybody who knew you also knew you were always up for an adventure, even if death might be involved.

As you inspected the locked cave entrance and thought about possible ways to break in (Alohomora might be a much too easy choice but it could work) you felt a breath of air in your neck.

A reeking and warm breeze despite the rather cold weather in Romania at this time of the year. You didn’t dare move after feeling the breeze again, even closer now.

And that’s when your day went to absolute shit.

As slowly as possible you craned your neck behind you, in fear of what might await you.

And as suspected the dragon’s eyes stared at you unblinking and menacing. You gulped once and tried to reach for your wand at your hip.

It was typically stupid of you to not check if the spell worked long enough. Of course you couldn’t tame a 40 ft dragon by yourself. How did you even survive until now?

If the dragon’s baring teeth were any indication you wouldn’t live much longer to tell the tale. Its eyes travelled to your hand grasping the wand.

Before you even had the chance to cast a spell, the dragon roared loudly and then began to attack you.

Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and since you weren’t quite stupid enough to try to fight a Romanian Longhorn you took off running with fire on your heels, quite literally actually as the dragon spew a trail of sizzling hotness behind you.

You were running faster than ever before in your life but as you looked behind you saw that the dragon was close behind. Of course you just had to trip over an exposed root next and hurt your ankle in the process of falling. You were absolutely screwed.

Crouching on the ground, you fiddled for you wand and cast Depulso which didn’t seem to do the beast any harm and only made him angrier. Great.

Quite ready to die you sent a silent apology to your brother Jacob after leaving him so soon after you just found him again. You were certain this would be the end and you couldn’t possibly be content with the story of your death. It was way too unheroic for your taste.

The dragon screamed once again, now standing right in front of you. You shielded your face, already anticipating the burning of its flame.

“Heya!“ A deep human sounding noise suddenly echoed trough the forest.

You must’ve been dreaming because there was just no way someone would be even more reckless than you and scream at a dragon in attack.

But as you peaked between your fingers you sure as hell saw a young buff man standing a mere feet away from you to your right waving his hands frantically at the dragon to distract him.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest as you noticed his wild red curls, they looked all to familiar.

The man quickly turned around to check on you and your heart stopped in your chest as you met his eyes, eyes that were still present in your dreams every night.

Charlie Weasley looked down at you in complete and utter shock as he recognized your face that must have held the same expression.

And this guy, he had the audacity to actually throw a smug smile your way despite literally standing between you and certain death.

Fortunately at least one of you seemed able to think clearly as you broke the eye contact and refocused on the dragon.

“Watch out!“ You warned him as the dragon was about to attack. Quickly you cast Protego and saved your ex-boyfriend from a stream of fire.

He ran to your side and readied his wand as you tried to stand up, your ankle hurting with every move.

“Are you okay?“ He inquired and looked you up and down for any injuries.

You were about to spit into his face that everything was fantastic despite your broken heart and not hearing from him for two years but your conscious decided against it.

“Twisted my ankle, can’t run.“ You motioned towards your right foot and suppressed a hiss of pain.

“Running won’t get us out of here alive anyway,“ He pondered but quickly cast Episkey on your ankle which relieved you of at least some of the pain, “We’ll have to cast Stupefy together and hope it renders him unconscious long enough for us to escape.“

That was exactly what got you into this mess before but you were not about to argue with a trained dragonologist who just saved your life.

Charlie’s eyes skipped to the dragon frantically as he readied himself for an attack once again.

“Careful!“ He screamed and pushed you to the side, him throwing himself on you as the dragon’s fire reached the both of you.

Some of the flames caught your skin and the searing pain made tears well up in your eyes.

“Shit, shit shit!“ Charlie cursed who bore the brunt of the burn but was wearing special clothing that kept him safe. His caring eyes looked over your body when you entered some kind of frenzy.

There was a sharp pain everywhere and the whole world became unfocused, except Charlie, he was as clear as day.

He still had the same kind blue eyes as always and freckles all over his face like constellations of stars, maybe some more had appeared after the long days working in the sun.

The light scruff on his chin and around his mouth was new however and so was his stronger muscled physique that still lay on top of you.

He was still your Charlie, your first and only love, but he was also a man now. You couldn’t believe how much had changed about him in only two years. You had missed him so much.

“Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?“ His deep voice brought you back to reality. You managed to get a quiet yes out and watched as he breathed relieved.

“Listen, we have to get out of here first and then I can treat your burns. Okay?“ He held you by your waist as he helped you to a standing position again.

“Stupefy on three!“ He ordered and held you close to him, your arm around his shoulders to steady yourself.

“1…2…3!“ You gathered every single essence of magic left inside you and reached out for Charlie’s magic in the process. This wasn’t the first time the both of you cast a spell together.

You knew his magic better than yours at a time, even managed to cast his signature dragon Patronus once despite your original one being something else.

“Stupefy!“ You screamed in unison and felt as the power of the combined spell broke through your wand. The bright light blinded you for a second and you had to shut your eyes.

When you looked at the dragon it wasn’t moving anymore. Out of relief you sighed deeply and felt your feet give out beneath you shortly after.

Before you hit the ground however Charlie swept you up in his strong arms and left the forest in quick determined strides.

You were fading in and out of consciousness as he carried you away from the dragon but distinctly heard him ramble.

“Y/N! Y/N, stay with me! I cannot lose you again, do you hear me? Please stay with me.“ Your brain only registered half of what he said as your body was too tired and weak to keep you awake with the pain of the burns still sweeping through it.

As you closed your eyes your thoughts wandered to a song your mother used to sing to you when you were young. It was an old Irish tale of a gallant hero rescuing a young maiden and then leaving her.

As you felt your first love’s arms around you keeping you safe you started humming the melody of Mo Ghile Mear and slowly drifted into sleep.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery fanfiction #hphm #hphm mc #hphm charlie #jacob's sibling #mc #charlie weasley #charlie x mc #charlie x jacob's sibling #charlie x reader #Charlie weasley smut #Charlie weasley fanfiction

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the-fae-folk · 5 years

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A game of some kind

Sylvan-soul Has tagged us in this...we assume it is a game of some kind. Very well. We shall play. We do like games after all.

1. Nickname/pet name: We are The Host. The Folk. The Fae.

2. Zodiac: We were born under different stars than the ones you know, in a different age. None of the Constellations we name would be ones you are familiar with.

3. Height: Since we are a Host, there are many of us. Heights range from an inch tall to 2000 ft depending on the individual.

4. Last movie watched: We do not...watch movies. Though there are occasional performances by the humans who we have brought for feasts and other such events. The most recent was a young man who played the Ney Flute. He did not stop playing until he fell in a faint for lack of food and water.

5. Last thing we Googled: We use google only as one would use a road. We use it only to reach our destination, and no more than that.

6. Favorite musician(s): There was a young lady back in the 12th century who had a voice fit for angels, though she was but a human. Somehow her singing matched the ancient musics for the briefest moment. It was hauntingly beautiful.

7. Song stuck in our head: mo ghile mear

8. Other blog(s): No we do not.

9. Do we get asks: We do get occasional asks. But they are from those who wish to know more about our kind and how to safely treat with us. We find these...entertaining. And of course like all the Folk we will accept gifts.

10. Following: We are following 721 persons. Not all those we are interested in follow us, and not all those who follow us are we interested in. This is not a comment on their personal worth, merely our interest.

11. Dream trip: We once wandered beneath tree and across sands of the desert, over mountain and into deep valley. The world was once wild. Now much of what once was has changed. There are places were we cannot go for they have been sealed away or hidden for a variety of reasons. Though we know why we must not set foot in such places, we cannot help but dream of days gone by, and remember how things once were.

12. Lucky number: 7 and all multiples of 3

13. Amount of sleep: Some sleep for centuries, others sleep not at all, some sleep for hours or days, some have slept since the world began and will not wake until it comes to an end.

14. What we’re wearing: Those of us who wear clothes take spider silk, or flaxen thread. Silver hair, or white fur. The colors of the sunset, the moonlight. We take it and make clothes of all kinds to suit our varied tastes.

15. Dream job: Our job is what it always has been. To exist as we are.

16. Favorite food: Sweet water from the streams, nuts and berries, elk from the deep forests, wine of ages longer than human memory, fresh human baked bread with nuts and spices, cheese and cream offered as gifts, honey gifted to us by the bee folk, and many other foods.

17. Play any instruments: Many instruments. Some small few are: bells, harp, lyre, drums, flutes, fiddles, and of course our voices.

18. Languages: We speak our own languages, varied members of the Folk may know a human language or two of the regions in which they reside. Though we can use mortals we take or who give us their service in bargains to speak many of the human languages we do not know.

19. Favorite song: Musica universalis

20. Random Fact: The universe is very very large and very very old and filled with secrets.

21. Describe yourself as aesthetic thing: The stillness after a gust of wind, the moments of twilight after the sun has set but before the light has gone, an empty street usually busy, a quiet grove of trees in a dark wood, the running stream, an old unread book on a forgotten library shelf, a laughing child, a crying elder, a man who is moments away from death, a woman who has fire in her eyes, a hummingbird and a butterfly stop at the same flower and admire each other’s colors, a snake makes a grim meal of a mouse in the silence of the underbrush, a bloody battlefield at dawn, the surface of the sea and its great and secret dark depths in juxtaposition, and a promise kept even unto death.

We do not feel inclined to tag others in this game. Though those of us who wish to play it, are welcome to. The rules are “Answer 21 questions about yourself and tag 21 people whom you want to get to know better.”

#game #nicknames #secrets #questions #so many questions #faerie #fae #sidhe #otherfolk #food #job #music #language #songs #aesthetic #numbers #height #stars #human #flute #forests

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unofferable-fic · 4 years

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The Flower & The Serpent (Arthur Morgan x OFC)

Chapter 7 - The Luck of the Rebels

Summary: In the early 1890s, the Van der Linde Gang were truly at their finest. Experts at stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, they’ve made a name for themselves across the West. Two of their newest recruits, a pair of rebellious Irish siblings with an unknown past, slowly find their footing and settle into their new lives as outlaws. And yet, as they grow older, threats from all sides begin to appear. A strained relationship with Colm O'Driscoll spells disaster for the gang, and no matter how far they roam across America, the world continues to change around them. If they want to survive, difficult choices must be made. No one is as they seem and the impending arrival of law and order threatens to tear the siblings, and everything they hold dear, apart. Is it too late for anyone to find a happy ending?

Gif originally found here

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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OFC

Warnings: Language, Irish patriotism, fluff.

Word Count: 6,047

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Playlist: “Let Me In, Heathcliff” — Ruth Barrett, “Mo Ghile Mear (with Sting)” — The Chieftains, “The Rebel Soldier” — Craig Duncan, “We Hear Them Talking” — General Vibe

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A/N: Also available on AO3. Chapter seven comin’ at y’all.

Maebh found herself waiting uneasily with William and Davey in camp, eyes focused on the trail down which their companions had disappeared. While Davey asked her questions about what the hell her and John had seen, William remained eerily quiet, attention seemingly drifting between the visitor and the pocket watch in his hand.

She eyed him up and down, already knowing that his mind was going a mile a minute. “When did you lose the watch again?”

“Yesterday or last night,” he murmured, studying his possession carefully. “I’m not sure which.”

“Dutch didn’t break it, did he?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I think he just caught the edge of it with his foot, but it’s still tickin’ away.” He paused and then shoved it into the pocket of his jacket. When he spoke again, his voice was accompanied by a slight growl, unnerved with the unusual developments. “I definitely would’ve noticed had it been dropped outside his tent.”

“And if not you,” Davey began, eying the tree line. “One of us would’a noticed if it’s been missin’ that long.”

Though they were each clearly coming to the same conclusion, none of them seemingly wanted to say it aloud. Maebh sighed and quickly lit a cigarette, opting for any sort of distraction from the uneasy truth — someone had most certainly placed William’s watch outside Dutch’s tent. They wanted it to be found. And, lo and behold, on the same night when John spots a ropey figure sneaking around outside camp.

Hearing footsteps coming down the path, Maebh raised her head to see Dutch and Hosea returning. If their scowls were anything to go by, the probably didn’t find the person who was messing with them.

“You catch that fucker?” Davey asked, ever the optimist.

“No,” Dutch answered. “He was gone before we even arrived, but John was pretty insistent ’bout what he and Maebh saw. Arthur is gonna stay with him for the rest of the night, as am I, just in case that fool comes back.” His eyes drifted to William, who still wore a frown, deeply accentuating the scar running through his brow. “I believe you when you say you didn’t leave your watch there, William. It ain’t like you.”

“One of us would’ve noticed the watch sittin’ there for an entire day,” Maebh added, standing close to her sibling. “Especially if we’re always walkin’ in and out.”

“Right you are, Miss Hennigan. It doesn’t add up.”

Miss Grimshaw, who took it upon herself to explain to the other confused gang members what exactly was going on and why their sleep had been interrupted, returned with a double barrel shotgun in hand. “What’s the plan, Dutch?”

“Arthur, John, and myself are gonna stay on watch for the night while the rest of you get some sleep. It’s been a long evenin’.”

“You need an extra gun?”

“Sure, if you’re willin’. Ain’t no harm in it, I guess. But four is enough. Off to bed with the rest of ya.”

Had the events of that night not transpired, Maebh would have been excited to finally rest her eyes after a long and tasking day. And yet, when she went to her tent, she found it difficult to drift into sleep with the knowledge that someone had somehow invaded the only place in America where she and her brother felt safe. At least she could have some solace with him by her side.

* * *

3rd September, 1893, outside Winterset, Iowa

We haven’t seen hide nor tail of our camp intruder since Maebh and John’s run in outside camp. Though four of us remained on guard duty that night, he never came back, nor did he come back any night after that. There’s a tense atmosphere around camp, and while he is usually resilient, young William seems angry that someone could invade his personal space and steal something he held so dear. He is more inclined to go on guard duty now, and volunteers for anything that involves keeping an eye on camp. Probably wants to murder the bastard himself before anyone gets a hand in...

The train heist couldn’t be coming at a better time. Dutch seemed excited at the prospect of another good take and, after selling off some of the stolen goods from that homestead to a poor community outside Des Moines, more money couldn’t come at a better time. We could do with some new supplies, and god knows Pearson could do with some fresh meat or herbs or something. He wants me and Maebh to lead with this one considering Hosea is taking another lead and Bessie has come down with something. We’ve also brought in William and Marston for the job, with Karen on standby incase we need an extra gun to be on the safe side. It seems promising, and we could use some good news.

While John does some investigating about a plan of action and the local law, I’ll be heading over to Saint Charles to have a word with a friend of Trelawny’s about that train. After that, we need to discuss how we plan and stopping the thing without hurting any innocent folks…

* * *

Shutting his journal, Arthur yawned and got to his feet. As he put his hat on and strolled out into camp, Dutch approached. “Good mornin’, Arthur.”

“Mornin’, Dutch,” he replied with a little nod. “You seem in a good mood this mornin’.”

“That’s because it is a fine mornin’, son.” He waved a long arm around camp, the gang working away in the bright and warm day. “A fine mornin’!”

“Should be nice to ride to Saint Charles in this,” Arthur added, taking an apple out of his satchel. “After the weather we’ve had lately.”

Dutch began to walk with him over to the stew pot where Susan and Karen were already standing drinking their morning coffee. The two men poured their own cups as Dutch continued on. “I actually wanted to talk to you ’bout that. I’d like you to bring the two Hennigans along with you.”

“How come?”

“I think the young feller needs to get out for a bit,” Dutch elaborated. “He’s been on edge ever since his pocket watch was found — we all have. He needs a good distraction. And Miss Maebh, well, you know they’re attached at the hip.”

Arthur nodded his head in agreement, munching away on the fruit. “Sure, Dutch. What about Marston?”

“Everyone else is workin’, so I’ll go over any information he gathers. I got the Callander boys out on a lead with Karen, and Hosea is lookin’ into the next place we can move to if we need it. He’d rather stay here with Bessie on account’a her bein’ a lil sick.”

Arthur had a sup of his coffee and asked. “You got any plans today?”

“Bar helpin’ John, I’ve a woman I need to visit.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smirk at his mentor. “That girl from the saloon? You don’t waste time.”

“You gotta live life to the fullest, Mr Morgan. That and considerin’ we haven’t seen nothin’ ’bout that stranger since the other night, I don’t mind leavin’ camp for a few hours. Miss Grimshaw said she’d rather stay here to keep an eye out too, which gives me a chance to woo the lovely Annabelle.”

“Then you might as well live life to the fullest,” Arthur chortled, mirroring his previous words. The pair chatted casually over their coffee for a while more before Arthur went off to find the Hennigans. At Swanson’s suggestion, he found them a little while down stream, fishing together in an attempt to replenish food supplies. They sent him some enthusiastic greetings as he approached.

“Are you finally takin’ me up on my fishin’ offer, Arthur?” Maebh asked. “Or you here for somethin’ else?”

“Here for work,” he explained, noticing how they already had a few fish caught in a bag sitting on the shoreline. “If you two wanna get outta camp for the day.”

William’s brow piqued. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Is this ’bout the train?” Maebh replied.

“Oh, then we’re definitely comin’ with you!”

Arthur waved them after him. “Well c’mon then. Drop those fish off at Pearson’s wagon but bring one or two along — we can eat ’em on the way to Saint Charles. We mount up in ten.”

The siblings obliged and William slung the bag over his wide shoulders. With the fish delivered to a satisfied cook, the siblings soon met Arthur by the horses with some supplies for the day packed and ready for the short trip. It was thankfully quicker than the previous one Arthur and Maebh had ventured on with Hosea. They took a break on the outskirts of town to cook up some of their earlier catch. As they always were when in the other’s company, the siblings seemed in high spirits, joking and telling Arthur a story about learning how to fish as children.

“Da was adamant that we learn how to fish,” Maebh continued on as she ate the last bite of crispy fish meat. “Says we need’ta learn how to fend for ourselves and all that, right? So usually William takes to this stuff like a fish outta water — always got on with horses, always did great breakin’ ’em, was a natural at huntin’ and skinnin’ — but for some reason, this was another story. Da is teachin’ us how to cast and I do okay — it lands in the water as far as my little arms can send it. But William wants to cast his even further. So he whips it back as hard as he can, and flings it forward. We look up, only to see Da’s hat that he left sitting with our gear caught on the end of the line and goin’ flyin’ into the lake. Every time we went fishin’ after that, he would clutch his hat on top of his head and stand as far away from William as possible.”

The story gave Arthur a good-natured chuckle. “Well now I know where you two get your sense of humour from.”

“Our parents were both pretty sarcastic,”William agreed. “As is most of Ireland, I’d say.”

“How did you end up in America?” he asked with curiosity. “From how y’all talk about Ireland, it’s obvious you miss it.”

William threw his sister a glance before she answered. “The British didn’t exactly make it an easy place to live. There was fightin’ left and right so our parents thought it’d be easier to raise us here.”

“I ain’t gonna pretend like I know a lot ’bout Irish history, but I get the impression y’all ain’t fond of the English.”

“We don’t dislike all of ’em,” William added, though his tone was severe. “But their soldiers have been killin’ our people for centuries. There were people campaignin’ for home rule before we left, and when the bill didn’t pass, our parents left with us on a boat bound for New York.”

Arthur nodded along, eager to hear more of their time back home. Bar the usual exclamations about ‘the feckin’ Brits’, he rarely managed to get any information involving their mother and father. He knew nothing of Home Rule, he knew nothing of the British, but why would he? The only bit of education he received from the Hennigans was the fact the Potato Famine wasn’t technically a famine…

“So what, the Irish was tryin’ to rule themselves instead of havin’ the British rule them?” Arthur scratched at his chin in thought. “Seems like a good thing to fight for.”

“Course it was,” William agreed. “You lot had your own war with them too, sure.”

“I gather from your passion that your folks were patriots too?”

There was a short silence around the campfire and for a moment Arthur was worried he had overstepped with an apparently simple question. While Maebh remained silent on the subject, William replied carefully. “Yeah, they were a pretty patriotic pair if I’m honest.”

At that, the conversation dwindled and Arthur seized the moment to get to his feet. “We should, uh, pack up and head into town.”

The brother and sister followed his lead, quickly helping him put everything away and the trio were soon making their way into Saint Charles.

Leaving their horses hitched outside the local post office, Arthur addressed them both. “Okay, so from what Trelawny told us, the clerk who works behind the desk in there is crooked for the right price. We’ll go in and have a chat with him but you two leave the talkin’ to me.”

“You gonna charm him, Morgan?” William asked as they strolled towards the building.

“I ain’t no charmer, but I sure as hell know how to be a scary son-of-a-bitch.”

As they scaled the wooden steps up to the post office’s front door, Arthur spotted a man sitting on a bench outside with his eyes trained on them. At first, this older man made him wary, but as the stranger folded up the newspaper he had been reading, a wide smile covered his plump face.

“William Hennigan?” the man said, his eyes wide in astonishment. “Tusa atá ann nó a bhfuil mé ag taibhreamh?”

Arthur was dumbfounded and, before he could offer to cover up their identities, William stopped in his tracks and asked his own question. “An tUasal Ó Murchú?”

“Bhí a fhios agam gur tusa a bhí ann!” he said delightedly as William approached him for a friendly handshake. Only then did he notice the woman in their company. “Agus tá Iníon Maebh anseo freisin!”

“Buíochas le Dia,” Maebh exclaimed and offered the old man a warm hug. “Shíl mé nach bhfeicfinn tú arís. Conas atá tú?”

“Táim ar fónamh, táim ar fónamh!”

Arthur stood awkwardly on the sidelines as an apparent reunion took place with an old Irish friend. He watched his gang-mates, unsure as to whether he should introduce himself or leave them to a private exchange. While he bided his time, he looked this new man up and down. By his clothing, Arthur assumed he was a trader or farmer of sorts. He looked old enough — perhaps older that Dutch — with his greying hair and beard, and a heavyset frame. He was a big man in both weight and height; the kind of person William usually would have called a ‘big, mean-lookin’ bollocks’. Despite the fact he looked as though he could squash a man by sitting on him, the smile he wore seemed to never fade as he greeted the siblings and rambled on excitedly in their native tongue.

As Arthur looked around helplessly, Maebh suddenly remembered his existence and placed a hand on his arm. “Ah, Jesus, tá brón orm, an tUasal Ó Murchú. This is our friend, Arthur Morgan. Arthur this is an old friend of ours from Wisconsin, Mícheál Ó Murchú.”

Using what little Irish he had managed to remember, Arthur shook Mícheál's hand and offered him an unsteady greeting. “Dia duit, Mícheál.”

Maebh appeared somewhat surprised while Mícheál let out a laugh. “Dia is Muire dhuit, Arthur. An bhfuil Gaeilge agat?”

Arthur paused for a second before shaking his head with a laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid that’s all the Irish I got.”

“When did ye learn that?” Maebh asked, smiling broadly.

“Picked it up from listenin’ to you two. It’s ’bout all I could manage.”

“Sure it’s better than nothin’!” Mícheál replied in an accent almost as thick as his frame. “Sure look, a friend of the Hennigan kids is a friend of mine.”

“Mícheál was our old neighbour back in Wisconsin,” Maebh elaborated, smiling at the memory. “We met him on the boat over here. Owned a ranch up the way with his wife and son.”

“Ah,” Arthur drawled. “So you were tryin’ to get away from the English too?”

“Too fuckin’ right I was! That shower o’bastards took my land and didn’t they only go and reject another Home Rule bill yesterday.”

“I saw,” William grumbled with his arms folded across his chest. “All those governments are the same. Too busy steppin’ all over common folk to sort out any messes.”

“Usually the government are the ones causing ’em,” Arthur offered. “Though I can only speak for the American government in that regard.”

Mícheál gave him a friendly but hefty clap on the shoulder. “Here, I’m sure these youngins have eat your ear off enough that you know all ’bout na Sasanaigh back in Éire.”

“They may’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Arthur joked. “It’s been an educational experience.”

“Those kinda people have a lot to answer for” he growled before his expression turned solemn. The air shifted and Arthur had been confused with the sudden tension as Mícheál placed a hand on William’s shoulder. “I thought you too had been killed after I heard what happened to your dad. It was only when I saw the wanted posters did I know you’s had survived.”

Arthur shifted on his feet, unable to contain his interest in the change of conversation as the old friends caught up. Maebh glanced at him uneasily and he took that as a queue to take a few steps back. Though he gave them a little bit of privacy, he still heard the conversation as it continued on in their native tongue.

“Níor thug siad rogha dúinn, Mícheál,” Maebh was saying in a hushed whisper. “Fágadh amhail marbh muid.”

“Tá a fhios 'am,” Mícheál replied, sounding like he was trying to calm her. “Ní raibh mé ag súil le haon rud níos fearr . A leithéid de sprionlóir!”

“Ní féidir le duine ar bith a fháil amach cá bhfuilimid,” William chimed in. “Táimid ceart go leor, ach má fhaigheann an rialtas amach cá bhfuilimid, déanfar muid a mharú.”

Arthur looked at them over his shoulder as Mícheál nodded firmly. “Is binn béal ina thost!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Arthur cut in before pointing to the post office. “I’ll head inside and get that letter sorted while you three catch up, alright?”

“Sure thing, Arthur,” Maebh replied with a grateful smile. “Take your time.”

And take his time he did.

The clerk was, as Trelawny promised, more than happy to provide some information in exchange for a few dollars. He casually scribbled down the trains exact course and its scheduled times between stops. Thankfully, the lead became more and more promising with each new piece of information gathered. Sometimes these things turned out to be dead ends and he had certainly experienced his fair share of those. With a nod to the clerk, Arthur headed back into the cool morning air and saw that his companions still stood talking with the old man. Hugs were shared, by the looks of things they were parting ways. He met Maebh’s gaze and gave her a shrug, hoping that she understood his hesitance to interrupt. While her green eyes studied him intently, she held out delicate a hand to him, a gesture he took as a signal to return to the group. He awkwardly held her small hand in his and allowed her to gently pull him back into the fold. Despite the initial contact, he hadn’t been prepared for her to loop her arm around his in an affectionate manner.

“Thanks for that, Mícheál,” she said, switching back to a language he could understand. “You always were a good man.”

The old Irish man grinned beneath his thick white beard as he fitted a flat cap on to his head. “You’s two know more than anyone that this world can be a cruel one. We have to stick together if you want to make it outta here alive, isn’t that right, Mr. Morgan?”

“It sure is, Mr. Ó Murchú,” he replied, hoping that he hadn’t butchered the man’s last name with his inexperienced tongue. “You gotta be loyal to what matters.”

“You’s found yourselves a fine friend here, pháistí. A feckin’ fine friend indeed. Take care of each other and you know where I am if you’s need me.”

They exchanged their goodbyes, and soon Mícheál was ascending his wagon and rolling away with a casual wave. Arthur watched him go, noting the slightly despondent look on the siblings’ faces. “Y’all alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Maebh answered, still hanging on to his arm. “We’re good.”

“Guess we weren’t expectin’ to see him ’round here,” William offered measuredly, eyes fixed on the now distant figure. “It’s been four years since the last time.”

Unwilling to push them to talk about it if they weren’t comfortable, Arthur gave Maebh’s arm a gentle tug. “How ’bout we head back to camp then? I got all the information we need for the train.”

The siblings readily agreed, though their demeanours were far more reserved than they had previously been on arrival. He walked to their horses, half expecting for Maebh to release her hold on his arm, but instead she casually strolled arm in arm with him. The intimate gesture made his cheeks flush but he kept his mouth shut, sure that if she was uncomfortable she would have no problem with telling him to go away. As they reached her mount, Arthur released her arm and offered her a helping hand up on to Dullahan’s back. He knew she could get up on her own — this wasn’t something he doubted — but after escorting her along, it seemed like the polite thing to do. As she took the hand he offered in hers, he swallowed thickly and helped to hoist her upwards. Once she was safely seated, he hurried himself to his own saddle and kept his gaze on anything but her. Thankfully, it seemed like her thoughts were focused on other things. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help but focus his on the words Mícheál had uttered that he did manage to understand. He had, not by their choice, discovered some small things about Maebh and William’s upbringing that they clearly didn’t want anyone at camp knowing. At first he was uncertain as to whether he should be suspicious or worried. He had his own secrets for his own reasons, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that they too held untold stories close to their young hearts.

Mícheál had been correct about one thing — the world was a cruel, cruel place, one in which everyone seemed to have pasts that haunted them or hidden skeletons they could never forget.

They rode back to camp in a mostly silent and somber atmosphere, unsaid words and admissions held on tied tongues. In saying so little, they had said a lot. Arthur could only hope that some day they would trust him enough to share their undeserved burdens through honest conversation. Then, perhaps, he too could share his own.

* * *

Back at camp, Maebh was leading Dullahan along to graze with the other horses. Their trip to Saint Charles had gone well with regards the intention of gathering information. The run in with a ghost from their past, however, was unexpected. Still, she didn’t have much time to ponder the encounter before Dutch had called the three of them over to talk details.

Inside Dutch’s tent, John Marston sat over a bunch of papers, clearly in deep thought.

“Don’t think too hard there, Marston,” William said as he arrived. “Your brain ain’t used to that shite. It’ll explode if you push it too hard.”

“Fuck off, Hennigan,” John replied gruffly, clearly unamused. “Do you ever shut up?”

William paused, letting the silence hang. “Are you flirtin’ with me?”

Arthur let out a laugh while John nearly snapped the pencil he was clutching tightly. Dutch, sensing the ensuing argument, interrupted. “John, why don’t you update them on our plan before a fight breaks out in my tent?”

“Right.” He cleared his throat and began to address the group. “We’ve been thinkin’ ’bout how we’re gonna actually go about robbin’ this train. We was throwin’ some ideas together when I suggested the best way to go ’bout it would be to get ourselves on that train.”

“Whatchu mean ‘on it’?” Arthur asked with a thoughtful expression.

“We goin’ t’jump it?” Maebh added.

John shook his head. “We’re goin’ as passengers.”

“Hold on. You want us—” She quickly gestured between the four of them. “—to go as passengers on a train full of rich lads? Us?”

“Well… yeah.”

“We don’t exactly look like high caliber posh people, now do we?”

William scoffed. “Speak for yourself.”

“All we need to do is get cleaned up and buy some fancy clothes,” John insisted. “With Trelawny’s help we can tickets off that crooked clerk you met today and hop on the train before it heads through the quiet spot. Then, once it passes through there, we’ll start the robbery. We’ll have two in the first carriage and one at the back. One of us is goin’ to go dressed as a worker so they can get to the driver and force him to stop the train. This way, we got everythin’ covered. Get in, stop the train, rob ’em, and get out.”

“So what you’re sayin’,” William began slowly. “Is that we’re goin’ in undercover and we have’ta pretend to be snooty rich pricks? Like actors?”

“Basically, yeah.”

In a rare show of enthusiasm, the young Irishman clapped his hands. “Right, I’m in.”

“That’s actually not a half bad idea, Marston,” Arthur admitted, looking happy with the day’s work. “You’re gonna need a serious bath though.”

“You’ll all need serious baths if you’re gonna pass for those kinda rich bastards,” Dutch cut in, giving John a supportive squeeze of the shoulder. “You all did great work today — really great work — but we’ll get into specifics later. Go get somethin’ to eat and rest your feet awhile; you all earned it.”

Maebh was soon sitting at the campfire with William, forcing herself to eat Pearson’s leftover fish stew. They had been visibly uneasy since their encounter with Mícheál. He was the first person they had seen from their old life in Wisconsin and they were hardly expecting to see him in a different state altogether. He was nice enough to let them know where his new homestead resided outside Saint Charles and, while she was uncertain about visiting, William seemed fond of the idea. Perhaps at some point they would pay him a call for old time sake. He had always been a good man. Even their father used to trust him enough to take care of her and William when he wasn’t around.

Still, Arthur being there was an unfortunate circumstance she wished could have been avoided. What she and her brother had done was something she hoped he would never discover. Yes, they were outlaws and yes, they had probably done bad things themselves, but this was something that could bring more trouble on to the gang than necessary. As long as they never returned to Wisconsin, perhaps the confession could be avoided. The pressure that remained on her shoulders was constricting and weighed heavier today once Arthur had heard things she wished he hadn’t. She could only assume that William felt the same way.

Noting that the Reverend was sitting nearby, flicking through his bible, Maebh muttered to her brother in their native tongue. “Are you alright after earlier?”

He looked at her and replied in an even tone. “I suppose. It’s a bit of a weird one. It was nice to see Mr Ó Murchú, but I’m worried Arthur might be suspicious ’bout what he heard.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “It definitely would’ve sounded ropey to him.” She paused, finishing the last mouthful of her meal and placing the bowl and spoon on the ground. “I know it’s probably a stupid idea, bu I wish we could just, I dunno, talk to someone ’bout it.”

“That’s not stupid. It’d be nice if we could considerin’ it’s a weight that’s constantly there whenever Dutch talks ’bout loyalty…”

“If you had to tell one of ’em, who would it be?”

William’s brow furrowed, his deep scar highlighted in the light of the fire. “Hosea, Dutch, or Arthur if I’m honest. You?”

“I’d be happy to talk to Hosea or Dutch ’bout it, but not Arthur.” When he gave her a look of scepticism, she shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, but I’d be more worried ’bout him not trustin’ us as far as he could throw us afterwards. Whereas Dutch or Hosea might give us the benefit of the doubt.”

“Right, right,” William mumbled in understanding before releasing a sigh. “I get that. He’s been very good to us. I’d hate to see him put off by all those goings on.”

“Arthur is a good man to have on your side, so I aim to do very little in life to upset him. Y’know who might be good to talk to as well? Mrs Matthews.”

The idea grabbed William’s full attention. He wiped his beard and mouth with the back of his hand and dumped his bowl inside hers. “That’s actually a good shout.”

Mrs Matthews and Miss Grimshaw were definitely the matriarchs of the camp. They were always there to help if someone came back from a job injured, and always there to scold someone for not pulling their weight. While Miss Grimshaw was the type of person to blow off the kneecaps of someone who threatened you, Mrs Matthews was the type to embrace you afterwards and say you’ll be alright. They had both taken care of Maebh after the robbery in Winterset and while William was always there to help, sometimes friends with a more feminine touch were greatly needed. If there was someone she felt wouldn’t judge them, it was Bessie Matthews.

“Might be worth chattin’ to her and Hosea,” she suggested, nodding to the pair sitting off in their tent. “We don’t even have to get into specifics if we don’t want’a.”

After a moment’s contemplation, William clasped his hands together. “Suppose it’s worth a shot.”

He got to his feet and offered her a hand up. After leaving their bowls by the wagon, the pair strolled over to the tent where the older couple sat together, Hosea grounding up some herbs in a mortar while his wife read a book. She had a thick woven blanket wrapped around her shoulders, so Maebh assumed she was still feeling a tad under the weather.

“Knock, knock,” she said casually and waited outside. “Evenin’.”

Hosea looked up as they announced themselves and offered them a warm smile. “Ah, my favourite Fenian rebels.”

“Mind if we come in? Hopefully we’re not disturbin’ you’s.”

“Not at all! C’mon, take a seat.”

Maebh and William took him up on his offer, sitting themselves beside the laid out bedrolls. William eyed the older woman with concern. “How’re you feelin’, Mrs Matthews?”

“Not so bad,” she replied, sitting up sightly so that she could properly chat. “Feeling a little better than I did this mornin’.”

“Nothin’ a little ginseng can’t fix,” Hosea added, gesturing to the leaves he was grinding up. “This stuff is great when you’re under the weather. If you two ever happen upon some of it in your travels, bring it to me and I’ll show you how to make some health cures.”

“Cheers, Hosea,” William replied gratefully, looking at the mixture. “I’ll be sure to pass it on if I find some.”

“How did you two get on in Saint Charles today?”

William remained silent and allowed Maebh to take the lead with this one. “Good. We got all the information we needed from the clerk and it looks like Marston came up with some decent ideas for the heist while we were gone.”

“So it was a productive day all around then,” Bessie said with an encouraging smile. “I’m sure it’ll go off without a hitch.”

“Hopefully, yeah.”

“What brings you two to our tent, then?”

Keeping a close eye on her brother, Maebh answered. “We were actually wonderin’ if we could talk to you’s a’bout somethin’ more personal...”

Though the statement would probably bring a small sense of anxiety to most people, Mrs Matthews only offered an encouraging smile. “Of course. You know that you two can always come to us about anythin’, m’dear.”

“I dunno,” Maebh muttered. “We weren’t sure if we could come to any of you’s ’bout this.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Hosea said assuredly. “You two are in a gang fulla outlaws and orphans and folk who ain’t known nothin’ other than how to load a gun.”

“We understand that everyone probably has their own skeletons in their closet,” William said, adding his own two cents. “But ours won’t do us any favours.”

Bessie placed her hand over his in a comforting manner. “If it’s somethin’ weighin’ down on you both this much, then I’d rather you let it out. A guarantee you’ll feel better for it.”

“And we won’t see you as any different,” Hosea agreed, encouraging the discussion. “We’ll listen and help however we can. “Don’t you remember how Dutch and I met in the first place? A pair of hucksters tryin’ to rob each other, caught red handed, and y’know what we did? We laughed and shook hands.”

“And are you forgettin’ how they found Arthur and John?” Bessie said. “John about to be hanged for robbin’ a homestead and Arthur a petty criminal who would have no problem cavin’ your head in. Both only kids, but we took ’em in and tried to help. John had already murdered a man when he was only eleven years old. Do you really think we’re gonna look at you two any different?”

“All I know is,” Hosea began, mirroring his wife’s positivity. “That in the three years since you’ve joined this gang, you’ve both pulled your weight and done whatever you could to help the cause. You’ve no problem volunteerin’ for jobs or huntin’ to keep supplies up, and the bond you two share has only strengthened as time passed. You’ve both gelled right into the group and made friends that you trust to have your back. Regardless of what you tell us, we ain’t gonna suddenly turn ’round and erase the good years we’ve had.”

“He really has a way with words, don’t he?” Bessie chuckled and looked fondly at her husband.

Maebh looked to William, whose eyes conveyed the comfort he felt with regards telling the couple what they had done to wind up in such an unfavourable situation. With his permission, she took a deep breath and began telling their story.

Together, under the watchful gaze of two helpful elders, the Hennigans told all about their past discretions and how they came to be found robbing a risky stage in the middle of Wisconsin. Across camp, another pair of eyes were studying the youths carefully. Arthur sat atop his bunk, journal in hand and pencil scribbling away in an attempt to capture the scene. Ever the artist, he studied their expressions so that he could try to recreate the different emotions crossing their faces with lead on paper. He was unsure as to what the conversation had been about, but he could tell from the outside that it was something rousing a level of seriousness between the siblings. If he was to take a guess, it might have been about the unexpected encounter earlier that day.

Unable to do much else about it, Arthur sat and he drew, spending more time on capturing Maebh than the others. With careful strokes, he placed her profile on the page. Her eyes came next, then her thin nose, and rapidly moving lips. He didn’t notice how much time he’d spent on her before moving on to the others, but it seemed necessary. He felt that words weren’t enough to capture the range of emotions being expressed within the tent and the apparent story he couldn’t hear being shared. The beauty of the moment was something he wished to see and relive whenever he flicked through the pages of his journal. Whatever they had been through, he dearly wished to capture it.

Arthur took care in recreating her, more than he ever realised in the moment.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #john marston #red dead redemption fandom #rdr #rdr2 #fanfiction #fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #the flower and the serpent #dutch van der linde #hosea mathews #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x ofc

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happywitch416 · 7 years

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Asking... All the questions! ❤️❤️🦋😂

Ask and ye shall receive! Slowly and in fragments cause the brain is fogged and pained. Thanks, love

How are you doing today? Everything hurts *cries* but otherwise it has been a very good day

How tall are you? 5’6

What color are your eyes? Slate

What is your zodiac sign? Cancer

When is your birthday? July 19

What is your sexual orientation? Pansexual

Do you have/want any tattoos? All the want. So much want.

Do you have/want any piercings? All on my ears for now. But I want several more.

Who is your best friend? Hubs, you, Fen. lol

What makes you happy? Warm tea, books, craft supplies, music

What are your top 5 favorite bands? Halestorm, Celtic Woman, Lindsay Stirling, Hollywood Undead, Meghan Trainor

What are your top 5 favorite songs? I am the Fire by Halestorm, Live Forever by Hollywood Undead, Shatter Me and Mirage by Lindsay Stirling. Mo Ghile Mear by Celtic Woman.

What are your favorite song lyrics right now? Know that love will never fail Know that I will sing to you Each night as I dream of you

What are your top 5 favorite movies? Lord of the Rings (It only counts as one lol), Legend, Beauty and the Beast, Ultraviolet, Marie Antoinette

What are your top 5 favorite TV shows? Uh. I don’t know. I don’t watch that many tv shows really. NCIS. I like docu-dramas. Historical dramas like Reign and the Tudors. I like Flash, Gotham, and Supergirl is okay. But I don’t watch them religiously or anything. I think I’m still in season one for both Reign and the Tudors.

Favorite blog?

Favorite color? Purple

Favorite book? Just one? Uh. Both bookcases. I’ll just send you an inventory. lol

Favorite animal? Cats, big ones, little ones. All the cats

Favorite food? Doritos. Can’t resist them. I know they are garbage but I can sit and eat a family sized bag of them with a glass of milk and be happy as a clam.

Are you a vegetarian? No, but I could be very easily. I only eat meat a two or three times a week. Its not my favorite. If hubs wasn’t such a carnivore, we wouldn’t have it at all cause Moose has the same opinion I do.

Biggest pet peeve? Willful ignorance.

Are you single? Oh definitely not.

How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Official count: Two boyfriends and one girlfriend. My opinion of dating was very low. lol

Describe your crush? Crushes. Stars with a lovely voice to match, art along skin and trailing from fingers. Brown eyed anchor with the best damn shoulders this side of the river.

Describe your dream girl/guy? Found them.

Who was the last person you held hands with? Fen. Lol Held paw? Its cute.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Last night I felt the need for several, whether they were responsive or not lol so you and hubs.

Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Definitely. Both emojis and real life

Random fact about yourself? I can wiggle my nose.

Do you play any instruments? Sadly no

What are you bad habits? Don’t have any, I am perfect. lol

Do you smoke, drink or do any drugs? Nope.

Are you outgoing or shy? Neither.

Do you have trust issues? Possibly.

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? It can lol

Where are you from? A town even smaller than the one I live in. Scary, right?

Where would you like to travel? Everywhere!

Have you ever been arrested? Almost once.

What pisses you off? People taking advantage of others, people being inconsiderate. People not caring about their kids.

What turns you on? Neck and ear kisses. Long makeout sessions. Love bites.

What does the most recent text that you sent say? Everything hurts and I want to set shit on fire.

Do you believe in luck and miracles? Yes. And that you can make your own.

Do you believe in life on other planets? Yes. To believe we are the only life in the universe is unbelievably self-centered, but so very human. It certainly follows the line of thinking that the sun revolves around us, does it not?

Do you believe in love at first sight? Lust yes, love is more than that.

Do you believe in ghosts? Yup.

Are you afraid of the dark? Not the dark, what’s in it sometimes.

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My stomach. Its all lumpy and weird and scarred from childbirth. It also hurts at the moment. Uncomfortable does not begin to cover it.

Do you sleep with stuffed animals? A great big stuffed giraffe and a life sized teddy bear…wait that’s my husband. :)

Do you regret anything from your past? No. Not much point in regrets. You can’t change the past, you can let it control your present and your future but why? Why let what is done have that kind of power? By all means, if you have made a mistake and can rectify it, do so. But beyond that? Learn from it and move on.

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celtfather · 5 years

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Galway Shawl #412

Wrap the Galway Shawl around your shoulders and listen to the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast. http://bestcelticmusic.net/

Matthew Dickerson, Tartanic, Dervish, Susana Seivane, Celtic Woman, Tullamore, Keith Hinchliffe, Heather Dale, The Kilt Lifters, Clan Celtica, Templars of Doom, Haggis Rampant, Rattle the Knee, New Time Ensemble

I hope you enjoyed this week's show. If you did, please share the show with ONE friend.

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast is dedicated to growing our community and helping the incredible artists who so generously share their music. If you find music you love, buy their albums, shirts, and songbooks, follow them on Spotify, see their shows, and drop them an email to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast.

Remember also to Subscribe to the Celtic Music Magazine. Every week, I'll send you a few cool bits of Celtic music news. It's a quick and easy way to plug yourself into more great Celtic culture. Plus, you'll get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free, just for signing up today. Thank you again for being a Celt of Kindness.

VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20 With the new year comes a new votes in the Celtic Top 20. This is our way of finding the best songs and artists each year. Just list the show number, and the name of as many bands in the episode as you like. Your vote helps me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2019 episode. Vote Now!

THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

"Off to California/Tom Morrison's Hornpipe" by Matthew Dickerson from When I'm Happy and I Know It

"Galician Carnivale" by Tartanic from Uncharted

"The Galway Shawl" by Dervish from The Great Irish Songbook

"Reviravolta" by Susana Seivane from Os Sonos Que Volven

"Mo Ghile Mear (My Gallant Star) [Live]" by Celtic Woman from Homecoming: Live From Ireland

CELTIC FEEDBACK

"Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation" by Tullamore from Six Strings and Coffee Beans

"Fanny Power" by Keith Hinchliffe from A Wee Dram

"The Prydwen Sails Again" by Heather Dale from Avalon

"Tam Lin" by The Kilt Lifters from Pour Another Round

CELTIC PODCAST NEWS

"Heidache" by Clan Celtica from Tribal Thunder

"Tattoo Covered Hag" by Templars of Doom from Hovels of the Holy

"Scotland the Brave / Wings (feat. Ken Petrie)" by Haggis Rampant from Burly! Haggis Rampant Plugged In

"Na Ceannabháin Bhána-Bean Phádín-Down to the Well for Water-Humours of Derrykissane" by Rattle the Knee from Paving and Crigging

"Road to Taynuilt" by New Time Ensemble from A Year In Ireland

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather. To subscribe, go to Apple Podcasts or to our website where you can become a Patron of the Podcast for as little as $1 per episode. Promote Celtic culture through music at http://celticmusicpodcast.com/.

CELTIC PODCAST NEWS

* Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. My name is Marc Gunn. I am a Celtic musician and podcaster. This show is dedicated to the indie Celtic musicians. I want to ask you to support these artists. Share the show with your friends. And find more episodes at celticmusicpodcast.com. You can also support this podcast on Patreon.

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TRAVEL WITH CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS Every year, I take a small group of Celtic music fans on the relaxing adventure of a lifetime. We don't see everything. Instead, we stay in one area. We get to know the region through it's culture, history, and legends. You can join us with an auditory and visual adventure through podcasts and videos. Join the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/

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Check out this episode!

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cursebreakerglenetive · 6 years

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Mo Ghile Mear - Part 2

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x reader

Warning/Genre: a little bit of angst, a little bit of smut and whole lot of fluff at the end

Word count: 2.4k words

Summary: Y/N wakes up in Charlie’s cabin and he’s healing her while trying to avoid a conversation about their breakup at all costs. Y/N finds herself reminiscing about the past.

A/N: I am sorry it took me so long and it kind of turned out like a filler but I hope the cursive flashback at the end of the chapter and the sexual tension satisfy you. Loved your feedback so far and am always happy to hear some more and your thoughts and ideas xx

Tags: @dyslexiccherry @eh-ilikestuff @hermionemonica

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Flashing images of green scales repeated themselves in front of your eyes accompanied by a red searing pain. It was hot, way too hot and your whole body felt like being set on fire.

You distantly remembered fighting a dragon. And there was a head of ginger curls shining in the sunlight. You knew this image, it came to you nearly every night when you were dreaming about him.

Charlie had been there, too. But now you were not so sure about the realness of your dream or rather nightmare.

You jolted awake when a blazing pain covered your right arm. You slowly opened your eyes only to be met with the red head of curls from your dreams leaned over your arm.

You must’ve groaned out load or something because his face snapped up to yours with a worried line on his forehead.

“You’re awake.“ He pointed out the obvious and stood up to hover over you, his blue eyes scanning your face. You weren’t so keen on that because you probably looked like absolute shit right now.

“Dragon?“ Was everything you asked with a raspy voice, you were terribly dehydrated.

Charlie immediately rushed to the closest sink in the little cabin to get you some water. “Yes, dragon,“ He chuckled as he helped you sit up carefully not touching the burns on your arms. “We got away safely and the Romanian Longhorn isn’t harmed.“ Of course he would worry about the goddamn beast that nearly killed the both of you.

It wasn’t the first time that you felt like he loved these dragons more than he could ever love you…or anyone for that matter. That was one of the reasons you broke up.

Lifting your arms to take a sip hurt like hell but you would never let Charlie help you with that as well, the situation was humiliating enough as it was.

“Sooo…“ Charlie drawled out and took a seat across from you “What are you doing in Romania?“

You couldn’t keep yourself from staring at the way he sat there with spread thighs and his muscular arms steadied on them. Charlie had always been quite muscular due to his many outdoor activities including Quidditch but after these two years of being separated he became even fitter.

“I’m on vacation, isn’t that obvious?“ You remarked sarcastically and let your eyes sweep over the interior of the little cabin.

You were laying in a rustic bedroom adjoined by a little bathroom and you made out a kitchen through the doorway. As you looked around the room you noticed lots of books and drawings of dragons, also a lot of bandages and ointment for treating burns. It didn’t look like a woman had ever stepped foot into this place and it took some pressure of your chest.

As your gaze wandered back to Charlie he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk on his lips. He always knew when you weren’t serious and wouldn’t take any of your shit.

“I’m on a mission,“ You sighed “I was about to crack this curse on a cave when the dragon unkindly interfered.“

“Tonks told me you and Jacob started a Curse-Breaking firm,“ He nodded and stroke the scruff on his chin thoughtfully.

“You’re still in contact with her?“ You questioned startled. You were still close friends with your favorite Metamorphmagus but she had never mentioned anything about Charlie despite them being best friends at Hogwarts. You just figured that he broke contact with all of your friends, and not only you.

“Yeah, she kept me updated.“ His eyes locked with yours and you were both aware of the words that hung in the air. She kept me updated about you.

An icky feeling pooled in the pit of your stomach at that thought. He probably knew how miserable you had been since he left you after graduation. But not once did he think of contacting you in person.

Of course you didn’t want to hear from your friends how splendid he did in Romania, living his dream without you. But seeing him now across from you he felt like a whole different person.

“Why?“ The question left your lips although you didn’t really know what you were asking.

Why did he decide to leave you? Why have you never heard from him? Why did he still check up on you? Why was he so far away when you needed him close by?

Your vision involuntarily blurred as your eyes met his, looking so completely heartbroken for you in this awkward situation. It was the same expression on his face as when he watched you crying after he told you he would leave. You couldn’t take it.

“You know I care about you.“ It was as simple as that to him. But that answer did not nearly satisfy you.

“No, Charlie. Why did you never write or visit or anything?“ You felt the tears well up in your eyes once again, this time from a whole different pain. “You never even tried to make this work!“ You accused him and motioned between the both of you which only made you wince because of the pain.

He was at your side in a matter of seconds, a worried gaze sweeping over you.

“Let me treat your wounds first and then we’ll talk,“ He offered and got to work before you could deny him. “Why did you even try to fight a dragon all by yourself?“

His hands worked quickly as he gathered some bandages and the ointment. He was a master of distraction but you were kind of thankful that he delayed the topic for later because you didn’t have it in you yet to scold him.

“I didn’t know there would be a dragon,“ You mumbled and clenched your teeth as he spread the salve on your skin carefully. “The stupid client didn’t mention it and Jacob is on a solo mission in France.“ You hissed and clenched the bedsheets in your hands.

Charlie’s bedsheets as you noticed, the familiar scent only reaching you now.

“So you just ran straight into danger as always,“ A disappointed but also amused tone laced his voice and he mumbled something under his breath: “Stupid hero complex.“

“Well, you know me.“ Better than anyone. A cheeky grin graced your lips as he looked up with a suppressed smile, his ginger curls hanging in his eyes.

“You’ve always been reckless. It’s probably the reason why I became such a great nurse.“ He chuckled and motioned to your left arm wrapped in a perfect bandage.

The two of you had been in this situation a million times before. He always stitched you back together after a duel with Merula or a particular hard quest on the Cursed Vaults. Often enough it was the other way around, you helping him with his wounds. Most of them were from him being too naive with magical creatures, some from quidditch and more than you’d liked from him following you into battle.

Your mind drifted to those times at Hogwarts, a lot of kisses always entailed a treatment. You wouldn’t receive those today most likely.

His thoughts must’ve gone to the same place because when you looked at him his eyes were fixed on your lips. Your breath hitched a bit and when he noticed he quickly averted his eyes, a blush forming on his freckled cheeks.

“All done,“ He commented after a while when the last bandage was fixed “It will probably take a couple days until you’re fit again though. I’m sure I have some Wiggenweld potion somewhere here.“ He stood up already roaming the mess of the room for the vial but you grabbed his arm quickly.

“What do you mean a couple days? I have to finish my mission and get back home.“

There was no possible way you could stay any longer in Charlie Weasley’s cabin.

“Oh no, you are going nowhere,“ Charlie intervened and sat down on the bed beside you. “You can barely move and you shouldn’t take these burns too lightly, they’ll wear you out sooner than you think. You’re staying here.“ His tone didn’t leave any room for discussion.

You were about to argue with him when his stern face shut you down immediately. You hated that after all those years Charlie was still the only person who could somehow reason with you.

Anybody else never stood a chance against your stubbornness and reckless courage. But the Weasley boy knew you too well and kept you from getting in lots of trouble in the past.

“Fine, but only until I can move without pain again.“ You agreed angrily and stared him down until he left the bed with a dazzling smile.

“Sure thing, curse-baby.“ He laughed and you felt a stab in your chest at the mention of your old nickname.

It came so effortless over his lips, like it never meant anything.

“Charlie?“ You called out to him as he already stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his broad shoulders barely fitting between. “We still have to talk.“

He turned around to look at you and then at the ground, leaning against the wall.

“Rest a bit, I’ll fix you something to eat and then we’ll talk.“ He obviously was avoiding the dreaded conversation. You couldn’t really blame him but you needed some kind of clearance.

You nodded and laid back down on Charlie’s pillows, smelling like fresh grass and honeysuckle.

You breathed in his scent deeply, finally being able to feel it again after only carrying the memory with you for so long.

You thought about all the times you woke up next to him, his scent invading your mind, his bare chest beneath the palm of your hand and a lazy grin on his sinful lips as he whispered good morning with a rough voice before pulling you into him and pecking your lips softly.

And as you laid there, Charlie in the room next door, you couldn’t help yourself but dream about the future that might had been.

“What do you mean you never tried firewhisky?“ Charlie laughed loudly as you looked down at him laying in the grass his bright red hair like a halo around his face.

“I just never got the chance,“ You giggled laying next to him and ripped some grass out only to throw it at him “At the ball Tulip and Tonks finished the only flask we brought before I even got the chance to take a sip!“

“I just can’t believe this,“ He still chuckled. “You, Y/N Y/L/N, the biggest rulebreaker of our generation never snuck a sip of alcohol in your whole seventeen years of living!“

“Nearly eighteen!“ You reminded him and your lips formed into a pout.

His hand moved to the nape of your neck and his fingers intertwined themselves in the strands of hair there. He slowly pulled you down on him and pressed his lips, warmed by the spring sun, against his own.

You lost yourself in his mouth and the sweetness of it. You could spend days laying here with him on the school grounds far away from all responsibilities and anyone who might disturb you.

“Did you never crave this feeling of absolutely losing control?“ He broke the kiss and you sighed annoyed.

“If you haven’t noticed my whole life is kinda out of control.“ It was meant as a joke but as you spoke it out loud the truth of it hit you hard.

Charlie’s face turned serious as he regarded your somber face.

“We’ll find your brother.“ He promised and stroke your cheek carefully. You turned your head into his palm and left a tiny peck on it. You knew you could always count on him.

“You make me lose control too, you know. More often than I’d like.“ You tried to lighten the mood and grinned at him.

“Do I now?“ Charlie’s smug smirk drove you absolutely crazy.

If it weren’t for that smirk you probably wouldn’t have rushed into this mess. You wouldn’t have kissed him, wouldn’t have started a friends with benefits relationship with him and definitely wouldn’t have fallen in love with your best friend. But now it was too late.

“Hmh.“ His hands grabbed onto your body and pulled you on top of him before pressing his lips to yours.

Feeling Charlie so close to you was exhilarating and made your nerves tingle from head to toe.

His mouth latched onto your throat, leaving little hickeys behind that you could hex away later so none of your friends would notice them.

Suddenly he turned you around, now laying on top of you, your back pressed in the grass between wildflowers. You needed him badly and you felt him needing you too but you weren’t reckless enough to do this in the middle of a meadow on school grounds.

He broke away from the kiss staring at you kindly, his blue eyes crinkled at the edges from smiling so much were the same color as the sky above him.

“Y/N,“ He breathed heavily and your hands tugged on his beautiful curls of fire “I think I’ve fallen in love with you.“

You heart skipped a beat as you heard the words you only dreamt of hearing for the past few months. Slowly a smile started to form on your lips until you were both beaming at each other.

“I have fallen in love with you as well, Charlie!“ His mouth attached itself to yours again in a passionate kiss, teeth clashing from smiling too much.

“Then I think it’s time we make it official.“ Charlie thought out loud and intertwined your fingers looking down at them.

“Are you for real?“ You couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived when Charlie Weasley would be your boyfriend.

He nodded at you smiling, his adorable freckles gleaming in the sun. “C’mon, we’ll tell the others straightaway!“ He was about to sit up but you pulled him down against you.

“Not quite yet…I want to have my boyfriend all to myself for now. Besides, I think the others already kind of guessed there was something going on between us.“ You giggled against his lips.

He laughed but obliged when he peppered your whole face with little kisses and the both of you lost yourself between the flowers of the meadow.

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