“Aye…” Aengus was quiet for a minute, and it took a lot of Alfred’s self-control not to interrupt. Finally, he continued: “Well, you know I was raised by Midir. After I took Brú na Bóinne and my mother’s ‘usband’s kingdom, Midir came to visit. By way of an accident, ‘e was blinded, temporarily, mind, by my sons. I promised to make it up to ‘im, and what I ended up ‘aving to do was get a childhood sweetheart of mine to marry ‘im. And mind you, we’re brothers, and I still needed to do the impossible for ‘im. Others are far less forgiving.” Aengus paused again, thinking. Alfred held his breath. “So that’s ‘ow I became responsible for ‘is marriage to Étaín. I ended up ‘aving to clear ‘undreds of acres of farmland, and create rivers, and then pay ‘er weight in gold and silver. All so she could marry my brother. Not that I begrudge them their ‘appiness; they love each other. But I ‘ad to do all the work the first time, lazy divil.”
Alright, that was a lot to process. Alfred was quiet for a moment as he took apart the new information and tried to piece it together with what he already knew. Darn he still didn’t know anything about the curse on Aengus! He needed information. But he knew now he wasn’t likely to get it.
Aengus finally looked at Alfred. “But besides all of that, it looks like Adain’s got you in right sulk as well.”
Alfred sighed. “I don’t know…” Alfred was quiet as he suddenly realized why he had such a bad reaction just to that tone. It reminded him distinctly of how Arthur and he would fight before they got together, before they’d worked a lot of things out. The thing was, Alfred didn’t love Adain like he did Arthur, and thus was a lot less willing to forgive him.
“’Ere.” Aengus stood, and then tossed Alfred’s backpack to him, seeming somehow to know he wasn’t ready to talk. “Get ready to go. We’re going to try the trolls. Don’t know what’s keepin’ ‘im, but we can’t wait another day for the gryphon.” Aengus spared Alfred a gruff smile. “I suppose you think I can’t make a decent plan to save my life, don’t you?”
“Aengus…” Alfred shook his head and said slowly, grinning, the gears whirling in his head. “You don’t have a life to save.”
Aengus’s loud guffaws echoing in the cave as Aengus headed back in brightened Alfred considerably. There was nothing quite like having someone laugh at your jokes to lighten your mood. Alfred stood up as well, gazing out at the canyon from his vantage point once more. It was so beautiful here; if it wasn’t so hard to get to, it’d be a great place for a summer home. Alfred vaguely wondered exactly what old Frankie Wright would have done with a house here. Alfred was sure it would be so cool…
Alfred noticed an odd shadow weaving and dipping and moving on the canyon walls, dark. Alfred’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what exactly the shape was. Huh, it was moving waaayy to fast to be a cloud… Alfred looked up. Huh, nothing. Perhaps the clouds just moved too quickly here…
Perhaps he should just go inside and apologize to Adain a bit. Apologizing sometimes went aways with Arthur, even if he wasn’t completely at fault. Perhaps it went that way with dragons as well. Alfred knew he wasn’t likely to get a reciprocal apology out of Adain, even though Alfred felt most of the blame resided with him, but whatever. He’d long learned that sometimes, for some people, accepting an apology was an apology in and of itself.
Five seconds later, Alfred heard the sound of feathers on wings, and a loud, birdlike scream.
Less than half a moment after that, Alfred looked up. His face paled. Fuck.
This chapter needed to sit a bit. I never did get the chance to run this by my beta, since she’s at band camp this week, so I hope this works all right.
First and second anon: Thank you, I’m so happy you liked it!
Again-last-anon: Yes, yes he is left handed, though if you’re curious, in this verse, he was forced for a good part of his early years to be right handed, as was the custom until only around forty years ago. So, take that as you will, cross, ambidextrous, whichever. If you ask him though, he’s quite stubborn about the fact that he is left handed. :)
Crowe 10i/?
Alright, that was a lot to process. Alfred was quiet for a moment as he took apart the new information and tried to piece it together with what he already knew. Darn he still didn’t know anything about the curse on Aengus! He needed information. But he knew now he wasn’t likely to get it.
Aengus finally looked at Alfred. “But besides all of that, it looks like Adain’s got you in right sulk as well.”
Alfred sighed. “I don’t know…” Alfred was quiet as he suddenly realized why he had such a bad reaction just to that tone. It reminded him distinctly of how Arthur and he would fight before they got together, before they’d worked a lot of things out. The thing was, Alfred didn’t love Adain like he did Arthur, and thus was a lot less willing to forgive him.
“’Ere.” Aengus stood, and then tossed Alfred’s backpack to him, seeming somehow to know he wasn’t ready to talk. “Get ready to go. We’re going to try the trolls. Don’t know what’s keepin’ ‘im, but we can’t wait another day for the gryphon.” Aengus spared Alfred a gruff smile. “I suppose you think I can’t make a decent plan to save my life, don’t you?”
“Aengus…” Alfred shook his head and said slowly, grinning, the gears whirling in his head. “You don’t have a life to save.”
Aengus’s loud guffaws echoing in the cave as Aengus headed back in brightened Alfred considerably. There was nothing quite like having someone laugh at your jokes to lighten your mood. Alfred stood up as well, gazing out at the canyon from his vantage point once more. It was so beautiful here; if it wasn’t so hard to get to, it’d be a great place for a summer home. Alfred vaguely wondered exactly what old Frankie Wright would have done with a house here. Alfred was sure it would be so cool…
Alfred noticed an odd shadow weaving and dipping and moving on the canyon walls, dark. Alfred’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what exactly the shape was. Huh, it was moving waaayy to fast to be a cloud… Alfred looked up. Huh, nothing. Perhaps the clouds just moved too quickly here…
Perhaps he should just go inside and apologize to Adain a bit. Apologizing sometimes went aways with Arthur, even if he wasn’t completely at fault. Perhaps it went that way with dragons as well. Alfred knew he wasn’t likely to get a reciprocal apology out of Adain, even though Alfred felt most of the blame resided with him, but whatever. He’d long learned that sometimes, for some people, accepting an apology was an apology in and of itself.
Five seconds later, Alfred heard the sound of feathers on wings, and a loud, birdlike scream.
Less than half a moment after that, Alfred looked up. His face paled. Fuck.
This chapter needed to sit a bit. I never did get the chance to run this by my beta, since she’s at band camp this week, so I hope this works all right.
First and second anon: Thank you, I’m so happy you liked it!
Third anon: Ahh bristlecone pines! Yes, they’re quite fun, aren’t they?
Again-last-anon: Yes, yes he is left handed, though if you’re curious, in this verse, he was forced for a good part of his early years to be right handed, as was the custom until only around forty years ago. So, take that as you will, cross, ambidextrous, whichever. If you ask him though, he’s quite stubborn about the fact that he is left handed. :)