Mo Shíorghra by DarkandLovely
Summary:

There once was a folktale told through generations of Irishmen. That of the selkie. Seals that with magic are able to transform into humans. An African-Irish woman abandoned by her townspeople in 1710 discovers that she is among them. Not only that but under the watch of one particular creature.

 


Categories: Original Fiction Characters: None
Classification: Drabbles , General
Genre: Drama, Erotica, Friendship, Historical, Romance
Story Status: Completed
Pairings: None
Warnings: Adult Situations, Extreme Language, Original Characters, Sexual Content , Strong Sexual Content , Un-betaed
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: Yes Word count: 8165 Read: 457 Published: February 28 2022 Updated: February 28 2022

1. foreward by DarkandLovely

2. 01 by DarkandLovely

foreward by DarkandLovely

Hey, y'all. So I spent this entire weekend writing hehe. Wow. Two one-shots in two days. I'm proud of myself. hehe. First and foremost, I would like to dedicate this work to one of my readers on wattpad by the name of uncouthwriter. hehe. We had been talking about our backgrounds and I revealed to her that I have Irish/Scottish ancestry. (Also, Nigerian ancestry which is what we were clicking bout haha. LOL Shout out to all my Naija queens). Anywhoo, she recommended that I write a story highlighting my Irish/Scottish ancestry, and well hehe here we are. 

I have always been the girl with a strong connection to Ireland from the time I was young. I played the Celtic Woman CD so much as a kid that my mother BEGGED ME (really threatened to break it LOL I KID NO SHE DIDN'T BUT SHE DEFINITELY THOUGHT ABOUT IT) to stop playing it LOL. The worlds of fairies, earth, and fantasy worlds too. (still, honestly.) I've recently come to accept that it's just in my blood. The number one thing on my bucket list is to visit Ireland one day. Nigeria is in the top five. ehehe. 

This story and the soundtracks I listened to while creating it made me feel proud to be of Irish /Scottish descent.  

This is set in 1710. Ireland. A black Irish woman is born with vitiligo and because of the society she lives in, she is ostracized and outcasted. 

Enter (the ridiculously fine...) Timothee Chalamet. (seriously y'all I honestly kinda forgot about white boys lol. But bruh... this man here..) He will play our main male lead hehe. LOL

I hope you enjoy the story hehe. I really put my heart and soul into this. 

Y'ALL KNOW THE DRILL. IT'S GOT CLASSY NASTY IN HERE AND LANGUAGE. THIS IS YOUR WARNING.

 

Timothée Chalamet as Rian 

 

Deborah Moreno as Aoibhinn:

01 by DarkandLovely

01 

 

 

 

 The fire crackled loudly, popping pieces and breaking others of wood. There, a small gatheringof people sat on the beach, mugs lifted with ale, teeth grinning, smiling, and laughing. 

Ruddy cheeks of children greeted parents and hands caressed smooth blond and reddish-blond hair. 

"Aine, come sit on Papa's lap." The girl obediently went towards her father and lifted herself onto his thigh. 

"My sweet girl, shall Papa tell you a story befor' bedtime?"

"Aye."

"There once was a tale of creatures in the sea."

"What kinda creatures Papa?" 

"Ones they said had large black eyes and legs of fin." The chatter of the group soon grew quiet as they too began to listen to the tale. 

"Selkies they call them. Creatures of the deep vast waters who are able to come ashore." The small girl gasped, her beautiful blue eyes glittering. 

"How?"

"It is said that they cast aside their seal skin and hide it someplace man won't look. The skin is said to have magical powers enabling their fins to shift into human legs." The girl, unlike those of her brothers and sisters, appeared intrigued. Fear did not grip the girl as she listened and her mother smiled, reaching to comb through her soft strands. 

"Papa, where do the selkie come from?"

"I don't know a stór." (my treasure) 

"That's enough now of pointless tales mo cuishle. (my pulse. Another word for my darling.) The moon brings in her tide now." Eyes all turned towards the moonlit sea, the waves quiet and still. The light of the moon herself blazed a beacon of illumination so bright and beautiful. 

"Come, we've had our fun and our ale. Padraig had to wake early and head to the docks ya' know. Come on."

"Aye Aye." Placing the little girl back onto the ground, Fionn grabbed his daughter's hand and with the scatter of sand, the family left the dying fire, waves, and cool air. The waves lapped against the shore banks, bringing with it an outline of a creature. Under the moon's glow, deep round black eyes began to shift and change. The large rounded body began to grow narrow, wet grey flesh soon replaced with smooth pale white skin that stretched over bones, sinew and muscle. Fins elongated into willowy arms, long legs and hands and feet. A head of thick dark curly hair covered the skull of what now was a human man.

Breath entered his lungs and he for a moment remained still as he breathed in the moist sand and smell of the water. Slowly, he began to lift up onto his knees. Finding the thick pelt of grayish-blue skin, he took hold of it and stood to his full height. Tracks of bare feet prints lined the shores as the lone man traveled in the shade of salty sea air and night. 

*** 

1710

Lahinch

The sun painted the sky with shades of coral, purple, and pretty orange. The waves kissed the shore, bringing with it a soft gust of breeze. A woman stirred as she awakened. Eyes of deep dark brown opened to let the light of daybreak enter in. With a tired groan, she resisted the wake a moment more before slowly sitting up, placing her feet flat onto the ground. Lifting fingers to scratch her scalp, she yawned. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she pulled herself out of bed and began her morning routine. Going outside, she drew up water from the well to wash and comb her hair. A quick horsehair brush to her teeth and tongue and she headed back inside the cottage to get dressed. Putting on her pair of boots, she tired a pocket or two to her first, next the first layer of the skirt. Grabbing a solid brown skirt, she tied it closed and smoothed down the fabric. Taking her sage green short stays, she slipped into them and began to lace them up from the front. Sighing, she began to braid her hair and left it to lay across a shoulder. Grabbing her hat and satchel, she set out for her day's work. 

*** 

Feet once bare now covered with leather walked alongside the never-ending dirt roads. His flesh was no longer naked, covered now in a billowing white shirt and brown breeches. Eyes fell across the horizon, at the endless blue and white sky and the call of the seagull. 

"Rian...you mustn't go yet." Turning eyes back onto the woman who'd supplied him what he had, he allowed her to touch and hug him. 

"Stay with me a little longer." Her fair cheeks grew warm and a soft pink and her eyes, blue gems of the sea glossed over with desire and want. He lifted his hands to caress her face. 

"I canna stay." Those beautiful baby blues started to tear up, the soft lush red strands soon gripped in his fingers. 

"I thank ye for all ye've done." As payment, he'd given her what she wanted most. The night was filled with sighs and moans of pleasure and when she awakened, milky breasts and soft pink nipples pressed against him, he thanked her once more as he kissed them, caressing them and taking them into his mouth. She welcomed him into her body once more, delighting in his insatiable hunger. 

"I'm lookin' for someone." In her eyes, he could see the loneliness that dwelled just beyond the surface. Alas, she was a young widowed lass, her husband lost at sea. She hadn't known a man's touch in so long. And at long last, the lips and hands of one seemed to breathe life back into her. 

"Thank you." He pressed a kiss against her lips, smiling against them. 

"May the wind and sea bring you a good man to fill your heart, body, and soul once more Laoise." Letting go of her, he began to walk away and along with the seagull, so her cries carried on the wind until they were no more. 

*** 

Sweat darkened the burlap shirt of the man and hair fell into his eyes. Lifting the hoe, he struck the earth forcefully...desperately. Two small children stood by the doorway, precious reddish-blond heads messy from sleep. She kept her gaze down as she passed him. His house and two others had remained. Everything else had turned to ash, flame eating away at lives, flesh, and dirt. This was the fourth attack this week. The Brits swept through the wildlands, ports, and towns, and in their wake, they left not a soul. Women were raped. Children hung. The heads of men hung on spikes, their mutilated genitals attached to twine and hung from the skull. 

Lifting her hood to cover her face, she continued on, throat heavy. These were times of despair and death. The eyes of those she passed cut into her and the whispers started. Though she kept her hood low, still the sun reflected on her skin. She gripped her satchel tighter.

"It's the cow woman..." 

"Has she left her pen to venture out?" Laughter taunted her and she breathed out through her nostrils. This was why she never enjoyed venturing out. Though she held a small garden on her lands, with the soil she could only grow so much. Seed was growing more and more expensive by the day and she needed to restock before winter. Fiddle and rowdy laughter met her as she entered into the small square and at her approach, some of the men and women backed out of her way, others appeared nervous and full of fear. 

Sounds of life, joy, and the stomp of the dance bled out into the day's air and it made her heart glad. 

"Witch." The lips and tongues of women hissed as she quietly passed, eyes narrowed like that of cats. 

"What are ye doin' here? Go back to where ye came!" She tried to ignore the hands that pushed her, eyes set on the seller of seed. An old man, he was one of the only ones who didn't completely shun her away.

"Stop it! Let the lass breathe!" At once they scattered, pulling back hands and lips to scowl. 

"Aoibhinn...you're early today." One of the sellers smiled, greeting her warmly. The eyes of the townspeople stabbed into her flesh and she met them with blank eyes. No matter how many times it happened, it seemed to leave an empty hole in her heart. The stares. The whispering lips. The words. The stones.

"I need seed Colm. Please." 

"Of course a chara. Need you potato for stew?" 

"Yes please." 

"Cabbages, onions, garlic, and parsnips...thyme and rosemary..." Colm went down the list out of familiarity and it brought a smile to her. 

"You're a proud Irish lass if I ever saw one." He teased with a wink. Cheeks soft pink, she graced him with another smile. 

"Will that be all?" 

"Aye." 

"Al'ri then. Let me pack it up for ye." As he left, she reached into her satchel and retrieved her currency. The few meager coin she had and a pearl encased in its shell.

"Aoibhinn." Turning, she looked up into a familiar face. Donnacha. He'd been sniffing at her skirts since she was but a tiny lass and thick in the head, he couldn't seem to understand proper Gaelic. 

"What do you want?" He uncrossed his arms and his mouth snarled up. Grabbing hold of her face, he yanked her neck up sharply. 

"Watch yer tone lass." Reaching up, he pulled the hood back, revealing her face in its entirety. Squeezing her cheeks, he leaned down some. 

"Why don't ye stop playing so hard to get and marry me? You know as well as I do no logical man would ever want ye as a wan." She didn't reply and the silence infuriated him. 

"Ye hear me talking to ye Aoibhinn."

"Ye beat the wan you 'ave. Misuse an' abuse 'er. Why would I damn meself to tha' fate?" Smirking, he shoved her face away from him. 

"Hard times we live in. Haven't ye heard? The fuckin Brits think to make us Protestants....bloody Christians..." He'd gathered the attention of the townspeople now and even Colm who had returned was now quiet and solemn. 

"They wan ye to forget the fathers of ye fathers." Taking hold of her hair, he pulled her flush against him. 

"I don't care if ye really are Cailleach in the flesh. I just need your faighin to work properly." Disgust flashed her features and he laughed, teeth just as brown as his hair. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear. 

"A good Irish lass knows how to make use of her mouth well. Long as ye take my shillelagh well between those thick lips of ye's we'll have a good time." Laughing, he licked his lips, a stench now resting on his shiny lips. 

"Think abou' it yeah? I won be waitin' all day." Colm waited until he staggered back into the alehouse to give her the neatly wrapped parcels. 

"Don pay 'em any mind Aoibhinn. Ther's plenty o' lads ye could have." Doing her best to smile, she had started to reach for the parcels when a rock was thrown, hitting her in the temple. She was quiet as a stream of blood began its descent down her cheek. Another rock hit her in the back of her head, yet another struck her outstretched hands. 

"Best hurry away lass." Colm's warning came late as rocks from all sides began to pummel her. Curses were thrown at her as she began to run away, feet carrying her as far away as they could. A man stood nearby the alehouse, sea-green eyes watching as the woman run until she disappeared over the hill. The hands of an unknown woman drifted across him, lips whispered and smiled against him. 

"The lassies say ye've quite the shillelagh. Mind if I take a peek under ye tartan?" Behind him, women giggled. 

"He's slender like a wan but between 'is legs e' all man." Turning those enchanting eyes towards the women, a teasing little grin graced his lips. 

"Peek all ye like. Ye'll like what ye find." Biting her lips, coquettish gazes and hands pulled him back inside. 

*** 

"Aoibhinn. My fair bonny lass." The voice of her mother soothed her as did her hands. 

"Mama, where's Athair?" 

"Gone at sea. Ye know he must work hard to return to us."

"He's been gone so long." Smooth brown arms pulled the small girl closer against her bosom. 

"My pretty girl." She praised, lifting hands to caress cheeks very different from her own. Though she carried her mother's sable coloring, it seemed as though the heavens struck her body with bolts of rage. Mismatched spots of bleached pure white skin marked her, taking nearly all of the earthy color from her face and ears save a few spots on her cheek and up by her hairline. Down below, her neck, shoulders, chest arms, and legs carried the same splotches. The other children in the village beat her, throwing sticks and stones. They cursed her and said she was full of pox. Cailleach's daughter. Her young doe brown eyes grew watery and self-loathing spread like fire across the cursed skin of her body. 

"Why must I look different than them? Why canna I look normal?" 

"You are a daughter of Áine of Knockaine. Born of the moon's rays, it is her light that gifts your very being." Rocking the child, her mother began to hum softly, pressing sweet kisses against her forehead. 

"Da will return. And we can live away from they that hurt ye. We can live as we once did." 

*** 

But Athair did not return. Many employed by the Crown had gone rogue and those with black skin sought freedom above deck. In chains, misery, and disease, men and women fought their captors and took over ships. That was how Athair had stumbled upon this land of vast beautiful green and gold, mountains and sea. It was here that he built a life for them, one in freedom. She'd never known chain, lash, or hand. In the Highlands, white and black-skinned people lived equally. What bonded them was not color but status. They all were poor and their bellies all knew the pain of starvation. Pressing her injured face against the thick wooden door, she let pain-filled tears fall down her cheeks. 

She hated that she cried... hated that she still allowed them the emotional energy. Lifting shaky fingers to her cheeks, she winced as her fingers touched open cuts and scrapes. Days like this made her miss her mother. On a night when the stars already appeared in the bluish-purple sky, the promise of the full moon had always excited her. She'd draw a bath and comb through her hair as she washed, welcoming any inquisitive questions natural of a child. There, her piercing sweet voice would travel along even the sea and it lulled her to sleep. Opening the door, she sat her satchel down and began to prepare the fire, eyes downcast...the blood on her temple now dry. 

Grabbing her bucket, she went out to the well to draw water. A bath would take away all the ache and pain. When the tub had been filled, she slowly unlaced her stays and folded them neatly by her bed. Reaching underneath her shift, she untied the garters and pulled small delicate feet out of the coarse wool stockings. Finally lifting the cotton nightdress up and over her head, she sighed at being freed. Fingers lifting, they began to take apart her braid. Quiet, she began to hum once more. Hair now free, she turned only to freeze. The eyes of a tall attractive man watched her, intense and piercing. He stood by the doorway, hand still on the wood. Turning away from him, she felt her cheeks grow warm. 

"Name yeself! Who are ye?" 

"I mean no harm to ye lass." He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else but yet he found himself silent as he unashamedly gazed upon her body. His downturned eyes were the color of seaweed-tinged seafoam and they drifted down her body slow and appreciatively. She found that she couldn't move under the weight of his stare and she couldn't explain the sudden moistness that rose in between her legs. What manner of witchery was this? He moved not and though she held her arms across her chest, the rest of her remained uncovered. She took him in the same as he. 

He stood tall, lithe. Hair dark in the low light but should the sun grace it, it would show a pretty reddish tinge. She could tell by the golden undertones. He was fair-skinned, had a handsome brow, perfectly shaped thick eyebrows. Narrowed Roman nose down to a defined button and nostrils. Interesting that the whole of it resembled the hourglass figure of a wan. A set of kissable lips painted pink like the very wine of love dwelled there. Boxy, masculine jaw and pronounced cheekbones. His quiet baritone filled the room suddenly, drawing her eyes away from his face. 

"I shall take me leave. I simply had to see if it was you."

"How do ye know of me?" 

"I knew ye father." Swallowing, she turned her gaze and looked up into his mysterious eyes. 

"What be ye, name stranger?" 

"My name is Rian. Yours?" His voice was soft and silky. 

"Aoibhinn." Smiling, he gave a nod, averting his gaze from her finally. 

"Forgive my intrusion." Turning on his heel, he left her as she once was. Heart beating wildly in her chest, she tried to still the shaky breaths that followed. Just who was that man? 

*** 

The water of the sea splashed against his feet and his eyes had turned upward towards the night sky. All around, millions of tiny little dots filled the black and some twinkled brightly. The cool night air rustled his hair and he closed his eyes, letting the chill kiss his neck. It was her. He'd found her. Letting air fill his lungs, he exhaled slowly, opening his eyes once again to look up at the sky. Girl of discolored patches, wild thick curly hair. Laughter like that of pure sun. 

He remembered her as a girl child. She preferred to hang on the legs of her Da and his massive hands would lift her onto his equally large shoulders. She'd lightly grip his wooly hair and he'd grin boyishly, a deep reverberating laugh shaking sea and ship. Aoibhinn. 

She was curious and bright. Wanting to play with the other children, he could see then the shadow that had already started to loom over the poor thing. Humans. They were perhaps the cruelest beings to exist. Humans had taught him everything he knew. Pain. Blood. Despair. Loneliness. Deep dark solitude and isolation. Fear. 

Rian. 

He'd never forget them. The dark-skinned people with warm smiles and warm eyes. Warm hands and warm laughter. How anyone could desire to use them, such good people of pure heart for chattel. It infuriated him then. It infuriated him now. Those who shared the same skin as he were made to be slaves. Women licked spilled ale off of dirty boots. Made to take dirty diseased shillelagh in their precious mouths, tongues meant to sing and hum now reduced to filth. Men blown apart by cannon. Cut in two by sword. Pierced by the hole of a bullet. The world he knew of so long ago was no more. That in and of itself broke his heart. 

Watch over my daughter. 

Through the ages, he had done it all. Enough to the point where it seemed to melt into one big blob of time and space. He'd fought. Bled. Ruled. Tasted death. Stained his hands with blood. Drank. Vomit. Fucked. Loved. Lost. Grieved. Been betrayed. Betrayed others. Wished for death. Wished for life. And all of it had led him here... to this humble Irish isle. The sea had brought him back here. He wondered...for what purpose? What was her wish? 

Protect my wife. 

Don't let them die. 

Those were the dying words of his greatest friend Radhi. The life faded away from his eyes and like that, he was gone. Radhi. He'd once told him the name meant forgiveness. Laying back against the sand, he inhaled the air deeply once more. How was he to forgive the very ones who took everything from him? How was he to forgive those had once who mocked, spit, and abused him. Them? Her? 

*** 

She was deep in the troughs cleaning them when she heard footsteps. Lifting her body, she froze. The man from last night. He wore a linen shirt, a deep v exposed some of his chest. The startling red and deep forest green tartan of Clare adorned his bottom half touching his knees. The rest of it he appropriately draped across his shoulder and back. On his head, a plain black tam covered his tresses. He looked every bit the Highlandman. Reaching down, she wiped her hands on her apron. 

"Did you fare well in the night?" She asked softly, leaning down to grab the empty bucket that needed filling. 

"Aye."

"Good then."

"I do apologize for scarin' ye last night." 

"Ye've already apologized."

"And ye accept?"

"I accepted the moment ye left." She answered quietly, brushing past him on her way to the well. He was near silent as he followed her, jaw tight. 

"Rian is it?"

"Aye." Attaching the bucket to the pulley, she began to lower it down. 

"Ye said ye knew my Athair. How did ye cross paths?" Her hair she'd left free this day, not a braid or band to contain the curly strands and they danced with the wind.

"Did your mother ever tell ye about what he did? Work I mean." 

"No. He was a man of the sea she would tell me." 

"Pirate. He was a pirate." Shock bled into her features and she turned to look at him. 

"Ye lie!"

"'tis not such a bad thing...bein' a pirate."

"They're criminals." 

"Some are. But ye da was not." Swallowing, she bit into the flesh of her bottom lip. 

"Ye Da was a hero. He was a good man." 

"Ye were fond of 'im were ye?" Eyes fell back to the lapping waves so close it was as if they could touch them.

"Radhi asked me to watch over ye." To that, she didn't answer, the rope and squeak of the wheel carrying oft into the winds. 

"How did he die?" She asked, voice so soft he could barely hear it. Tightening his jaw, he swallowed so hard it hurt. 

"My mother used to tell me stories in his absence...she used to tell me stories of creatures that walked the earth. Though they walked, the earth was not their home." Eyes fell back to the lapping waves. 

"Tales of handsome men who had fins now had legs whenever they so chose. Beautiful women would drift upon the surface of both sea and land." 

"Do you believe her?" He asked, turning those intense green eyes towards her. 

"I do." Lips smiled but he said nothing else, gaze leaving her. 

"There's a folktale that I too heard as a child." She was quiet as he continued, 

"The stars above in the night sky are the remnants of human souls. As vast and endless as the sky is, so many people have met their doom to the sea's waves. If they twinkle, that means that they will be gifted another life." 

"Another life?"

"I once twinkled. I too was once up in the big vast black." 

"And how were you granted a second life?" 

"I was given the chance to become one with the sea." She pondered what he could mean. 

"Some of us are lucky. Others are not. Some have a chance to live and breathe once more, take of life's pleasures. Others simply are content to be an everlasting light." She reached in and pulled up the bucket, now full of water. 

"Our ship was taken by cannon." Those beautiful eyes of his seemed to burn her as they bore into her very flesh. 

"Only a few of us could swim. I tried to save him." She accepted his answer with a nod. As she began to walk past him, he stopped her with an outstretched hand. Taking the bucket from her, their fingers brushed one another. Her cheeks grew pink but otherwise, nothing was said. They began the trek back down the road. 

"Did your mother ever tell you of the selkie folk?" 

"Selkie folk?"

"We are of the sea and yet not of her. We can exist by will wherever we please." 

"You speak as if you are one of them." Lips once again smiled. 

"The humans call us sea dogs. And so we are. Just as we touch the waves and sands below what you can see, so we can walk upon beaches." To her silence, he inhaled deeply. 

"I don't think ye would find it odd if I told ye how long I've lived. You, being cradled by the moon's kiss and energy, heart full of wonder and magic. I know ye'd believe me." 

"How long?" She asked and the tentative question made him laugh. Alas, the way of a curious girl child had never left her. 

"Seven hundred cycles of the sun." Her enchanting brown eyes widened, her pillowy lips parted. 

"I've always been an outcast and do not belong anywhere in particular. The longer I live, the more I consider it. Having a place with permanent roots. Swimming endlessly can over time grow so tiresome." Swallowing, she licked her lips and the walk back grew quiet once more.

***

1710 

August 

She watched him as he drew up water from the wall. He'd cast aside his shirt, baring the smooth pale flesh of his broad shoulders and back. She worried with how fair he was that he would burn from the sun's rays. Nevertheless, he kept working, his slender build deceiving to the eye. His hair had grown past his shoulders and he'd tied it up into a ponytail out of the way. Watching the defined muscles in his biceps work and strain, she lowered her gaze.

Five months had passed since their first meeting. He initially started to come early in the morning, well before she would wake. When her eyes opened to daybreak's light, she'd find him sitting at her table, eyes intently watching her. It unnerved her... to know that he could come and go as he saw fit... 

Some mornings, she'd find him out tending to the goats and sheep, even milking her heifer. She'd ask him why he seemed to gravitate here...to her humble little cottage. Surely, she reasoned, he had a wan with whom he could stay. He'd chuckle but always would leave that comment unanswered. Something about Rian was comforting...His presence as she saw more and more of it became like a warm blanket. 

But somehow she couldn't help but feel that he was just as dangerous. The hold he seemed to have on the female was more than seductive. It was magnetic. Though it had been five months since he'd happened by her humble little cottage, she'd seen enough of his interactions to know that women were just...drawn to him. She didn't voice any complaints. It wasn't her place to. Lifting those sleepy downturned eyes of his upward, their gazes locked. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she cleared her throat before closing the small shutters. She felt warm to the touch when he'd look at her and it bothered her. Never before had she spared a man a glance... until...until-

"Will ye go into town today?" Turning towards his voice, she tightened her grip on her hands. Sweat made his skin glossy, exertion having turned his cheeks and neck pink. Damn her eyes for they caught the outline of a very obvious male member turning the wool of the tartan upward. Taking a breath, she averted her gaze and spoke quietly. 

"Aye. I need some things at the market." 

"Very well." She expected him to leave but his footsteps grew closer until his big tall body loomed over her. Lifting fingers to her chin, he lifted her gaze. 

"Have ye fever?" Cheeks now reddened, she hastily licked her lips. 

"N-No. It's just warm today is all." Smiling, he let go of her chin. 

"'tis warm. Aye." Clearing her throat, she took a step back from him, creating distance. 

"I'll be ready in a few." Eyes watched as she all but ran outside. 

"Aye." 

***

Things were quiet between them as they entered the town square. Colm stood there just left of center and she walked up ahead of him. Eyes watched as they did dealings and the old man left to package her purchase. A large bear of a man grinned, stumbling out of the alehouse. 

"There you are. Where the fuck 'ave ye been wan?" Eyes narrowed on him as he approached her. 

"Aoibhinn! Look at me when I'm talkin to ye!" Grabbing her arm, he yanked her away from the table, making her spill her coin. 

"I've had enough of ye...I'm not waitin' anymor'." There in the square, he proceeded to sloppily untie his tartan. 

"Spread ye legs ye annoying little cow." She looked disgusted and began to turn as if to ignore him but he pulled her head back by her hair. 

"Ye want seed I give ye seed." He shoved her onto the ground. Heat traveled down his neck and his nostrils flared. Having taken hold of her arms, he had shoved them back into the dirt as a hand hastily tried to lift her skirts. She began to scream as she tried to fight the bigger man. It was a fight they all knew she would lose. Every eye watched the scene before them yet no one rushed to help her. Tightening his jaw so tight it hurt, he approached them. 

"Aye lad." He paused, turning intoxicated eyes upward. Grinning with those rotting teeth, he chuckled. 

"You want a go at her too? Wait ye fuckin' turn." Balling up his fists, he struck him in the jaw, hard enough that he fell off of her to the side. She laid there on the ground, visibly shaking. Her eyes full of tears, she stared up into nothingness. Colm dropped guilty eyes at his furious ones. Grabbing the items she purchased, he knelt to retrieve the coin and threw it on the table. Shoving the items into the deep pockets of his tartan, he knelt and lifted her into his arms. 

"Come sweet lass, let's go." She began to sniffle against him and soon pressed her neck against him as she cried. Tightening his grip on her, his gaze grew hard and cold. 

*** 

Rain battered the cottage soon, the drops hitting the ground with such force. She eyed the door picking at the skin above her nails. He'd been gone way too long. With the sea's tides rising with the heavy rain, it was dangerous to be out there. She swallowed thickly and lowered her face into the palms of her hands. She'd gone ahead and bathed and had a time ago prepared water for him. The water was no doubt cold as ice now, the pattern of the rain from the ceiling above sending tiny droplets to ricochet and ripple. Going to the door, she cast it open and started for the barn. Perhaps he sought refuge there. Wind and hair whipping wildly around her, she gasped as the hard pelts of rain stabbed into her flesh. 

"Rian!" Looking around frantically, she felt eyes mist with tears. 

"Rian!" She called, lifting hands to pull the barn door open. The wind was too strong and it nearly sent her into the mud. Hastily running back into the cottage, she shivered as she closed the door. Teeth chattering, she quickly lifted the soaked nightdress up and over her head. Letting it fall to the ground with a loud 'plop' she wrapped arms around herself. 

"Álainn." (beautiful) The softly spoken word made her freeze and she turned, eyes wide. 

"Rian....w-where were ye...I...I was worried about ye." Her heart beat up into her throat and at the faded shock, remembered that she was nude. Turning her back to him, she swallowed, shaky fingers reaching for her blanket, the desperate desire to cover her body hitting her deep in the belly. 

"Don't." Turning her gaze once more, she found him there by her kettle, the look in his eyes strange. 

"Beauty such as yours should not be covered." The way he looked at her made her press her thighs together, soft pants and bites to her lip. 

"It's....it's not proper." She gripped her sides, reaching once more for her blanket. Large warm hands stopped her, palms caressing her small shoulders. 

"Don't." He breathed against her neck, making her breath come faster. Slow gentle fingers drifted down her arms and soft lips kissed her neck. 

"Rian..." How breathy her voice was...with each touch and kiss she seemed to melt further and further into embers of flame. Hands now by her forearms, he adorned the flesh of her neck with one last kiss before pulling away. Body aflame with need, she turned to face him completely, closing her eyes as the palm of his hand gently cupped her cheek. She stayed still as his thumb drifted down to part her lips. His own pressed against her forehead, his other hand having brought her head closer. His breath was warm as he pressed his nose against her. Down her own. There across her cheek. She opened her eyes once more to find his looking down into hers so intensely. It was like the heat from the fire had found itself there in the heart of his eye and oh how it burned her. Her thoughts grew unclear as his lips touched hers. Tentative. Careful. 

 A slow breath teased her lips as he pulled back some and for some reason, the reality that he might leave again broke her heart. Reaching for his hand, she stopped him. It was clear that he wanted more than chaste kisses, the intense burning fire in his gaze scorching her. And yet... he hesitated. Swallowing, she lifted his palm to her cheek and leaned into it. The next breath he took was shaky and uneven, her face now pressing against the cold wet tartan on his shoulder. 

Lifting her hands, she gently tangled the heavy fabric in between her fingers and pulled until it fell to his waist. His hand brought her chin upward and the next meeting of their lips was more confident...sure. Her hands pulled the shirt up out of the tartan and their lips separated only to allow it to be lifted up and away from him. His hands slid around her waist and lifted her into his arms. Sighing softly against him, she let him walk them back towards her bed. Slowly, he lowered her down to lay, teeth and tongue eating away at her flesh. Licking the rain from her neck, he gently sucked on the skin, making her wrap her arms around him tighter. Biting her lips to shreds, she opened her eyes to look up at him.

He seemed larger than life kneeling above her, and what a beautiful beast was he. Skin milky and smooth, his stomach proved hard to the touch. Gently allowing fingers to dance across the taunt-defined muscle, she couldn't help the pure awe in her gaze. How was it that he be carved from marble? With a gentle smirk, he took his time unraveling the tartan about his hips, eyes feasting on her that lay below him the same. His tongue licked lips as he touched her with his gaze. The pillowy soft lips on her mouth. The slim throat. Delicate shoulders. Decorated in round and oval patches of cloud and rich auburn, her entire body proved to be a work of art, it was as if the gods themselves had taken fingers and hand painted her.

 What a beautiful paradox she proved to be where the whole of her breasts cloudy and fair, perfect little pink nipples erect and waiting for his mouth, there down but a nail's length striking sepia. The hair on her mound matched the thick lustrous curls on her head save a lone white streak down the middle. Drifting heated green-blue eyes upward to her dark mahogany, at last, he slipped the heavy water-soaked wool from around his hips and let it fall slosh to the ground. 

Her eyes grew wide as they dipped below his waist. Dear Áine. His shillelagh protruded from his hips proudly, the long sinewy rod jerking upward suddenly under her attention. Meaty engorged veins adorned the whole of him and the flared mushroom head the prettiest color of blush she'd ever seen. Speechless, her stomach twisted nervously as he untied his hair, the satiny strands cascading around his face. Leaning forward, he brought her gaze upward. 

"Ná bíodh eagla ort." (Don't be afraid) He whispered taking her mouth in a kiss. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to taste her, his hands drifting down to gently caress her breasts. Gently squeezing, she arched her back as his lips soon joined his hands, kissing the smooth white flesh. Soon, his slick wet tongue nudged one of her nipples with a lick or two and a soft moan escaped her mouth at the assault. The other bud received the same treatment before his shapely lips enclosed around them, gently sucking each.

She sighed quietly, the sounds escaping her mouth unfamiliar and unnerving. Breathing against her, he pressed the buxom mounds together, lapping at the conjoined buds. Arching her back, she let out a much louder moan, pressing them against his mouth with a deeper arch of her back. Down below, she squeezed her thighs together, a wet dew growing in between her legs. 

Playing enough, he let his nose and lips trail down her breastbone, pressing soft little kisses here and there. An arm wrapped around her, a single hand drifting up to the small of her back. The action caused her to lay at his side. Hair messily fell into his eyes and yet they moved not from her. Not as she lifted a hand to fully press him back against her bed. Not even as she bravely lifted to straddle him. Urging the strands away from his passionate gaze, she leaned down to press a soft kiss against his mouth. 

Hands slipped down her back and across the round cheeks of her backside. Gripping the flesh in his palms, he nibbled her bottom lip for a moment, enjoying the way her tongue seemed to shyly chase his. His hands fell away from her as she lifted, a small leg next as to get off of him. Pulling her back towards him, her gasp of surprise filled the space and her eyes turned to meet his. Her cheeks flushed even redder, her back now facing his front. 

"Rian..." He let his fingers dance up and across her back and she took a deep breath before sitting more comfortably, her hands lifting to pull her hair away and to the side. Biting her lips, she smiled as his hands fell to her hips and further to the cheeks of her derriere. A single hum of approval sounded behind her and she glanced back at him. 

"Lean forward just a tad mo ghrá." (my love) Feeling the heat of embarrassment stab into her, she did as he bade, slowly leaning forward just a tad. Her breath was uneven as his hands spread her cheeks down below, allowing the whole of her sex to be exposed. A groan left his throat at the sight of her glistening little hole and he licked his lips. A small tug on her hips and she slowly inched her way back towards his awaiting mouth. Good girl. Let me taste you. Pulling her to sit, her body jolted at the lick of his tongue against her entrance. 

"Oh!"Gripping his hands on her hips, she licked her lips as he kissed her folds. 

"Mm..." Soft wet sucking filled the cottage and her head fell back just as his tongue slipped into her. Digging her nails into his skin, she panted as he thrust slowly, lips closing around her as if to trap her. Letting another moan escape her throat, she couldn't help the way her hips moved, slowly rocking against him. His hands began to leave her hips in search of skin, hers there atop his. A low groan vibrated against her and her eyes rolled back, feeling a sudden burning heat in her belly. Taking hold of her breasts, his mouth below continued its feast and before she could stop it, loud open moans sweetly drifted into the air. Rocking back against him, the burn threatened to consume her and she tried to fight it... scared of its intense fiery heat.

He hummed underneath her and gave a sharp pinch to her nipples, forcing her to let it eat her alive. She climaxed with a loud cry, nails once more digging into the flesh of his wrists. The rocking stopped and for a moment he didn't withdraw his tongue, enjoying the throbbing of her inner channel. She panted above him, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as he lifted her away from his face. Leaning up into a slight sit, he wrapped arms around her and pulled her down to lay beside him. Glossy eyes took in the mess she'd made on his face and leaned up to lick his chin. 

"Tá tú chomh álainn..." (you're so beautiful) He breathed against her mouth, smirking gently as her hands slipped down his body. Their lips met wetly as her hand took hold of his rod. Her fingers curiously touched him and he couldn't resist a smile as his hand slipped down to intertwine with hers. Slowly, they began to stroke him, making his brow crease. A breathy open-mouthed moan fanned against her cheek. She enjoyed how pleasure made him look, cheeks, neck, and ears an angry red. 

The lips of his mouth were bruised from their kisses and his throat quivered with alluring groans..musical to the ear. A soft thwack rose between them and he grunted, bringing their hands to an abrupt pause. Kissing her intensely, he slid fingers underneath her knee and lifted her leg. Tongues playing, he pulled her closer to him the action forcing their lips apart. Pressing his forehead against hers, he aligned himself with her opening. He slowly penetrated her with a gentle plunge, eyes watching as her breath came light and shallow. Letting her thigh rest in his arm, he hugged her nice and close. 

"Breathe a ghrá mo chroí..." (my heart's beloved or the love of my heart) He whispered against her lips. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, opening up her chest cavity for more air.

"Good lass..." Slowly thrusting into her, he took in the slight scrunch of her brow and bewitching moan as he managed to slide deeper than before, not stopping until he was as far in as he could go. She sobbed as he stayed still, hands gripping arms. 

"Rian...." Tightening his hold on her, he thrust once...hard. Taking her breath, he did it again. Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, his hips began to pump into her sharp and feverishly. Her moans now nearly screamed, a loud wet thwop stirring between them. Their moans conjoined as they kissed one another, tongues deep and teeth mashed. She squeezed him so tightly as her climax hit her, falling apart as he slipped fingers in between her legs to tease and play with her clitoris. Moaning against her, he tore his mouth from her, breath laborious as the flame of climax choked him. Forceful spurts of his lifeblood spilled within her and the two of them grew still. 

*** 

Daybreak streamed in through the open shutters, casting its light upon two bodies entangled under blankets. 

*** 

Large brown eyes looked up at him. Full pink lips parted and the prettiest little tongue slipped out of her mouth, waiting, asking, hungry. She knelt patiently below him, her arms having pushed up her generous plump breasts, nipples hard and aching. Gently lifting her chin, slowly, he brought her meal to her, eyes rolling back as her tongue darted out for a taste. 

*** 

A white hand curled up against the man's muscular chest, breath deep and full of slumber. 

***

Moans of ecstasy drifted from the window and up into the night. Fingers tightened underneath her and a face pressed into the furs, already fragrant with the scent of their lovemaking. Up above her, large hands gripped the cheeks of her derriere as he brought it to smack against his hips. Letting fingers branch out to grab hold of his knees, she bit the fur as he slowed her, his brogue now rough and harsh as she slowly lifted up and down his shaft. 

"Mm....my bonny lass...mothaíonn tú chomh maith sin mé..." (You make me feel so good)

*** 

The crash of the waves against shore awakened her and she groaned softly, eyes slow to open. Nuzzling the soft skin underneath her finally her eyes opened to meet the day. Lifting her eyes upward, her cheeks grew warm at the sight of the gorgeous man sleeping above her. The sun teased the red in his hair and it shone prettily in a reddish-gold shine. Lips, deep red and bruised parted, deep content air tickling her forearm. 

Smiling, she lifted a gentle finger and ran it across his bottom lip. Letting the palm of her hand press flat against a pectoral, she snuggled up flush, smiling as she felt his arm move, fingers lazily brushing her back and shoulder. A soft deep groan rumbled against her and hazy green orbs opened blinking before drifting down to settle on her. His hand dropped onto the furs and slipped down to grab a cheek of her derriere. Lifting her chin, she pressed soft little kisses against his neck and his lips smiled, revealing a tired yet satisfied smirk. 

"Mo fhíorghra," (my true love) She said against him, voice full of breath. 

"Aye, Mo shíorghra?" (yes, my eternal love/soulmate?) She chose not to reply, instead, laid against his chest once more, closing her eyes to the sound of the sheep, pigs, and goats as they too began to rise to the sun's rays. His lips kissed her forehead and soon his hand gripped her chin, forcing her lips up to his awaiting ones. Soon, they would leave the bed containing their passion and begin the long day ahead. Of everything, she vowed one thing: his seal skin would always be safe with her and so would his heart. 

 

 

fin. 

 

End Notes:

 

A/N: WHEW. HELLO! HEY Y'ALL! LONG TIME NO SEE. WHEW. My pharmacy tech schooling is going great! It's been very time consuming so you guys know I've been creating to relieve the stress hehe. These are one-shots that I challenged myself to write. How have you guys been? hehe. *sigh*

I honestly fell in love with Rian and Aoibhinn. *sobbing* they are so beautiful and pure man. I really wanted to go like more in depth with them but the challenge was to keep it a one shot. To be honest, I planned to have Rian wait for Donnacha outside the pub and beat his tail. Like beat him within an inch of his life lol. But, I decided to leave that untouched and shrouded in mystery. I wanted you, the reader, to say :Did he ever go back and do something about the villagers? Donnacha?

I'm not used to writing one-shots so please forgive me if it seemed really rushed.

 Okay so most of the Irish Gaelic translations I have in story but some I don't so I'll translate here hehe. 

 

Thank you so so much for reading and I'll see you soon hehe.

-D&L

P.S- On a side note, when I say I've been creating I mean I have been creating. I made a short trailer for my characters Ichiro and Bea from Bride of War as well as wrote some snippets for that story as well. I will be uploading those once I'm done here. hehe. I have started to draft another chapter also of Yeonwang too! (can you tell I been stressed LOL) *xoxo* love you guys! hehe. I thank you all for continuing to support me~

 

TRANSLATIONS:

bonny-beautiful, pretty 

lass-girl

wan-woman 

a chara- my friend 

Cailleach- is the goddess of winter, storms, and I read even illness and disease.  

faighin- the female genitalia 

shillelagh- old Irish word for a male member 

tartan- aka kilt 

* in my research, I found that like a coat of arms, different color kilts identified which family/region/city you were from. Clare county is where the city  Lahinch is located in modern day Ireland. 

Athair- gaelic for father. 'Da' also means dad or father 

 Áine of Knockaine- Irish goddess of summer, wealth, youth and beauty. 

Aoibhinn- means of radiant beauty. pronounced (ee-ven) or (ee-van) 

Rian- means king. pronounced (ree-ahn) 

 

some aesthetic pictures shall we? (I went all out so y'all getting these pictures LOL) 

Aoibhinn:

 

 

Rian: 

 

BONUS: 

When I saw this gif of Timothee, I said BRUH. That's Rian's bedroom eyes LOL. I'm like kinda already thinking to use him as a visual for another work later on. LOL. Thank you for reading!

This story archived at http://https://www.valentchamber.com/viewstory.php?sid=3943