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wow. it snowed. a lot. + Murchadh
Why does this make me want to write about Murchadh? xD
Snow always inspires me to write the story he was in, even though it took place primarily around Midsummer, which is like in June (I think? I haven't written this thing in forever).
But Murchadh, since he's a cold-water-dweller, always makes me think of icy Nordic waters and you know... snow. And icebergs and stuff.
Hey, have a scene. It's from the story he was originally part of that died, but I like this little thing. Since it's just a little tidbit some things might not make sense, I'm sorry. I'd post the whole thing but it was like fifty pages and wasn't even finished... so. I'll answer any questions.
My favorite quote of his, by the way: "I like your bed. Can I have it?"
Anyway.
Just so you guys know (and this is all according to Scottish / Irish lore: )
Selkie: a merperson-type creature. they wear the skins of seals while in the water but shed them and walk on land as humans. usually female, but Jade is male. there obviously HAVE to be male selkies or there would be no selkies at all. duh, folklore. come on.
Merrow: merperson, basically. the males are supposed to be fat, hairy and ugly, with red noses and a bottle of scotch always at hand, but Murchadh is not ugly. Nor is Enki, or Hearn, or any other of the brothers. His explanation: "It's like with humans. Some are pretty, some are not." (that is not according to lore xD but i thought it was stupid that lore described the women as so gorgeous and the men as hideous.)
Grogoch: a supposedly half-faerie, half-human creature. they're primative; two foot tall, hairy, almost like cavemen. they chill in kitchens and clean obsessively.
Dullahan: the so-called "headless horseman", or one version of him. he's a harbinger of death (and is actually not headless, entirely; he keeps his head in his saddlebag), but in my story he's also a messenger for the faerie royalty and carts messages around.
Domnu: the evil sister of Danu. they were two goddesses at the beginning of the world, according to celtic mythology. their respective children warred over possession of ireland; Danu's chilren won, naturally. good tends to prevail.
Even though Murchadh is for all intensive purposes "neutral", he prefers Domnu.
A creature of luxury, being called to the woods to check on the Sleeper was not ideal to Murchadh. Not now, when he had Harper’s bed to himself.
But, he figured, the human would be back from work soon anyway. Sad as the loss was, he wasn’t too devastated.
His brothers had sent Jade and Enki to fetch him- a smart move. Certainly, it had been Tyrone to think of it, being that he was the most skilled tactician among them. When faced with his youngest kinsman and the prince of the selkies, he found he simply couldn’t muster much anger.
“Okay, ‘m up,” he insisted, yanking his hands away from the two creatures determined to wake him. While Enki went on to begin his explanation, Murchadh stripped a string of pearls from his hair, knotted the end and cast it to the bedside table.
“Dullahan brought us a letter. Guess who wrote it.”
“Mmph.” Murchadh collapsed back onto the bed. In response, Jade scrabbled for his forearm. “Domnu.”
The selkie huffed and finally got him vertical. He moved to the closet.
Enki rolled his eyes. “No, your other favorite.”
He would’ve said Harper; considered it, then realized that it was unlikely that Harper even knew of the Dark Man, the headless equestrian, aside from what was told in mortal ghost stories. This left one other choice, which meant that Enki was being sarcastic, which made him giggle. “Oh. Him.”
“Yeah. Prince Conri. He asked us to kick the security around the Sleeper’s lake up a notch, and for you personally to patrol the area each night, until everything settles down in Faerie.”
“Every night. Dunno if I can do that. My schedule is horribly full, you know.” While he groused sleepily, Jade made a jerking motion with his delicate jaw; Murchadh raised his arms above his head and, passive, allowed the selkie to tug a blue t-shirt onto him.
“Full of what?” Enki asked. Sarcasm didn’t suit his sweet face. “Robbing a mortal of his bed and his coffee? Don’t be stupid, Murchadh. You know how the Unseelie Court is.”
“I do.”
“We have to reply to the letter. What exactly do you plan to say?”
“Um. Yes.” Jade attacked him with boxers and loose khaki shorts while he elaborated. “I mean, what else is there to say to the man? Tell Hearn to draw it out and make it prettier than just that.”
“Alright.”
“And then, I want to read it. When he’s finished.”
“Murchadh. You don’t read.”
“Oh. True.”
Jade assessed the prince, nodded, and hurried to dress himself.
Enki made no move to. Murchadh hadn’t assumed he’d be accompanying them, anyhow. He didn’t like their agreement with the Unseelie Court- hated the forest where Oilleóg was hidden for the creatures which dwelt there. He wouldn’t be accompanying them.
The selkie made a happy noise upon discovering some outfit which pleased him. Enki was not nearly as easily distracted from the target. “Smokewood Forest,” he said, “is something of a trek from here. How do you plan to get over there?”
Manic, the prince beamed. He had a plan of action. Really.
Flopping back into Harper’s bed, dressed now, he pulled the covers up over his head. “By waiting for Harper, of course. He has a car. He’ll drive me wherever I want. I really have made his bed quite uncomfortable. I’ve never lain in a wet bed while fully clothed before.” He squirmed.
There was a sigh from outside his cocoon. Decidedly very tired and unwilling to go through with this stupidity, he yawned.
“Jade,” Enki instructed, sounding years older than he was, “keep track of him, alright? Make sure he doesn’t cause too much trouble. I’m going home.”
A crooning noise from the closet; footsteps, those of bare feet which slapped themselves against the wood floor. A splash.
Murchadh napped. It wasn’t like Jade was going to stop him, anyway, and he’d know if Harper came home. The human would surely have to wake him—he wouldn’t sleep with a merrow in his bed. The man was too smart to do that.
Well. He hadn’t counted on Harper’s being a bartender keeping him out of his home later than most would. As far as Murchadh had been previously concerned, all humans had nine-to-fives. This is what Hearn had told him. He’d have to correct him on that.
They were always learning new things about the Surface Worlders. This was just one more for the record.
Harper did, eventually, return to his house barge, though at a time closer to one than to five.
Well. He might’ve returned earlier, but time only began to Murchadh on his personal clock, and he hadn’t woken until about twelve thirty. At twelve fifty, he levered himself out of the bed, careful not to wake Jade who’d fallen into his own sleep at the foot of it, and had gone into the kitchen to find his favored human seated at the table of the galley.
He looked sleepy himself, but the prince’s chauffer had work to do.
Before Murchadh could speak, Harper did.
“So I’m guessing you’re up to something,” the beloved mortal grumbled. “I come home expecting to be able to collapse into my nice warm bed and find two soggy faeries in it. Something you desire, Murchadh?”
Murchadh grinned. “Coff-EE. And a ride to Smokewood Forest. You know where that is, don’t you?”
“Mhm. Me, Rob, Killian and Murphy all used to play in it. I grew up here, you know.”
“I know. You were always a water baby. I remember some things.”
Harper blinked.
“I don’t remember much,” he said. “I remember finding pretty shells and leaving them where I was sure you’d find them. You always looked so happy when you did.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Murchadh laughed. “I’m sure you’ve read it. It’s traditional for faeries to leave trinkets for the mortals they’re fond of.”
“Once. And then they leave.”
“I’m only a traditionalist in the respects I choose to be a traditionalist in.”
Harper rolled his eyes, but smiled a bit. “So what do you need to be going to Smokewood for at this time of… morning? Come on. If I let you have my bed will you just go back to sleep and leave me to my couch?”
Murchadh leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “Mm,” he murmured, “it’s tempting. But I have important business to take care of. Understand?”
“Not really.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” Murchadh scooted over to the cookie jar he’d seen Harper drop his keys into more than once. He removed the lid gingerly, set it on the edge of the sink and began to rummage. “I’d prefer it if you weren’t being dragged into my messes, but I have no other way of getting myself there. Stay in your car- I don’t advise that you fall asleep, even for a minute.”
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing that concerns you. So long as you stay away.”
At that, one of the pixies flew out of the cookie jar and directly into Murchadh’s face. He took a step back, his arms held up as if in surrender.
“I know what you’re doing, you terrible sea monster,” it snapped. Oh, yay. The only one with speech. Murchadh was a lucky b*****d. “If you drag our Harper into danger, we will ruin you.”
“I could instruct the grogoch to eat you, you know. He’d surely enjoy it.”
Murchadh saw Harper’s reflection in the window above the sink. The human was staring with wide, owlish eyes, not choosing sides, for which the prince was grateful.
“Out of curiosity,” he asked, “what is he up to, Aria?”
Murchadh glowered at the tiny creature, which was looking quite smug. “You little androgynous freak, if you say anything I swear I will smite you as one would smite a fly with a swatter.”
“There’s something in the woods he doesn’t want you to see.”
“Oh, you wretched-”
“Something very important.”
And Murchadh lived up to his threat. He always did, unless his conditions were satisfied.
Raising one hand elegantly, and with no more than a blink for a reaction, he smashed the tiny creature against the window with his palm.
It erupted in a shower of blue dust which glinted in the light of the kitchen.
When he faced Harper, the human’s nose was wrinkled as if in disgust. “Am I dreaming this? Did you seriously just…?”
“It’ll be fine. Those awful little beasts don’t die easily. Just have the grogoch collect the dust and the gem left over in a jar. You’ll have an ankle-biting lightning bug, fully formed, by the dawn. I wouldn’t have done it if the damage was permanent- it was just therapeutic, you see. Your creature will be fine.”
Upon hearing these words the grogoch burst from the cabinet beneath the sink, dragging his stool with him. Once he stood so that he could reach the counter, he, with a dustpan, went about sweeping up Aria’s remains. When he came to the aforementioned gem, he lifted it gingerly between his grubby fingers and dumped it in a jelly jar along with the fine powder.
“That’s- that’s not even the point, Murchadh. Aria and the other sprites are such sweet things- such innocent-”
“You really buy their act, don’t you?” The prince went back to his original mission, and came away from it successful, dangling the keys by their shark tooth keychain. “Many have, throughout history. They all learn.” He nodded towards the door, simultaneously lobbing the keys at Harper’s head. Flailing, the human snatched them from the air before they could hit and damage his face. “Turn on the car? I’ll be out shortly with Jade.”
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