I don't know WHY this ref took me so incredibly long but I'm glad it's finally done. Not a huge change or anything, I just wanted to make an outfit design for him that maintained the same sort of silhouette and motifs while being a little more thought out and specific to his character.
Separate versions for "Adric" and Actual Adric to just make things more confusing probably.
Warnings: Abduction, manipulation, threats of harm to family members
Pronunciation guide down below!
They had heard many a tales about the Good Neighbors. Inhabitants of the Otherworld, hanging onto old hills and Rathforts. Existing just beyond their world and sight.
The old powerful Witchery and Druidry dug deep into Ireland's roots had faded into an odd obscurity. Sure, you could find people who still practiced, or hear tales of old wise women like Biddy Early, but it wasn't common. Most people scoffed at the idea of fairies or magic, but a few old traditions had stuck around.
Few would admit it, but respect of the fairies, the sidhe, was still hanging overhead. Fairy trees were often still paved around, and treated with their due respect. Cutting one down would be inviting their ire and loads of bad luck.
They would never forget when their grandmother snatched their wrist up fast as lightning. Chiding them for almost touching what didn't belong to them. They didn't understand why a dirty old metal comb lying in a path was such a big deal. Their grandmother held them close, an unknown fervor in her eyes as she explained that the comb belonged to the Bean Sidhe. A Good Neighbor who would wail and keen at night to warn of family members of impending deaths. A good natured lady they often were, they were not to be messed with.
"Those who take the comb of the Bean Sidhe shall face death! Those who don't, end up with a broken limb." Granny said with a shake of her head. They didn't get to hear much further, as their mother had swept them up with a terse and final,
"You're going to scare them with these stories of yours!"
And that was that. Their thoughts of the Kindly Neighbors drifted into the back of their mind. Only being stirred when their grandmother would share stories of offering fresh butter and milk, in return of good will and relationship. They didn't quite believe their nan, but liked to hear the warmth and passion in her shaky voice.
She always encouraged their art and poetry, citing bards and legendary satires of the past. She'd listen with rapt attention as they recounted their poetry and read to her.
Their nan was not long for this world now, with her health declining. Their mother, strong that she was, could only help so much, so they stepped up. They kept up nan's housekeeping and would even make sure to leave offerings at dusk of a small tin of freshly opened milk. Why it had to be freshly opened, was a mystery.
"Na bhrist tu riomh na neamhreireact" gran would say sometimes, in reference to the Good Folk. "To neither bow before them or be disrespectful." It was surprising, how determined she was in her old age to keep up such an old tradition.
One dusk, they had been careless. Sure, they had the new milk set aside for the tin. They had every intention on following the rules, but they left the milk out and the old neighbor cat had knocked it down and was found lapping it up.
With a groan, the cat was shooed out of the house and the milk was picked up. Not a lot had spilled, only a third. They sighed and in their tiredness, forgot the most important rule. They poured a good amount into the tin and set it outside in the usual spot. They even muttered a "For you and yours" and headed back towards the house.
It was then, they felt it. A horrible shiver went up their back and their skull erupted into fiery sparks of pain. A low chuckle sounded from behind them. "Someone didn't follow the rules.."
Whirling around, there was no one in sight. The milk tin was tipped over, spilling its contents onto the earth. The pain in their head faded into soft pangs. They hurried inside, slamming the door behind them.
Bad luck followed them and their nan's house the following week. All the milk spoiled and the chickens produced no eggs. Electricity short circuited and precious items broke. Their nan, bless her soul, told them not to blame themselves. She urged them to make it right by giving three times the original offering. To leave it in the same spot and hope their luck turns.
Not able to brush it aside any longer, they did as instructed. They fastened an iron pick to their clothes at nan's instruction. "Lest they try to steal you away" she had said in a fit of throaty coughs.
They stood at their property and held their nan close to their heart. "Please accept my offering as paying you back what I originally owed you." Their voice was shaky, but as firm as they could muster.
The wind was low and seemed to dance around in the grass and trees. It circled them with a decisiveness they had never seen.
"Do you think this is enough?" that voice came again, wrapped in spiders silk.
"I meant no harm. I'm only doing this for my nan! Surely, she's served you well enough over the years you can forgive my mistake." They held their hands up in surrender.
A figure formed in front of them at that moment. A tall, but not inhumanely tall man stood in front of them. His features were human, and he had no otherworldly traits hidden in his form... But they felt it. An air of something ancient and far more powerful than them. It swirled around him and emanated proudly, as if he wanted to show them all he possessed. He sprouted a wry smile, curly brown hair falling messily around his face.
"Now then, your nan may have plenty of my good will." He waved his hand in a circle. "You, however," he gestured with a point. "Have no such relationship with me. You can't hide behind someone else's work. You spent your whole life dismissing us, ya know. Such pride and disrespect you show with your carelessness. That can't be dismissed or forgiven easily."
He began to walk in a slow circle around them. "I've actually been quite kind, as a courtesy to your nan. I haven't even killed any of your ailing family members."
They hardened their gaze and rounded on him with a fury. "Don't you dare!"
His eyes widened and a soft laugh escaped him. "You were always a firecracker. Hold your tongue now, dear human. I haven't killed anyone but that is well within my rights and power. Why, your poor nan is already close to the brink.."
He reached out a lone hand to lay gently upon their hair. He stroked with a soft feathery touch. He lowered his hand in an attempt to grasp their shoulder, but drew back in alarm.
"Hm. Interesting pin for someone wanting to build a friendship." He chided, gesturing to their iron pick. They held it tightly to their chest.
"I was taught to respect you, not to trust you." They shot back, trying to smooth their anger.
"Yet you failed at doing just that." He clucked his tongue and clapped his hand together in thought.
"Oh! I know!" he says far too quickly for any real thinking to have been done. "To tell you the truth, I've taken an interest in you, since you started helping your dear old gran." He sighed softly.
"I'm sure you've heard stories of poets being snatched away by our lot." They shook their head in response. He frowned.
"Well, as you should have heard.... Several of us are big fans of poetry. Me included. I admire those who are quick with their tongues and minds. Generations of great Irish poets and bards have died out but there's still some of you who can spin a tale." He fiddled with his jacket, a surprisingly modern piece of garment for someone so ancient.
"I guess you could say, I'm quite fond of you." He looked up with a wolfish grin, flashing sharp, red stained teeth.
"What? Then why make my life a living hell? Why not accept my offering!?"
He quirked his head to the side, a malicious gleam in his eyes. "Why, cuz I wanted to have some fun with you! You're quite amusing when angry you know! Like a little baby cow struggling to find their legs! You would have never come to acknowledge me willingly unless I messed with ya!" He laughed sharp and loud. "Your mistake gave me the perfect excuse to get what I want."
They backed away a few steps, feeling slightly faint. "So what do you want? A poem? To hang out?"
"Hmmm" he hummed a soft, lyrical note. "Not quite. See, I'll give your family no more bad luck. I won't kill any ailing relatives..I'll even be nice and throw in years worth of good luck. Give your old nan a few good years." he closed the gap between them, just barely kept at bay by a few inches. "If, you come with me." He extended a lone hand.
"Come with you? Where?" they echoed softly. This all sounded too good to be true.
"To my home. Become mine. Regale me with your beauty and poetry every day. I'm a very giving lover you know. I've yet to keep a partner wanting." he attempted to grab their hands, but drew his hand back with a groan. "As soon as you get rid of that pin I can make it happen."
They stumbled backwards hastily. "What? I don't even know you! You've done nothing but harass me!"
His kind expression slipped off his handsome features. A deep anger settled in as solid and hot has freshly forged steel. Fear prickled at their very core.
"Harass you? No. Who do you think kept your cow producing milk, who do you think kept your nans health in such good spirits?" he advanced, seeming to grow in size. Towering over them menacingly bubbling with madness and cruelty.
"Who do you think helped inspire your poetry when you sat so prettily on the edge of your property. Who do you think watched over you and warded off all those who would have treated you much less kindly? You repeatedly spit on my good will and I think you'll be smart to show me my much earned respect. All you have to do, is take off that pin and let me reap my reward for my patience."
Staring into the eyes of insanity itself, they thought of their nan. Always giving so much and asking so little in return. Treating them with kindness. They thought of their mom and all the sacrifices she made to help them grow.
"You'll help them? My family..My nan will live?" They asked in a whisper. Its not like rejecting would bring any good. They've seen what he could do when he was apparently being "soft" on them.
He blinked and stilled in his anger. A different fervor took to his eyes, a desperation. "Yes. I'm a man of my word. You'll know no pain and you'll have to pay no silly human rent. Your only role is to follow me and become my wedded partner. It's a simple trade, if you think about it."
They took a deep breath and looked at the ground. "Okay.." came barely from their lips. With shaking fingers, they unclasped the iron clip and threw it to the floor. It clattered without a sound on the soft dirt at their feet. Mocking them and their choice that could no longer be reversed.
"Perfect..." He practically purred as tight arms wrapped around their waist. Constricting, and all consuming. "Now, hold on tight little dove and leave everything to me." Was the last words echoed on that farm before they were swept up and taken away with the wind. Never to be seen by a human again.
Pronunciation guide!: Sidhe(Shee), Bean Sidhe (Ban shee), Na bhrist tu riomh na neamhreireact (Nah, Brist, too, ree-ogh, na, nay-ve-reah-reoct)
An: I'm not from Ireland but have been studying Irish Paganism and specifically the Good Neighbors. Sorry if some of my info is off! I was inspired by the many tales of humans being snatched up by the sidhe.
Thank you to Lora O'brien for pronunciations, terms, and more. Also thank you to teannglann.ie for further pronunciation help! Please don't take my fiction as real advice for dealing with the sidhe. Always do your own research! Thank you!
