It’s the best day of the entire Christmas season, in Ultana’s book, though
she’ll never say that out loud. Hugh’s busy taking his parents out to lunch.
His father wants to talk politics, and Hugh’s made it clear she wasn’t
invited, and that’s just fine by her. She packs a bag, tells Erinea to get
her coat, and has Nathaniel drive them to Rory’s.
It’s about 1PM by the time they arrive. They let themselves in; both Erinea
and Ultana have their own keys. The small apartment’s warm, and it smells
like sugar cookies, and Blue already comes trotting over to say hello.
She takes a moment to ruffle Blue’s ears, and then hands the dog-petting
over to Erinea and calls:
The question has been forming in the back of her mind ever since
she and Sinead had spoken over tea that afternoon. She was
supposed to be out getting her nails done and she had been, but
Hugh didn’t actually know how long a manicure took, and so she
used to opportunity to do a lot of things without him knowing. Things
like meeting Rory.
They were at a park, Blue running circles around her legs. She’s
brought a series of papers so if the media shows up and asks,
she’s discussing political deals in proxy for Hugh-- something that
happens more often than most people think.
They’d been walking in silence, mostly, and then Ultana looks up
at him and asks: “What do you think about Gilead?”
They’ve been married a fortnight, and Ultana’s
never been happier just to exist. They’ve spent
the better part of their time falling all over each
other and kissing each other because they can.
And every night she lies curled up to his frame,
quiet and at peace.
He hasn’t asked to consumate the marriage,
and for that, she’s grateful. A part of her’s
frightened– the part that Hugh’s made
mistrustful– she’s frightened that everything
she knows of Rory– of his kindness and
gentleness– is only a front for a wolfish interior.
It’s happened to her before, and though logic
tells her she’s insane for thinking the worst of
him, her heart won’t let her TRUST.
The night’s quiet and dark. The fire crackles in
the huge hearth just a few feet away from their
bed and Ultana’s curled beneath the furs, tracing
patterns in Rory’s battle scars. She means to
broach the question– to at least bring it up and
out into the air and stop this insufferable waiting.
Nobody had announced them when Rory’s parents had
gotten to the Christmas party. But Ultana had spotted Enya
and said hello-- and if Enya was there, that meant that she’d
dragged Turlough along as well. She found him in the little
nook by the tree, in the easy chair that she’d set out. And
Ultana came with a cup of hot coffee. The older man didn’t
drink.
She leaned against the wall, holding the mug cupped in her
hands and observed what book he was reading, first. 1984.
Ultana smiles, then asks a simple yes or no question.
Tomorrow she began her new life. Tomorrow
her world would change. And Kadja wanted to
enjoy her last few hours of being nothing more
than a cleaning slave by joining Echo on a trip
to House Tyrconnell. She had little doubt that
slipping away would prove much harder a feat
when Eldina Ultana O’Neill herself was aware
of her presence.
While Echo was off discussing Moire Oxan
refugees with Eldarin Turlough, Kadja asked
around until she managed to locate Eldarin
Rory. Since age six she’d been joining Echo
on secret trips to the estate, and in as much
as they outranked her, the members of House
Tyrconnell were almost like family.
She found him past the Eye of Donegal in one
of the outdoor target ranges. He had a crossbow,
shooting down the holographic targets.
She watched him for a few shots, then quietly
sneaking up with carefully silent steps until
she was right behind him, said,
She was still shaking as she started down the stairs and into the living room, still in shock more like.
In all the years she’d known Rory, she’d known-- she’d known that he loved her. But this was the first time he’d ever said it outright, and she couldn’t even rightfully process it. Her brain was in panic mode. It was nearing 8PM and she still wasn’t HOME. Hugh would be furious.
At least they hadn’t had anything important planned for today. It was SUNDAY. But still, he would have wanted her to be home. Would’ve wanted her to spend time with him. She rounded the corner of the hallway, passing the living room-- and remembered: Erinea and Gilead. And in that moment she stopped and poked her head in.
They were just sitting there, and Gilead had ahold of her daughter’s hands and they were laughing, and she didn’t know what to make of it.
“Erinea?” she called, and her voice was sharper than she had intended.
Still giggling, her daughter turned to look at her with those blue eyes, eyes that looked so like her father’s.
“I’m--I have to go home,” she said quietly, and her eyes flicked to Gilead, and then back to her. She didn’t want to leave her alone with him, but she didn’t want Erinea home when she got there, either. Not when she knew how angry Hugh would be. “If-- if you want, you can stay here. Rory’s still here, you can go home and spend the night at his, alright?”
“Like hell I am!”
“--Don’t swear Erinea.”
The deep timbre voice volleys down from the upstairs hall, and Ultana cranes her neck to see Rory coming down with Blue at his side.
Erinea looked at him, and then back at Ultana. “I’m coming home with you.”
“You’re going to spend the night at Rory’s,” Ultana stated firmly.
“But--”
“Erinea, don’t argue with your mother.” He was coming down the stairs, now, right after her, Blue bounding along beside him.
“But--”
“Erinea.”
And that was all he needed, really. All he ever needed. The teenager’s smile had long faded from her face and she shut her mouth. And quietly, with a resignation that made her shoulders droop, she got up and wrapped her arms around Ultana. A breath Ultana exhaled into her hair, and she hugged her back.
Ultana pushed the hair back from her face and dropped a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head.
“I’ll be okay.”
She could see the answer richocheting in Erinea’s eyes, that betrayed, angry two-word answer in a gaze that followed her as she turned and walked out to the car where Nathaniel was waiting to drive her home.
She’s been happily sleeping, blissfully
unaware of the conversation happening
just a few feet away. Ultana sleeps another
good three, four hours even, until it’s seven
and her eyes finally flutter open after a full
fourteen hours straight of sleep.
The first thing she’s aware of is that it smells
different, unlike her bedroom. That triggers
a memory of what happened last night, and
quietly, her eyes flicker open to find Rory,
still sitting on the edge of her bed, quietly
scritching his dog around the ears.
Her eyes flick to the bedside clock, it reads
seven, and she lets out a breath-- assuming
it’s seven in the morning.
