Seamus O'Neill

❝ POWER resides only where men BELIEVE it resides. A shadow on the wall, yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very SMALL man can cast a very large shadow.❞

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

He didn't chastise her for speaking and even expanded on the topic. Sinead had so many questions swirling inside about where he had been, what those nations and planets were like, the culture, the people, the environments, the language, and everything in-between and beyond. Louder, breaking though it all, was the knowledge that to barrage him with said questions would be impertinent. She was not his pupil and certainly not his equal.

She settled on one that felt appropriate, making sure to tame her voice back to something demure. "Do you have a favorite world that you've visited, my Eldarin?"

[xfirstbcrn]

"They are all too different and varied for me to have a favorite," Seamus answered, because he really couldn't think of one off the top of his head. "That's an uninteresting answer; I'm sorry. Mm-- the parts of Lychnus I visited around the capitol do stand out, I suppose. The planet is dark for much of its year, so most of the plants and creatures are bioluminescent -- they create their own light."

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Elijah didn't let his grandad reply. He just chirruped, "Yeah," grabbed Seamus' hand with his own slightly sticky little ones, and toddled back towards the kitchen.

Murdoch had a longsuffering, frustrated look on his face tat he barely managed to mask for Elijah's sake. When Gilead followed into the kitchen, Murdoch quietly asked, "He said he wanted to play 'the cherry game.' Do you know what that is?"

"Yeah, I'll go grab it." Gilead left the room with one last apologetic look to Seamus.

The cherry game, as Elijah called it, was a simply board game that was easy enough for a toddler to understand, but had small enough pieces that he couldn't play it without supervision. It was kept on the top of the games bookshelf in the living room.

Gilead took a moment to text his mum.

[Help. Seamus and Dad are both here]

He took down the game. His phone buzzed.

Mum: [Oh god 😯 Do you want me to come over?] Mum: [Oh no that would make it worse, wouldn't it?]

He quickly texted back: [Yeah it would be worse. Feck. ]

Mum: [🙏🙏🙏]

He put away his phone and returned to the living room. Elijah bounced up and down with excitement as Gilead opened the box and began to set up the game on the breakfast table.

"I wanna be-- I wanna be green! An' daddy's gonna be blue an' granddad's gonna be yellow an' Uncle Seamus 's gonna be red!" He was taking fistfuls of the little plastic cherries, passing them to each adult.

[xfirstbcrn]

Seamus tried very hard not to react to the feeling of Elijah's sticky fingers. Usually he kept a wipe or two in his pocket for just this sort of thing whenever he was visiting, but he hadn't really planned on spending much time around the children.

He focused on ignoring the feeling and on pretending that there was absolutely nothing bothersome about sitting down to play a board game with Murdoch.

The thing about Elijah was that he didn't really play by the rules. Seamus wasn't particularly bothered by this. He and Gilead already knew what the made-up rules of the game were. Namely, the spilled bucket never fully applied, because such a thing would end in tears. That was considered simply a loss. No fruit collected for the little plastic basket. It made for a quicker game anyway, which was much better for a toddler's attention span.

So naturally, when, during Elijah's turn, the spinner landed on the spilled bucket, Seamus said: "Uh oh! Bad luck." And reached for the spinner. "My turn, huh?"

"Yeah," Elijah chirped. "It's okay."

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Murdoch had been about to say something, but closed his mouth at the reminder of the sleeping baby.

Elijah toddled over to Gilead and held up his page, grinning proudly. "Look't my drawing, Daddy, look't I drew," he whispered excitedly.

Gilead knelt down to his level, managing a smile despite the unbearably tense situation that just unfolded. "Beautiful work. I love the use of pink. Why don't you go put it on the fridge so your mammy can see when she gets home?"

Elijah nodded enthusiastically. Then, finally noticing Murdoch, looked up at him and waved with a little, "Hi," before pitter pattering off down the hall and stairs to the kitchen.

Murdoch looked like he had numerous brewing, brooding questions, but he had the sense not to say anything now. Instead he quietly, politely excused himself to go keep and eye on Elijah.

Gilead had no complaints. He gently took Hermione from Seamus. She stirred for a moment then nestled her head against his chest and thankfully continued to sleep. It took a few minutes to successfully get her back in her crib without waking her, but at last she was back down for her nap. Gilead and Seamus tip-toed out of the nursery, closing the door ever so carefully behind them.

Once they were downstairs Gilead turned to Seamus and said, "I'm so sorry. He was supposed to come yesterday, but rescheduled and I forgot to put it on the fucking calendar."

"Uncle Seamus!" Elijah called in his tiny voice from the kitchen.

"Elijah, there's no need--" Murdoch's voice followed but it was too late.

The little red-haired toddler came running out to the foyer to tug on Seamus' pant leg. "Granda an' I are gonna play a game. Will you play with us? I want you to play with us. It would make me really happy if you play with us."

[xfirstbcrn]

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Seamus said to Gilead. "Don't fret about it."

When Elijah came in and asked in earnest if Seamus would play with him and Murdoch, well--

Seamus was racking his brain trying to figure out some excuse that would work for a toddler, but was coming up short, and he did so hate to disappoint Elijah.

"Well... if your grandad wants to play with me..."

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Gilead had just gotten Hermione down for her nap when Seamus stopped by. It was a pleasant surprise. He and Erinea had invited him to come by any time to take a look through his old book collection. While Gilead was admitted sad to see some of the titles go, the library, like the house, was originally Seamus' and it felt wrong to not give him the chance to collect anything he wanted back in his own home. Not that those books were vanishing or anything. With his mum and Seamus living together, Gilead could always ask to borrow anything he missed.

They exchanged a few pleasantries before Seamus went up to the library. Gilead reminded him to avoid the squeaky floorboard (which Seamus remembered from his years in the house) to not wake the baby.

It was a peaceful afternoon. It being summer holiday, Gilead had a light schedule involving tutoring thrice a week and no work-related plans otherwise. With Erinea back to work from maternity leave, Gilead was taking on the majority of childcare through summer as he had with Elijah. He was finding it was much harder to juggle both a infant and a toddler, but he was managing and they had plenty of friends and family willing to babysit when he and Erinea were in desperate need of a break.

He was making his third cup of coffee for the day and about to sit down to read for the first time in days when a knock came at the door. Gilead frowned. He wasn't expecting anyone--

"Fuck," he hissed. He rushed to the calendar. Yesterday was the day his dad was supposed to come over to see the kids. Yesterday was also the day he texted Gilead to reschedule. To today.

And Seamus was upstairs in the library.

Another knock at the door.

His phone pinged.

[I'm at the door. Are you home?]

Gilead muttered another series of profanities, pacing in the kitchen, running his hand through his hair. He stopped. Took a breath, hands on his hips as he considered what to do.

Another knock on the door.

"Hullo?"

The sudden thought of the sound waking Hermione struck him. That was worse than any awkwardness of the potential encounter. He rushed with quiet steps to the door, opened it, and put a finger to his lips before quietly saying, "Sorry. Just got Hermione down for a nap."

His dad nodded understandingly as he stepped inside and slipped off his shoes. "Sorry I'm late. How've the little ones been?"

"Doing well. Robbing us of our sleep. On that topic, uh... coffee? I was about to start some brewing." Gilead's head was scrambling for what to do next. If he could delay his dad going upstairs, maybe Seamus would hear them, or would see his dad's car, and could slip out the back? It was an understanding in the family that the two didn't interact.

His dad thankfully agreed to coffee. They moved into the kitchen, Gilead started some brewing, and they quietly, idly chatted about life. Mostly Gilead catching his dad up on what was happening with him and Erinea and his dad dodging questions about how he was doing with vague dismissal. Gilead and Orla both knew it wasn't particularly well since the divorce, but his refusal to take any steps to improve his situation was getting frustrating for the both of them. Gilead didn't press it today. Or ever really. That was more Orla's ballpark. She seemed like the only one in the family who could ever get through to him.

Gilead had his dad successfully distracted by conversation until all at once Hermione woke up. Her wail echoed through the house. Gilead winced and got up. "I'll get--"

"It's alright. I can go check on her," his dad said, also standing.

"No, it's okay. She'll want to see me anyway. She doesn't exactly do well with--" He bit his tongue on the word strangers. It was exactly what his dad was to little Hermione since he'd only seen her twice in her few months alive, but it would be too harsh a thing to say. "--anyone who's not me or Erinea when she's just woken up."

His dad did that understanding nod of his, but came along anyway. Gilead gave up trying to stop him. It wasn't worth the conflict and Hermione was crying.

Only then she stopped, just as Gilead reached the hall. What had she... He stopped halfway up the stairs as the realization hit him. Seamus was still here. And his dad was already at the second floor landing. Gilead hurried to catch up, but he wasn't fast enough. He skidded to a halt, socks nearly slipping on the floor, behind his dad just as he reached the nursery and saw... Seamus. Standing there with Hermione sleeping in his arms.

His dad visibly soured.

Gilead mouthed 'sorry' to Seamus from behind his dad.

[xfirstbcrn]

Whatever Seamus had expected, it was not for Murdoch Grace to come through the door with Gilead. He had no idea he'd even been in the house.

Gilead looked duly apologetic. Murdoch looked...like his mother, Seamus thought. Murdoch's expression made him look like an angry goose who had just swallowed a lemon: just like Sibeal. He'd always considered Murdoch to take after his father, but the resemblance to Sibeal now was uncanny.

He quickly put a finger to his lips. Hermione had only just fallen asleep.

[xfirstbcrn]

Gilead and Erinea had told Seamus that he could come by whenever was convenient for him to pick up some of his old books. He'd been quite busy lately, but he had finally found a few hours of space in the middle of the day to drop by. He let himself in, said a brief hello to Gilead, and then went up to the library to sort through his books. He wasn't taking too many just yet, just some old beloved ones that had quite a few notes written in the margins. He packed them all into a small box and then set them aside.

Down the hall, Hermoine was crying. Gilead had looked pretty dead on his feet, so Seamus suspected that she'd been fussy for a while. She was in the teething stage.

He went down to the nursery. Elijah, who had been coloring by the window, was covering his ears. He stopped, though, when Seamus walked in, his face brightening up into a smile. He jumped up to wrap his arms around Seamus' legs.

"Uncle Seamus!"

"Hey, darling," Seamus laughed. "What's your sister so upset about, hm?"

Elijah shrugged unhappily. "Dunno. She's been sooooo noisy."

"I bet."

He gently disentangled himself (with promises that they would play later), and went over to collect Hermione and give her a good bounce, and pulled a few silly faces, and a few funny noises, and soon she was distracted enough that the crying stopped altogether.

"There we go," Seamus said with a smile. "How about we sing a song, hm?"

"Yes! Sing!" Elijah exclaimed.

So Seamus started to make up a very silly song about babies who wouldn't go to sleep, and how they really ought to, and how tired everyone was, which made Elijah laugh and Hermoine thankfully, slowly soothed to sleep.

Seamus was honestly terrified to put her down and stop rocking, which meant he had landed himself in quite the predicament.

"Elijah, why don't you show me what you've been coloring? Quietly, though. We don't want to wake your sister."

@the-self-proclaimed-prince

[xfirstbcrn]

Seamus tilted his head, wondering why she was asking.

"I am fond of temperate forests."

Then, it occurred to him to ask: "Do you?"

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead nodded. "I am, though... I am even more fond of the rainforest. I've only been once, but the water falling from the sky, pattering on the ground, splashing across the surface of the creeks, dripping down the leaves of trees was unlike anything I had felt, heard, or seen, anywhere else on Thol. I makes me wonder what it's like on far off worlds where gravity itself holds the air like a protective bubble around the planet and natural cycles of heat and cooling form clouds and rainfall. Real clouds. Not the projections on our skies. If you were to fly up and touch them, the real clouds, would they be soft? Or would they be sharp like ice? Or cool like water? Or could you feel them at all?"

She realized she'd been talking far more than intended. He asked her a simple question and she'd hardly given a simple answer. Her grandmother would have chided her by now. In any case, she'd come this far. She decided to take a gamble and finish her thought. He had responded well to such things the other week in the library. "Nothing here on our world is so wild and uncontrolled. Even our Park District biomes with their attempted facsimile are safe from lightning, tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes... It's terrifying to imagine being on a natural world, but I find myself so drawn to even our smallest local instance of its imitation."

[xfirstbcrn]

Every time Sinead actually got to talking, Seamus found he liked to listen. It made him smile to hear how much unjaded wonder she had about the natural world.

"You don't feel the clouds when you're up there, but they get you wet as the vaporized water molecules condense on your body. And you can feel it in your nose and your lungs, like when you step in a sauna, but instead it's cold. It's difficult to describe."

"I have experienced exactly one earthquake, and I should very much never like to experience it again! But rain, thunder, even hurricanes when you're safe inside a secure building -- I love those. The way lightning flashes across the sky is unforgettable."

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead was equally relieved that he agreed. It would have been terribly uncomfortable had he not.

"Seven o'clock," she agreed. That would give her plenty of time for her meeting with Bai Maggie and to eat and get dressed for the outing.

After some hesitation, she tentatively asked, "Did you have a particular biome in mind, my Eldarin?"

[xfirstbcrn]

Seamus tilted his head, wondering why she was asking.

"I am fond of temperate forests."

Then, it occurred to him to ask: "Do you?"

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead was grateful that he asked at breakfast rather than a later point in the day. It at least gave her time to mentally prepare for an extended time in his presence.

"No, my Eldarin. My evening schedule is clear today." She hesitated before softly adding, "...after five? If it is acceptable. If you would prefer earlier, I can rearrange as needed."

Eldina Ultana wanted her to shadow a follow up with Maggie on how the new additions to the staff were settling in. They would doubtless concede to the Eldarin's schedule, but neither would be happy about the inconvenience.

[xfirstbcrn]

Well, that was a relief. After five suited him just fine.

"Seven o'clock," he told her. "After dinner, perhaps."

He had the brief thought that they could go out and buy something, but it wasn't prudent to be seen on something that could be misconstrued as a date yet. Even if things were starting to feel dismally locked in, the rest of the world didn't need to know that. A walk in the park district was much more chaste than sharing a table.

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Over the past few weeks, Sinead had settled into a routine in the house of En. Seamus O'Neill. She would rise, take breakfast with the Eldarin in silence, then attend to whatever duties or activities were expected of her on that given day. Most free time was spent in the library, garden, or her room trying to be as inobtrusive as possible.

So it came as a great surprise when out of seemingly nowhere the Eldarin asked her to join him on an outing. She finished chewing and swallowed her chapati.

"If that is what my Eldarin wishes," she softly replied with an assenting nod. She then reached for her coffee and kept any indication of puzzlement from showing in her voice or face.

[xfirstbcrn]

"Good," Seamus said. "I was thinking of going this evening. Do you have anything planned or do Ultana and Maggie have something for you to do?"

If so, it would have to wait until the following week. This was his only free evening. Which, really he ought to have asked her earlier to give her time to plan ahead. That would've been courteous. He'd just been putting it off.

[xfirstbcrn]

Ultana and Maggie were pestering him to spend more time with his little prospective wife. They liked her, apparently.

Great, just great.

It meant his self-imposed and greatly enjoyed bachelorhood was about to come to an end.

Still, they had a point. If he was going to have to marry the girl then he'd better get to know her a bit so he could gauge how miserable an experience it was going to be. The time in the library hardly counted. They'd barely talked.

So, over breakfast one day, he elected to say:

"I'd like you to join me for a visit to the park district."

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

[What man, or creature, with vulture-like eyes has he slain? Can a cat truly hide body beneath a flat's floorboards? Perhaps only dear Ed. If so, one can only imagine when no eyes are on his feline form he takes a new one bearing the most fearsome of physical attributes]

[Opposable thumbs]

[xfirstbcrn]

Still the same sense of humor, he found himself observing. There was a sense of warmth to the thought that he immediately doused.

[Ah yes, with those he is unstoppable.]

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

With Edgar fed, Sinead was able to go back to cleaning up and getting dressed for work. She briefly considered calling out sick, but she had two meetings today that unfortunately couldn't be rescheduled.

Damn Keiran again for breaking up with her on a work night.

The ibuprofen was finally taking the edge off her headache.

The text response made her smile. She sent back:

[He certainly lives up to it. Composing morose poems verbally in the dead of night through his yowls and mews]

[xfirstbcrn]

Seamus texted back:

[Perhaps he is simply trying to warn you about the heartbeat under the floor that only he can hear.]

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead expected a simple acknowledgement, if even that. But they asked about her cat and that was a request she couldn't ignore. After swigging some water with an ibuprofen, she found her beloved cat sitting grumpily by his empty food dish, swishing his tail.

She snapped a photo of him glaring at the camera then went to open a can for his breakfast.

[This is Edgar (Allen Poe). He's three years old and a right mischief maker when he wants to be. Currently he's cross with me for not feeding him the moment I woke.]

[xfirstbcrn]

Seamus couldn't help himself. He laughed.

Edgar Allen Poe.

[What a good name!! 🥺]

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead saw the text and decided to take that as an end to the strange encounter, leaving her phone on the bathroom counter while she washed her face.

When she opened the medicine cabinet to grab some ibuprofen, a mrrrp and eck eck sounded from the living room, followed shortly by a streak of black fur and a rumbling purr.

"'Morning, Ed. I'll feed you in a minute," Sinead muttered.

Edgar jumped up on the counter with greater rudeness and instance. Sinead lightly batted him away. "I could have sworn I had--"

Her phone clattered to the floor.

"Edgar!" she exclaimed. He scurried away from the scene of his mischief.

Sinead sighed and picked up her phone. The screen wasn't cracked. In fact, it wasn't even locked. In fact, Edgar had seen fit to send a message.

[Ihdfugrbic ibex owner brr]

She swiftly amended:

[I'm so sorry! That was my cat!]

[xfirstbcrn]

Another text came through. This time indistinguishable nonsense.

Why did she even still have this text conversation open? He assumed it to be a mistake and simply ignored it.

But then ping!

Sinead had a cat? He supposed she always had liked Bastet.

He really shouldn't respond. He should let the conversation die.

[You have a cat?]

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead woke the next morning to her alarm and a splitting headache. Her mouth tasted rancid, her hair was a mess, and she was curled up on her couch in yesterday's clothes. Two empty bottles of wine sat on her coffee table. A third open, but relatively untouched. She winced at the light from a lamp she didn't turn off last night.

Sitting up, her stomach lurched. Thankfully she didn't throw up.

The haze of last night gradually came back to her, if foggy. The breakup, the book, the letter that set her off sobbing and drinking 'til midnight. Pathetic really.

She grabbed her phone from the floor to turn off the alarm.

[Goodnight] from "??? (NOT Seamus)"

Sinead flushed red to her ears and buried her face in her hand. "Oh no, no, no... shit."

That part hadn't been a dream or faulty memory. Reading back over the texts she was overcome with wilting embarrassment to the point of texting back the poor stranger.

[Good morning. I'm terribly sorry for dumping all that on you last night. It was quite inappropriate. I suppose this is why people say not to text drunk]

[I hope it didn't cause any trouble]

[Thank you for the reminder to drink water, by the way. The hangover is hellishly bad enough without dehydration in the mix. You're a lifesaver]

[Realizing now that I should probably stop bothering you, as you don't really know me and I have no idea who you are. It just felt wrong to not apologize. Sorry. Again. I've edited my contacts so this is no longer my ex's number. Should be the last time we have that mix up]

[Drunk or not]

With groggy determination, she peeled herself off the couch and shuffled to the bathroom to start making herself presentable for work.

[xfirstbcrn]

Seamus was already at work by the time the text came in, and he instantly regretted not blocking Sinead's number.

He ought to just ignore her and move on. This was far too conversational, and it felt unfair when Sinead didn't know it was him on the other side of the screen.

But...it was also so very her, he thought with a twinge of something like fondness. So very Sinead to feel the need to give such a longwinded apology and be so conversational with a stranger. In that, at least, he supposed she hadn't changed.

He decided for a very succinct [No problem.]

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

The last thing Sinead wanted to do was go to bed. If she slept then it would be morning and morning meant she would have to go to work. She didn't want to see anyone right now.

Damn Kieran for breaking up with her on a work night.

And damn that book for turning up after a decade on a work night.

And damn herself for letting it all get to her head and getting drunk on a work night.

The wine was dizzying her head and casting a drowsiness over her that begged her to succumb to sleep despite these protests.

She settled for shifting to lie vertically on the couch.

[ok I'll try]

[Goodnight]

She edited the name on the contact to "??? (NOT Seamus)" clicked off her phone, and closed her eyes. It wasn't long before the two bottles of wine lulled her off to drunken sleep.

[xfirstbcrn]

Thank god, she would finally quit texting him, get sober, and hopefully wake up in the morning and never speak to him again.

[Goodnight.] he texted back, just because it felt strange not to.

He ought to just block her number. That would be the smart and reasonable thing to do. Instead, he put in a new contact for, "Sinead", and then went back to his book for the night.

[the-self-proclaimed-prince]

Sinead had thought of that after the first bottle, but hadn't actually touched the glass of water she set aside. She took a generous swig then texted back:

[thanks]

[you seem nice like f a very very kind person sorry I texted you]

[I just wanted to give this books back because its malting me sad because I deadly miss grin which is srufouf because it's been ten years and to feel pathetic so I got rely drunk]

[miss him]

[I really miss him even thrif gut he cheated on me. I'm an eegit maybe]

It occurred to her through the drunk haze that she was pouring our her troubles to a complete stranger.

[Soeey for bothering you. Your a really nice strabgee]

[xfirstbcrn]

[You know, generally it is not a good idea to get drunk when you feel down about things.] He texted back.

And then, [I don't think you're an idiot.]

What is he doing? Why has he not ended this stupid fucking conversation.

[Go to bed. You'll feel better.]