nsamusements | Call Out Meme: Version 5.0

Grainne was pleasantly surprised to find the meadow on her exploration of this strange tower. After twenty five floors, she was quite ready to pause and take stock of things mentally. Besides... it had been quite a while since she paused to just sit and enjoy a moment's break, and never mind the stains it will leave on her clothes!

Sitting down in the middle of the grass, she sighed and looked around, reaching out to pluck a few flowers and set them in her hair. It almost felt like home. Almost.

Half an hour later, it's no surprise she settled back on the grass and closed her eyes... the meadow was far too relaxing for her to be tempted by the strange gray and white walls and what other wonders (or horrors) the other floors had to offer.

When hunting monsters and patrolling the Tower isn't enough to wear the great hound out, Diarmuid often brings Mac an Chuill here to the Meadow. It is a safe place where the dog can run and play as much as he wants until his energy finally runs low. Of course, if there is someone around, Diarmuid always asks if the rambunctious dog will be bothering them. Today, however, they seem to be in luck...

But no, the Meadow is not empty. Diarmuid senses the presence of an unfamiliar servant at the same time the hound lets out a loud, happy bark. Almost as if...he somehow knows the unfamiliar presence even though that should be impossible. An order to back down is just about to pass Diarmuid's lips when the hound bounds off into the Meadow ready to affectionately 'slime' the familiar and beloved owner of that smell. All Diarmuid can do is run behind him calling out...

"Mac an Chuill! Stop!"

Grainne hadn't been fully asleep when the tongue ravaged her face, but she had let her hair out enough to serve as a soft pillow against the grass, so when she flew up in shock at both the lick and then the so familiar voice... her hair went flying too.

She doesn't understand right away, and she's distracted... There's an enemy presence nearby. Instantly, she shifts into her Servant armor, if one could call a white dress and green cloak armor of any sort and jumps to her feet. Peering through the veil she now has on her face, Grainne's heart stops for a moment when she sees just who it is that had called the dog...

Frozen to the ground, she makes no aggressive action. She couldn't, even if she wanted to. In fact... a hand slowly pulls the knife out of the sheath at her belt and tosses it on the ground. She doesn't speak, but the gesture is obvious; she surrenders.

Diarmuid stops approaching the Servant when she jumps to her feet and shifts clothing almost as if she is reading an attack. He is confused to the point that he cannot even bring himself to call out that he means her no harm and that there is no war here. Why is Mac an Chuill acting like he is? Why does her silhouette feel so familiar when her presence is not at all so?

And then, the knife flies through the air and his heart stops in his chest because he knows that blade. He has felt its bite. Unconsciously, Diarmuid's right hand moves to his thigh to rub a spot upon it.

It can't be her. It can't be her. It can't. Be. Her. Not this close to the end. Not when the fighting is about to hit its worst...

Not as a Servant!

How can it be? Is it some kind of illusion? A cruel trick? He has not been feeling the best the last few days, but...this?

"Grainne...can it be?"

Bowing her head in acknowledgement, she doesn't dismiss her robes yet. Not yet... seeing him through the veil makes her feel more protected, safe from the truth standing in front of her.

He... really is a Servant, and he really is here, just as they said. Her heart thumps in her chest loudly enough that she's sure he can hear it, and she places her hands over her heart. Despair crept into her expression, for he must know everything that happened after his death.

Grainne would never have wished him back as a Servant.

"Diarmuid..."

"It is you, isn't it?" The question is asked in a vain, foolish hope that the answer will somehow change what he already knows. He knows that voice. Even though it is only one word, that word is his name and how many times has Diarmuid heard her say it over the course of their lives?

What happened after his death that brought her to the Throne? Diarmuid curses himself now for having let his fear get the better of him and keeping him from combing more thoroughly through the knowledge the Grail gave him. What happened? What?

Unconsciously, as Mac an Chuill looks between them and whines, confused by their reactions to each other, Diarmuid raises his hand and starts to play with the silver ring on his right hand. There is part of him that wants to go to her, to pull her into his arms and hide her away from any pain the Tower might inflict on her. The other part...

...the other part wonders, with his curse no longer holding any sway over her, how long it will take for her to start cursing him for ruining her life...

"I..." Grainne still hasn't looked up, but clasps her hands together, rubbing them together to soothe her nerves. "It is me..."

This is harder than she how she thought it would be. Dreading every moment that brought their meeting closer. How can she even start to think she could talk to him after all she did?

She takes a hesitant step forward, dismissing her robes and appearing again in her modern outfit. Her hair floated around her shoulders freely now, flowers falling out of it and one dangling in her face. "I never thought I'd see you again... until this place."

Cursing him is the last thing on her mind, not with that sad expression on her face. She couldn't even make it to the end and get the Grail for him...

"For all the horrors that live within the walls of this place, there are also a great many miracles," Diarmuid takes a few more steps toward her before pausing just to look at her. With her 'armor' gone, there is no denying her identity. He knows that face as well as his own...

Without a word, he falls to his knees in front of her, head bowed in apology. At times, in this place, Diarmuid has felt anger toward her and her actions, but now, with her here, that 'anger' pales in the face of what he knows is real anger--feelings he has felt toward Sephiroth, feelings he has felt toward the Administrators.

Truly, he has never been angry with her, only with himself.

"I am sorry. For what it is worth now, in this place, I am sorry for what I put you through back then. I never wanted you to be hurt or to have to sacrifice for the feelings my curse forced upon you..."

Grainne... hadn't expected that at all. Her mouth drops open in shock and she pales, knuckles turning white with how hard she gripped her own hands.

She knows of his curse, had known for many years, but what he's saying doesn't make sense, not in her head. He... is sorry she fell in love with him? That they had what they had? The very thought makes her sick to her stomach, and her heart hurt. Minutes pass before she can work the lump out of her throat enough to speak.

"D-Diarmuid, what are you... what are you saying?" She said, fighting a very definite tremble in her voice, the kind she had always before she started to cry. She felt like that now.

Had he... only taken her out of a sense of duty? It stopped her dead in her thoughts, and the only thing that whispers is a voice telling her to fade away and leave him be.

Diarmuid is thankful that his head is bowed at the moment, because he recognizes that tremor in her voice and knowing that he put it there hurts enough to make him want to flinch. He manages to keep his body still, but he cannot stop the wince that crosses his face. Of course, he is hurting her. It had all been about him hurting her, hadn't it? Taking away her freedom. Forcing her into a life that was not the one she was meant for.

Not long after arriving in the Tower, during his first attempts at learning himself, Diarmuid had come to the conclusion that she had likely never loved him for real. That their life together had been a lie. For himself, he had decided he never loved her either. Admired her. Yes. Respected her. Definitely. But love? What he had felt for her back then is different from what he feels for Waver now. Is that not proof that he hadn't really loved her?

Or...is love just that varied in its forms? His father would know, but Aengus is not here and Diarmuid...is just confused and fearful of doing more to hurt her than he already has.

Still...he has to ask. He has to know...

"The answer to this question might seem obvious to you, but I beg of you to think on it and give me an honest response. I need to know. In this place where my curse does not influence and control your mind..." he forces himself to look up at her then, expression filled with many emotions--confusion, hope, and fear all among them, "...did you ever really love me?"

Did you ever really love me?

Her breathing stops at the question, her hands relax and her heart felt like it had gone still.

To think honestly on that question... she did not think. The shock of that question processes slowly, making the minutes stretch into what seems like years.

Out of everything their first meeting after so many years, after their deaths, this is not how she expected it to go. Though she never really expected to see him again, she'd always entertained the possibility... well, more like the fantasy. It would have been a happy, but bittersweet reunion while she wished him well on his new life, saying a proper goodbye and maybe a promise of seeing each other again wherever they ended up. She never went so far to assume he would stay with her, and she would have been content to fade away then. She is still a Servant, after all, and if she had been granted her wish, they wouldn't have been able to stay together anyway.

But this? No "Hello" or "How were the kids" or even a "How was your life?" Instead, he asks her if she ever loved him... when it is love for him that saw her become a Servant for that faint chance of restoring him when it was her actions that had angered Fionn.

Grainne stares at him, going from barely concealed shock to anger so slowly it's hard to say at what point the transition happened. As fast as she could, she moves in front of him and raises a hand to strike across his face.

"That is the first thing you say to me?!" Her voice is barely even a whisper, tight and tense and even hard to get the words out. "Was that your dying thought? That I had no true love for you? That I was so easily led by a curse though we had been together for so many years? Do you think so little of me that I couldn't have overcome something so silly as that? Do you think that my love was such that I couldn't brave my fear and shame to go after you that one time you would leave me?" Her voice is slowly rising, but so were the tears. The quiver is back, making each word exceptionally painful. Without knowing it, she slips into Ancient Gaelic, forgetting for the moment the languages the Grail knowledge had given her. "If that is what you have thought all this time, you should have! You should have left me and made peace with Fionn, and I would have gone my own way! I know I have made mistakes, but people have made worse with far less consequences! I have been stupid, and selfish, and I have had a lifetime to think about them, and a lifetime to mourn after you!"

Grainne would have accepted if he had said he didn't love her, as she knew he went unwilling from the first day, but she could not bear the doubt of her own feelings.

"I am not such a weak woman to be enslaved all my life to a curse!" Then all of her ire and rage drained out of her, leaving only a blank look and a raw throat. "To love... but never a curse. How could you ask me that?" She pauses, looking at him without really seeing. "Was I only ever a burden to you?"

"I beg of you do not do this. Do not throw away all you have fought for to avenge what cannot be changed. My fierce hound, do not! Please...do...not...do..." Diarmuid's voice is raw and tense. Not from her slap or her anger. He knows he deserves it. No...this pain comes from being forced to remember that time, that moment of his death so clearly.

"My last thoughts were a plea, were begging that my best friend would not destroy his life over my death, over a life lived and loved to its fullest. I screamed it in my mind because I could not scream it with my mouth. Not with torn lungs nor with bloodied lips. They would not listen to me. They would not obey..." Diarmuid's eyes don't met hers. In fact, his head has not moved from the side where her slap pushed it when it made contact. Instead, golden orbs, wet with pain, stare blankly at a flower near her foot. His words really aren't that important and echo hollowly in his ears. They are to buy him time, to give him a chance to try and get his brain to start working again. The question was simple. He had just needed to hear it. To know, finally, for sure one way or the other. He had not meant for it to hurt her so and it had anyway.

Diarmuid swallows hard, before speaking again, "I never told you about...Iseult." What little color that is in his face drains away as the name leaves his lips for the first time in thousands of years. For the first time since...

"She was a victim of my curse like so many others, and like so many others I did my best to explain that I could not be with her and that she needed to fight what she felt, that someday it would be all right and she would find another to love. I thought, when I did not see her waiting for me after training for a few days, that things were settled and then..." Diarmuid pauses, a tremor starting to shake his body without him realizing it. "Oscar and I were walking to the training grounds when she approached us. She asked me once more if I would still refuse her. I remember it so vividly. She was dressed in her best gown, hair loose over her shoulders. Would I still refuse her? Of course. I did not love her and she did not really love me. We had been over this..."

The shaking becomes harder now and Diarmuid's arms wrap unconsciously around himself. His eyes are distant, blank, shattered as the memories of that time flash before him real as the day they happened, "She stepped to me, we were only an inch or two apart. And she...she..." He draws in a sudden loud breath, almost like the final breath of a drowning person and his words race out after that, stumbling over each other in their rush to escape his mouth before he is unable to say more.

"She slit her throat before me. The blood is so warm on my face...on my clothes. It's everywhere. Her dress, her face, her hair, her... I couldn't... There was nothing... Nothing I could do! She died because of the strength of that curse. Because she wanted to leave life if she couldn't live it with me!"

His head comes up then, tears flashing at their corners, "Don't ask me if I thought a 'silly' curse would hold you for so long. Did I? When I saw that 'silly' curse take a woman's life? Yes! I did! And yet, I hoped... I hoped...but I could never make myself believe. I just needed to hear it. I needed to hear the answer..."

Diarmuid slumps then, head bowed, shoulders shaking. He isn't crying, but it would be better if he were because then he would not be trapped in the memory of her blood splattering him over and over again...

Understanding came then, seeing him go through that agony on account of her and her anger, and she instantly felt shame. Shame as great as that time so long ago when she had wronged him cruelly. A bucket of the coldest ice water would have been less shocking to hear the story of the girl who killed herself.

Though she's sure he would push her away, to hold and comfort him is too strong of an urge to resist, and her arms go around him, falling down to her own knees. Years apart hadn't dulled her memories of him that much not to recognize when he needs someone.

Even if she doesn't deserve to hold him.

"I... I beg your forgiveness... I did not know..." Any of the remaining anger she may have felt at the end is gone now, washed away completely. Another mistake... why does she always make mistakes?! "The... the answer is yes. Please don't ever doubt that."

Something else is there, in her mind, wanting to come out, but she stays still for a moment, unsure if he would pull away or not, and leave her there on the meadow as he rightly should. The way he talked about Oscar, made it seem as if he didn't know. She has to tell him, whether or not it seems out of place there after his confession. Grainne knows how much Oscar and Diarmuid had meant to each other. "Oscar... did not raise a hand against Fionn."

"I never told you," Diarmuid's voice is flat and lifeless now. Her words are very slowly making their way into his mind. However, it's not them, but the presence of someone familiar--someone safe--that is having the most impact. That's why he leans forward into her and never once considers pulling away. His head settles against her shoulder and then Diarmuid falls silent, though the silence doesn't last long. Soon a soft sound fills the air. A soft sound that slowly gets louder.

Diarmuid is crying. For the first time since what happened so very long ago, he is facing the emotions he didn't have time for back then. Iseult's younger brother--her family's only other child--had gone mad with grief and begun an aggressive quest to ruin Diarmuid. Not only had he been forced to deal with him, he had to fight to keep his friends from taking action against the grief stricken man. However, once her brother had attacked Diarmuid, things had changed. Diarmuid himself had only been slightly injured, but his friends were done listening to him tell them to let it go. Oisin... Diarmuid is still not sure exactly how the bard did it, but in only a matter of days, Oisin's managed to make everyone forget that Iseult's brother even existed, forcing the man to leave the city. In fact, he had never been heard from again. Only Diarmuid and Oisin himself remembered the man at all.

For a short time, Diarmuid had wondered if he was going mad, then things slowly started to return to normal. With no one besides Oisin remembering the whole story, Diarmuid had packed away his emotions and smiled like nothing was wrong.

That smile--that wall--is finally gone, crumbling once he had forced himself to finally say her name again. It takes a while for his tears to spend themselves and then he falls silent once more. Finally hearing Grainne's answer is soothing even as it troubles him. How...how does he respond to that?

Thankfully, her words regarding Oscar give him a way to avoid that response for now and he takes it to give him more time to sort his mind out and think of the best way to bring up his new life...and his new love.

"You have no idea now grateful I am to hear that. Thank you. Thank you."

Grainne... has no idea what to do or say, other than think it definitely would have been better if she'd never come here at all, and the next thought wondering what had happened to him for him to have changed so much. It's only a splint second for her to decide to go into hiding and avoid him completely as soon as she gets away. This is the last thing she wanted.

For now, she remains silent, too afraid to speak again or say anything, only holding on to him as long as he seems to tolerate it. She feels too close to tears herself anyway, trying as hard as she could to bury her emotions, as she had learned to in her later years.

One thing is clear though... Diarmuid doesn't know of the legends, or either didn't believe them. She knows as well as anything stories get changed over time, but she is sure that every one of theirs recorded what happened with Oscar and Fionn. A sudden fear grips her, and she decides not to tell him anything of what happened after unless he asks. If he asks...

Keeping him close, Grainne closes her eyes and falls back on an old, familiar pattern she can only hope he will remember, making soft noises to soothe a wounded heart.

The sounds work as she hopes since they are so familiar that Diarmuid would be able to recognize them even in the worst shape. They give him something to focus on and to use as an anchor to pull himself back together. It's not the same as how Waver anchors him through their bond, but it still works.

He takes a deep breath and finally finds the strength to bring his arms up around her and hug her in return. Even though Diarmuid's arms are still shaking, it's an improvement to have him moving purposefully.

"I'm sorry," his voice is shaky and harsh from the crying. He tries to to settle it, but can only do so much, "This...is not how our meeting should have gone. I have changed so much. The war...this place. I've been here over a year now. No matter how hard you fight, you change. Sometimes for good, sometimes not."

Diarmuid sits back slightly, arms moving to lightly rub her arms, "I...need to tell you something, but I need you to promise me you won't run away. I don't want you to act as if you are a burden to me. You are not. Do you understand?"

She nods, several pieces clicking into place for her, and she did understand, but not exactly the way he meant. It didn't at all comfort her enough to quell the sudden jump in her heart rate. After so many years together, why would he make her promise such a thing if it wasn't something awful? It's already too late and she does feel like a burden, but if acting is all he wants... she could try.

A place like this with all its strangeness is not something she can fully fathom on how it could change someone, but from what she's seen so far, to so completely have Diarmuid changed that he... that's something she's still having trouble processing; his actions when he first saw her. The strongest and bravest man she had ever known.

With all the years of her life behind her, Grainne would be strong for his sake, if that's what he needs and wants. "I promise. Tell me, and I will not run."

Diarmuid nods in acknowledgment of her agreement, but doesn't speak right away. It almost seems too easy somehow, and he would be saddened to know how she is twisting his meaning to leave herself loopholes to escape though. Still, it is not her fault for she is still so new. She doesn't know the power of this place.

Sadly, she will not likely stay innocent to its power for long.

"I was brought here after my war ended for me--ended with me being betrayed to my death by yet another lord. It...broke me," his eyes dart away from hers for a moment and fill with shame he still hasn't completely come to terms with. "This place, during my first few months broke me even farther. There...was so little of me left and what was left wanted nothing more than to hide in the memories of my past. It was safe there. I was safe there... I don't think I would still be me if someone had not come to rescue me then..."

A sad smile crosses his face as he thinks back to the day when he had found Waver in the meadow. So much had changed forever that day...

Diarmuid raises his right hand so that she can see the ring on it, "He is my partner now. My lord. My master. My love. Please...forgive me. I did not think I would see you ever again. I do not want you to think I abandoned you or what we shared. I just...I need him. I cannot be without him. He took the shattered pieces of what I was and held them safely long enough for me to heal. I am still healing, but...there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I recognize myself now. It is such a relief to know the face I see in the mirror again..."

The way his war went for him, betrayed by another, and the things he's endured so far brings a level of sorrow she didn't know she could feel, even after all the pain of an entire lifetime behind her.

But when he finished, she freezes for a split second, and then smiles. She's happy for him, this is better than what she hoped to hear, and that he's moved on from the past and found love is all she could have wished for from the Grail. Though, she would have spared him the rest, if she could.

"Then be happy, Diarmuid. Stay with him and look to the future."

For the longest time, all Diarmuid can do is blink at her in surprise. The smile had confused him enough, but the words... How can she say them and mean them when she just told him that she had loved him for real? Is she lying? No...she would not. Is she trying to hide her pain? Is that it? Trying to not let him know just how hurt and angry she is?

"I...don't understand. Aren't you angry? Don't you hate me for doing this? For loving another when you just told me you loved me for real beyond the feelings the curse pressed onto you?" Unconsciously, he begins playing with the ring on his finger, "Please...don't lie to me. Don't hide how you really feel. I will understand. Yell if you want to... Hate me if you must... Just please don't hide it..."

"Why would I hate you?" Grainne asks, confusion clouding the smile she had only seconds ago. "Why would I... why would I make the same mistake I made all those years ago, and take you away from someone you truly love?" She'd be lying if she said she wasn't hurt even a little bit, but she's trying to overcome all she had caused in life, and with love came sacrifice. She had learned that because of him. "If it makes you happy... that's all I could wish."

"But you... Do you want me to go away?" Diarmuid sits back from her slightly, hands coming up to rub at his face as if doing so might help him better understand what she is saying. "Don't you... Wait a minute, what do you mean your 'mistake?'" His hands drop again, and he gives her a concerned look. "What aren't you telling me? Please, just say it! There is too much I don't know, don't understand. Why are you a Servant? You should have lived the rest of your life peacefully with the children! What happened?"

Grainne shakes her head and stands up, moving away from him. To put distance between them, and to keep Mac from growing bored enough to decide to slime her again. "You really don't know anything that happened after you died, do you?"

She doesn't want to answer those questions, and wonders if that promise not to run still is in effect now that he's told her his news. "Answering those things will only bring you pain. You've changed so much, and it's only been a short time since you found me. Please, for your own sake, just put everything behind you and make a better future."

"Answering those things will only bring you pain..." After being silent for several moments, Diarmuid finally breaks the silence by repeating her words. His voice is calm, dark, and sharply angry, the emotion in his eyes as intense as his voice is calm. The sudden change in his owner's attitude causes Mac an Chuill to whine uneasily from where he he had laid down next to Diarmuid while he and Grainne were talking.

"I will not deny that I have changed, but if you think I have become so weak that I need my truths filtered to me through a layer of cotton, you are sadly mistaken!" Diarmuid's fist strikes the ground near Mac an Chuill causing the dog to jump, though, before the hound has even finished the action, Diarmuid is on his feet pacing away from Grainne trying to get his anger under control.

He hates it...hates it when people keep information from him because they think he cannot handle it, that he will break like glass if he is told. Yes, Diarmuid has been fighting a lot, but he is still a warrior. He will not give and will not crumble. That at least has not changed and will never change about him.

"Tell me!" The words are just short of an order, "Tell me now."

Grainne turns then, looking at him with some fear. The last time he had gotten so angry... Taking a deep breath, she starts, trying not to shake. "The children went to be fostered and learn the ways of war at my bidding, and they wanted to make war on Fionn. Only later I realized they would be fighting against the Fianna, who only got more powerful over the years. Fionn came to the house, and would not stop no matter what I said. He kept on until I was afraid he would do something... drastic. And all after I lost you and the baby!" The memories were faded, but she tries her best to remember, to remember how the people and times were. "I know you will never forgive me for what I had to do... but please understand, it was the best thing I could think of at the time. I married Fionn and forced him to make peace with the children, so they would not risk their lives. They took your place in the Fianna, and did well."

Pausing, her head fell, looking at the grass and flowers near her feet. This next part is so hard for her. Nothing but one bad thing after another, and even those actions had led to tragedy. "Fionn got worse as the years passed. The Fianna became tyrants, demanding ridiculous tributes and riding with arrogance. Fionn went so far to demand first night with a girl he had no business with, and that led to one thing after another. I-- I'm not too sure of the details, and the legends differ. It... ended in what they now call the Battle of Gabhra, and everyone but Fionn, Oisin and Caoilte died. Donnchad, Eochaid, and Connla..."

Call Out Meme: Version 5.0

Grainne Attack!

:-D

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Warnings for: Death, blood, suicide, and...I think that covers it?

Welp... can you help me pick up the shattered Grainne pieces?

Here a piece, there a piece...

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