6Note: This was actually posted about almost a month ago on kellsmeme (Well, getting a prompt meme had to happen sooner or later). To my knowledge it is literally the only fill on that thing. So I thought, why not post it here with lyrics to the eponymous Kíla song for funsies?
Prompt: Brendan doesn't get a lot of hugs from his Brothers or his uncle. Aisling gives him hugs all the time. He eventually starts hugging her first.
Disclaimer: The Secret of Kells is owned by Tomm Moore and Cartoon Saloon. The lyrics come from Kíla's 1997 album, Tóg É Go Bog É, which I only own on iTunes; the translation from Irish Gaelic to English is courtesy of Celtic Lyrics Corner.
Bí Ann
Bí ann, bí liom (Be there, be with me)
Bí gasta, bí cróga (Be quick, be brave)
Bí cliste, bí cinnte (Be clever, be sure)
Bí casta, bí glic (Be tricky, be sharp)
The first time it happens he almost doesn't notice it, but the sudden coolness of Aisling's arms wrapping around Brendan's torso gives him pause. She rests her chin on his shoulder, peering at a new collection of sketches adorning the stone slab (deer, snowdrops, salmon leaping from the river, a napping Pangur).
"W-what're you doing?" he sputters.
"Hugging you," Aisling responds matter-of-factly.
It takes Brendan a second to register the fact that he's being hugged by a rather pretty girl, and the thought makes his cheeks redden.
"Uh… why?"
"Am I not allowed to?" Aisling retorts, shooting him an annoyed look.
"It's just… unexpected is all," he mutters lamely.
It's been a long time since anyone— his uncle or the brothers— held him like this for no apparent reason, so he isn't entirely sure what to make of it. Aisling seems comfortable, though, so he takes it in stride and practices his knot work.
Bí grámhar, gealgáireach (Be loving, light-hearted)
Bí socair laistigh (Be steady inside)
Bí doimhin ach bí éadrom (And be deep but be light)
Gan teannas ar bith (With no tension inside)
I do chorp, i do chroí (In your body, in your heart)
I do cheann, ins a tslí (In your head, _)
Ina chuireann tú tú fhéin i láthair (In the way which you present yourself)
I pé chomhluadar ina bhfuil tú (In whatever company you happen to be)
The second time it happens is after a routine climb up the old oak tree. Brendan, growing confident in his increasing skills at tree-climbing, decides to test himself in a race to the bottom (as is the way of boys his age) and Aisling is happy to oblige. She giggles while practically dancing through the foliage, Brendan scrambling to keep up. He takes his eyes of the fleeting white of her hair and looks down just a split second before tripping on a large knot in the bark, losing his footing and flailing wildly for something to catch himself on.
He doesn't hear Aisling call his name over the wind in his ears and his own startled shouts. Brendan grabs at as many branches as he can, crashing and knocking into several more and scaring off a few birds, until he finally gets a steady grip on one barely strong enough to hold his weight. He lets go once it starts creaking and lands rather painfully on the ground below, eliciting a sharp cry. This was a much higher drop than the last one and there isn't a bush to cushion his fall, so he's left dazed and groaning and tasting copper.
Aisling is instantly at his side, her expression a mix of concern, surprise, and anger.
"Are you alright?" she half-demands and checks him over. Aside from some cuts and bruises, the taste of blood from where he bit the inside of his cheek, and a twisted ankle, he's not seriously injured.
"I think so," he grunts, pulling leaves out of his hair.
Though relieved, Aisling's worry gives way to anger and she pins him down with a glare as fierce as anything Abbot Cellach can muster.
"Are you trying to kill yourself?" she snaps. "You need to be more careful, Brendan! What if you broke your leg, or worse? If you fell from any higher you could've died!"
Brendan says nothing and stares at the grass, hurt, embarrassed, and sufficiently deflated.
"Honestly, what is it with you? Are all boys like this?" Aisling continues ranting.
Brendan will not have a proper response for quite some time, but he knows from the other children in Kells that it's in the nature of young boys to try impressing someone (usually a person they like), only to get themselves hurt in the process.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
Aisling's face softens. "You had me worried. Just a little bit, though." Again she embraces him, only this one is tighter than the first and has undertones of desperation, as if she's afraid he'll get in trouble again if she lets him go. "Just a little bit," she repeats more to herself.
Hesitantly Brendan places a hand on her shoulder. Not even his own uncle has held him quite like this since he was still a toddler, but with Aisling protectively wrapped around him Brendan realizes that he's forgotten what this feels like, how much he's missed it.
It feels… good.
"I'll be more careful next time," he assures her. He still has so much to learn.
"You'd better!" Aisling pulls back and gives his chest a chastising poke, back to her usual self. "I can't always be around to save you."
Brendan moves to stand but winces at the throbbing in his ankle. "Ouch, ouch…! How am I going to explain this to the Abbot? He's going to be furious…"
Aisling stands and offers her hand, smiling.
"I can fix that."
Bí ann liom (Be there for me)
Bí láidir il-dána (Be strong and be able)
Nuair a chasann an domhan (When the world takes a turn)
Bí ann dom (Be there with me)
Agus buailfimid le chéile (And we will meet together)
Nuair a thagann an t-am (When the right time comes)
It's not until late into autumn when he's drawing vines and leaves that he plucks up the courage to admit, "I wanted to impress you."
Aisling gives him a strange look, hanging upside down from a low branch. "Huh?"
"That race I suggested? I wanted to see how much I'd improved so I could… well…"
"Oh, that," Aisling's face turns sour for a moment. "All you managed to do was hurt yourself."
"I know, I know." By now Brendan is somewhere between laughing and shaking his head at what seemed like a good idea at the time.
"But why would you want to impress me in the first place?"
At this point Brendan's articulation reaches the consistency of a bowl of porridge. "Uh, well… because…" He almost turns as red as his hair, and it doesn't help that Pangur regards him with exasperation and bats his face with her tail. All he can manage for now is mumbling, "I wanted you to… to like me."
"But I already do like you," Aisling points out, tilting her head in confusion.
Brendan stammers, "Y-you do? But how was I supposed to know when you never said so?"
"I thought it was obvious." She grins at him. "You don't need to race down a tree to impress me, Brendan, but do you know what does?"
"What?"
"This," the faerie lays a finger on the slab, careful not to smudge his lines.
"I still have a very long way to go," Brendan chuckles bashfully and rubs the back of his neck. Aisling sits down next to him and really takes a look at how much his work has grown and evolved. Brendan, however, has his doubts. "Brother Aidan… he says I should be the one to do the Chi'Rho page, but what if I make a mistake? I'd ruin the most incredible book in the world! I'm just not good enough for that…"
"Not yet, you mean. You're scared now but you're still learning, right? I think you can do it in time."
Brendan looks at her. "How can you be so sure?"
She doesn't answer right away, but considers the way his vines curve and intertwine in accordance with the shape of the stone slab; the detail in his leaves; and when she smiles again it's full of warmth and lights up her green eyes like nothing he's ever seen before. It's a contagious smile, and Brendan finds himself returning it.
"Because I believe in you," Aisling says simply. Then, quick as lightning, she kisses him on the cheek and his heart skips one or three beats. His first kiss…
She leans against his shoulder and Brendan, for the first time, puts an arm around her.
Bí ann, bí liom (Be there, be with me)
Bí gasta, bí cróga (Be quick, be brave)
Bí cliste, bí cinnte (Be clever, be sure)
Bí casta, bí glic (Be tricky, be sharp)
"Aisling!"
Turning back at what sounds like a hiss of some kind, he sees his friend slump to her knees; that horrible, otherworldly wind drones in his ears and sends a creeping dread into his heart. He rushes to her side and unclasps his cloak, draping it around her. He feels the cold emanating from her small frame; not her natural coolness, but an ancient and cruel void that saps Aisling's strength and snaps at the warmth in his hands like the jaws of devils.
"This place is hurting you!" he cries, all but throwing himself around her. "You must go back— I'll find some other way!"
How tiny, he thinks. She has always been smaller than him but Aisling has so much presence and life that she seems somehow bigger than she appears. But now she is so cold, weakened, exhausted, and little that Brendan just wants to leave this awful place behind and spare her of any further pain. She is light enough that he can sweep her up and run away, help restore her vitality.
But he still needs the Eye…
"I… must help you…" Aisling rasps, forcing herself to her feet and out of his hands.
Following her to the blocked entrance, Brendan fears this may be the last time they feel one another's touch. By some miracle she has strength enough to lift the toppled statue above her head and the Dark One within is eager, hungry; the wind becomes a powerful tempest shrieking and dragging him into the howling dark. Aisling stands her ground, even as the inky shadows crawl up her legs.
"PLEASE, AISLING! GO NOW!" Brendan screams against the wind.
"Turn the darkness… into… light."
Bí grámhar, gealgáireach (Be loving, light-hearted)
Bí socair laistigh (Be steady inside)
Bí doimhin ach bí éadrom (And be deep but be light)
Gan teannas ar bith (With no tension inside)
I do chorp, i do chroí (In your body, in your heart)
I do cheann, ins a tslí (In your head, _)
Ina chuireann tú tú fhéin i láthair (In the way which you present yourself)
I pé chomhluadar ina bhfuil tú (In whatever company you happen to be)
She's close enough for him to throw his arms around her in relief but something possesses him to keep his distance. Staring unblinkingly at him, her lupine shape is large and majestic in the snowy forest, beautiful and frightening, like a spirit of winter.
Gently she pushes the last blank page toward him with her nose and he takes it, feeling her breath on his skin. No words to exchange; or plenty of them, but his voice fails him when it matters most— you're alive, I'm so happy to see you, where did you go, what happened to you—
"Aisling?"
—I love you.
Aisling stops and looks him over before leaping out of sight, the mist trailing after her. Brendan swears he could see her smile knowingly.
Bí ann liom (Be there for me)
Bí láidir il-dána (Be strong and be able)
Nuair a chasann an domhan (When the world takes a turn)
Bí ann dom (Be there with me)
Agus buailfimid le chéile (And we will meet together)
Nuair a thagann an t-am (When the right time comes)
Twenty years.
"I missed you," says Brendan, now a man.
Twenty years of not saying the most important things.
The white she-wolf slinks catlike through the evening mist, eyeing him. Brendan has become tall, strong in body and heart, and wise, having long since conquered his inner demons and rising above his self-doubts. He is beautiful. It reminds her of the time lost since that winter night, and that they will have to make their time together count.
"I never got to say goodbye; that I'm sorry you had to risk so much to help me, or thank you for saving my life… again." Brendan gives a short chuckle at that. "And so many other things besides that… I missed you terribly, Aisling."
The wolf is gone, and Aisling walks through the mist like a dream, restored and whole. She looks older, taller. Even more fair than he remembers. They take slow steps toward each other.
"You really came back," Aisling breathes out, scarcely believing it. Her voice is like a song.
"I came home," Brendan corrects softly.
"I missed you too." She smiles, but her tone grows low and solemn, dragging herself back into some dark tangled time before a young monk and a white cat ventured into her realm; when creatures of the wild were her only companions; a time when all her people were taken away by impenetrable darkness and she was forced to spend who knows how long without the love of a mother and father. There is a loneliness in her eyes he can never hope to understand, and Brendan's heart aches at the thought. "I didn't think you'd…"
("You have no family?"
"Uh… no."
"No mother? …I'm alone, too.")
"I'm sorry I was gone for so long…"
"I don't want to be alone again," Aisling whispers. "It hurts."
"I can fix that," says Brendan, and he pulls her closer and tighter than she's ever held him before. She returns the embrace with renewed strength, afraid he will disappear again if they let go. "I'm home now," he whispers, deep and soothing, and places a gentle kiss through her silvery hair.
Aisling smiles again, and she presses her brow against his.
"I love you."