Work Text
Soft Fur & Steady Arms
Too loud.It was too godsdamned loud!The clatter of tableware assaulted her ears like a vicious hailstorm, matched only by the dull roar of the multitudinous voices that echoed through the feast hall. The jovial tune of the court bards, normally a sound that gladdened her heart, seemed to make things more unbearable for the human in the room as she sat throne-side. And through it all, a high-pitched whine began to bite into her skull.Holly did her best to keep her composure, to steady her breathing, to slow the hammering pulse of her heart that threatened to burst from her chest with each ferocious beat.After all, she’d done this before, been here before. Several times, in fact. The Dagda’s Feast was a routine affair, yet always raucous and joyful, as the Unseelie were more prone to letting their hair down so to speak, even in the throne room of their king, which doubled as the feasting hall. A far cry from the stuffy, reserved nobility of their Seelie counterparts. Often, Holly had no issue with the resonant din of the cavernous room as the gaiety of the aes sídhe of Caisleán na nDaoine carried through the castle halls.Yet today, it seemed, was a different story.It was too loud.Too loud to think.Too loud to even breathe.As it often did when her anxiety began to mount, her leg bounced furiously beneath her table as she sat across from Flannán, the stalwart king of Murias.The man who had captured her heart.“Mo ghrá?” His rich voice cut through the noise; his tone laced with concern.Holly flinched reflexively; eyes still downcast, as they had been for the better part of five minutes. Or at least, it could’ve been five minutes. Time seemed to stretch during moments like these, where the world became too much to bear & overwhelmed her senses. Minutes seemed to crawl, becoming hours of agony in her mind.Gaze still intent on boring a hole through the plate before her, she barely registered the king’s presence at her side.“Cuilén,” came his voice in her ear, gentle yet full of worry. “An bhfuil tú ceart go leor?”Holly shook her head vigorously before clutching the sides of her head, face screwed up in discomfort as the tears she had been holding back burst the corners of her eyes. “’m sorry,” she whimpered in a small voice, breath hitching in her throat as she tried to regain it between hiccupping sobs. “’s too loud. ‘s just too loud. ‘m sorry. ‘m so so so so so sorry, Flan!”An understanding hum came from beside her, the king having stooped so that he was at her level.“You have nothing to apologize for, mo ghrá,” he said softly. The click of metal-on-metal pierced the din, followed by the rustle of fabric & fur. “Are you alright with being touched right now, Cuilén? We don’t have to stay if it’s too much for you right now.”“but, th’ feast-,“ Holly started meekly before the redhead gently cut her off.“Will go on whether I am present or not,” Flan reassured her. “Right now, you are what’s most important to me, not some banquet that we’ll hold again on the ‘morrow. Now, again, are you alright with my picking you up right now?”A moment passed between the two of them as Holly’s panicked mind mulled over the king’s words.A rapid nod signaled her assent.“Le do thoil,” she whispered, her overtaxed senses almost to the point of screaming for him to take her away and make it stop.“Alright,” Flan agreed quietly. The familiar weight of his furred cloak settled over her shoulders and almost instantly, she felt a wash of subtle relief seep into her body like a warm bath. Not enough to fully banish her anxiety, but enough to at least grant a modicum of reprieve.The gentle pressure of a calloused hand clasping her shoulder mirrored the cradling arm that hooked under her knees. Without a second thought, Holly leaned up to wrap her arms around her king’s neck, burying her face into his chest.Flan softly shushed in her ear, hoping to reassure her as he effortlessly lifted the whimpering human into a practiced princess carry. His heart broke at each shuddering breath he felt her let out against him, the front of his tunic dampening with her tears. “I’ve got you, mo ghrá.”Holly felt him place a gentle kiss on the crown of the head.“I’ve got you.”The next few moments were a blur for her as Flan carried her towards the quiet safety of his room. The gentle bounce & sway she felt with each step reminding Holly of how her father had carried her to bed when she was a child, that familiar sense of safety and warmth. She barely registered when he stopped to inform Maeve that they would be retiring early this evening, and that she would oversee the feast in his stead.Gradually, mercifully, the cacophony of the throne room faded into the distance, replaced by the sound of Flan’s boots on cobblestone floors & the steady beat of his heart.The creak of his door & the scrabble of nails on stone signaled they had arrived, and that Conrí, Connal, and Cuán rushed to greet them. Tails wagging and smiles of doggy joy plastered across the wolfhounds’ muzzles quickly gave way to whines of concern at the sight of Holly in their master’s arms, ears pricking up at the sounds of her soft whimpers. Shutting the door behind him with a booted foot, Flan strode over to the fur rug before his hearth, already crackling with a steady fire.“Alright, Cuilén,” her king reassured her as he knelt, her feet brushing the soft fur. “Will you be alright to wait here while I start us a kettle?”Holly nodded meekly against his chest, her hair brushing against the skin exposed by the v of his tunic. Slowly, she felt herself lowered to the ground, pulling her legs to her chest as she curled into a ball on the rug. Flan rounded to the front of her, finally drawing her gaze from the floor as she looked up in time to see him lean over and plant a loving kiss on her forehead.“That’s my girl,” he praised softly, a note of pride in his voice.Holly felt a shudder of euphoria quake through her at the combination of the praise and gender affirmation, breathing a quiet sigh through her nose as she began to come down from her anxiety high.The sensation of a warm, wet tongue brushing her fingertips broke the human reverie, turning her head to see Connal sprawled out beside her. The big dog met her gaze with soulful, understanding eyes, an expression in him that told Holly that she was okay, that she was safe. A warm weight settled over her toes, signaling that Cuán had curled up at her feet. Not one to be left out, Conri nestled beside her, nudging the Milesian girl with his head in hopes of receiving affection. She giggled softly, acquiescing to the wolfhound’s demands as she scratched behind his ears, eliciting a series of heavy thumps as his tail wagged against the floor.Soon, the kettle was set over the fire and Holly felt Flan drape his arms over her shoulders, chin resting atop her head as he embraced her from behind.Her body flinched only once in brief surprise at the sudden sense of his limbs as they wrapped around her, of the familiar weight & warmth of his body flush against hers. Even through the thick fur of his cloak, Holly could swear she felt Flan’s body heat radiating through him and into her weary frame.She wanted to wrap herself in that feeling and stay buried in it forever.With a shaky breath, Holly finally managed just enough control over her frayed nerves to coax them into relaxation. Behind her, the king could feel his pup of a Milesian finally slacken in relief, to which he breathed a deep sigh of relief.The rise and fall of his chest against her back helped Holly to steady her own breathing, further breaking the hold that her anxiety held over her thoughts. As with many things since she came to Tír na nÓg, she followed his lead, matching the rhythm of his breath as best she could.Slowly but surely, the world began to come back into focus, and she began to find her footing again. The whine in her ears gradually began to fade; the bounce to her leg had long since ceased; the thunderous pounding of her own pulse in her ears ebbed into a gentle beat; the tears had stopped, the only signs of their deluge but salty streaks down her freckled face and reddened eyes.Breathing through her nose in time with Flan, she took his scent with a deep inhale. His smell always brought her a sense of comfort and peace, and more than once, he had returned from a hunt or delegation to the sight of Holly practically swimming in one of his tunics, the too-long sleeves having rendered her hands into floppy paws. Just like the pet name he’d given her so many months ago when they’d first met. At a quirked eyebrow, she’d stammered out a hasty excuse before coming clean, with a blush that could put the sunset of Murias to shame, that it smelled like him and that helped her calm down.A good memory. A happy memory.A memory that finally banished the dregs of anxiety from her beleaguered thoughts, and Holly leaned back against her king.She was safe.She could think again.She could breathe easily again.“Go raibh maith agat,” she murmured softly.Another soft kiss planted itself at the crown of her head as Flan shifted the two of them a bit, ensuring that she ended up in his lap as he sat cross-legged & he could rest his head in the crook of her shoulder.“Think nothing of it, mo ghrá,” the king reassured her, deep soothing voice in her ear. “After all, what son of Lugh would I be if I failed to rescue a maiden in need?”She giggled slightly at that, a warm smile finally returning to her face in earnest.The two sat like that for a while, heads resting against one another, staring into the hearth’s dancing flames. They both lived for moments like this, where they could retire from their duties to find comfort in each other’s arms, to enjoy the simple pleasure of the other’s company. A balm to soothe soul, mind, and body.It was Holly who managed to break the silence.“Tá brón orm,” she sighed wearily, hanging her head a bit with sullen embarrassment.“For what? The feast?” Flan sounded genuinely befuddled at that, doubly so when she nodded morosely.Holly felt him wrap his arms around her tightly, pressing her back against his warm chest. Almost like he was trying to hug the unnecessary sense of guilt and shame out of her.“Mo ghrá,” intoned the one-eyed king softly, “you have nothing to apologize for in the slightest. Some days are better than others, I understand that all too well. And while I may not suffer the same ills as you, I do not fault you for needing to depart to steady yourself.”He turned her in his lap so that they could be face to face, two brown eyes staring into a pair of pale blue orbs. Flan had removed his eyepatch while he’d been preparing the tea, it seemed, and the two held each other’s gaze a moment before the redhead leaned forward to touch foreheads with his beloved.“You are what matters most to me, Cuilén. The Dagda’s Feast will go on in my absence as it has many times before. My only duty to attend this night is your care, your safety, and your comfort.”Holly felt as though the tears would start anew, though with more joyous a cause this time around.Leaning around his head, she hugged him as tightly as she could, whispers of thanks pouring from her lips into his elfin ears. Flan simply smiled and held her close, reveling in the feel of her in his arms.And there they sat, if only a while longer. The harsh whistle of the kettle over the fireplace greedily stole Flan’s attention from Holly for a moment or so, much to her chagrin. However, all was forgiven when the king returned with two mugs of warm tea in hand, and she was once more pulled into his embrace. Flan had remembered the drops of honey she liked in hers, and the scent of cinnamon that wafted across her nose was downright heavenly.Still, Holly doubted that Heaven could compare to the scene she had found herself in.After all, she’d felt as though she went through Hell to get there.This was her Heaven.A crackling fire, the gentle thrum of autumn rain on the castle roof, a trio of dogs strewn about her feet, a cup of delicious tea warming her hands.And a pair of steady arms to hold her close.