Cathal didn't know what to say as he watched Sibeal wash her hands in the forest stream, a lock of her chestnut hair dripping softly over her pale, moon-like face. Sibeal closed her eyes and calmly spoke ancient words under her breath, reaching into the ether for some unknown presence. To Cathal, she was a solemn, white barn owl. Beautiful in her solitude. He felt an urge to gently push her cloth hood from her face and stroke the amber pendant holding her robe together at her neck. He remembered Clodagh speaking about Sibeal's cloak in the keep at Sevenwaters to her visiting cousins, Fainne and Darragh. The cloth was embroidered with bees and birds, and interlaced with intricate, Briton designs. It had been part of a larger piece; a dress belonging to Sibeal's grandmaither, Sorcha, the dark Irish beauty of formidable strength and courage who had defeated a great sorceress.
Cathal remembered Sorcha's story, having to choose between two brothers, Simon and Red. He understood the feeling. Clodagh once held him in thrall, causing him to think about her often while sitting on the western wall of the keep in his space of solitude. Her fine, fiery mane, her cheery green eyes and bewitching smile, as she passed him on her daily walk through the forest to ritually tie a cloth to a tree for her mother's safe birthing. Sibeal was stillness to her sister's fieriness. Cathal smiled at the thought.
Sibeal was ripples in a calm pond. She was a tree branch quivering in view of a full moon. A pale, winking star in a clouded sky. Sibeal was like a mountain that would not bow to the driving wind, or crashing tide. Cathal believed her to be very similar to her grandmaither in that respect, possessed of quiet strength and capable of great feats. Tonight Sibeal was all alone. To Cathal, though they shared worlds and the current moment, she belonged only to him in this moment of time. He felt the wind brush suddenly over his muscled forearms. Sibeal looked up, feeling the strangeness of it. Suddenly, Cathal was gazing into the clear, gray depths of Sibeal's eyes. They seemed to change to a warm, ocean blue fringed in gold. Now, they appeared green and hazelnut brown.
Sibeal had felt the unknown presence by the edge of the dark pond for quite some time now, but decided that the Being would unveil itself when it wished, so she meditated and called on the gods for speedy wisdom. For too many days, she had felt the burning hot coals of Cathal's dark, mischevious eyes on her from across the banquet hall during her sister Deirdre's wedding feast week. For too many nights, she had felt his hands running along her untouched, goose-bumped skin in her mind. She felt the memory of those large, long-fingered hands on her body so often now, that she felt she knew his body from experience. To see him thus, alone and scarcely covered in the dusky darkness of Sidhe Dubh lands sent a lightning into her.
Sibeal opted for a worried tone to cover her dismay, "Cathal! What in Brigid's name are you doing here? And why are you dressed so? Is something wrong?"
Cathal moved closer into the dim light of the moors, gazing at Sibeal steadily. As he came into view, Sibeal noticed his lacerated cloak and torn, black tunic. His black leggings were scuffed with dirt, his leather boots muddy from long riding. She noticed the strong muscles on his pale, olive skin through the tears in his shirt. His powerful arms rested tensely on each side, as if to reach out any moment for something close. When she noticed his longed-for hands, she nearly gasped. Sibeal's eyes snapped up to Cathal's face without realization. She stroked the smooth, chiselled planes of Cathal's face with her mind. She wanted to press her eyelids into his sensual, generous mouth. But then their eyes met.
A spark went through both of them, and each felt the shock of it in their bones.
"Sibeal..." Cathal spoke, "Is it not late for you be out on your father's lands? One such as you is far too prized to be left to danger in the darkness."
"I am not afraid of the land in darkness. For as long as the gods walk in step with me, I am safe," she replied.
Cathal walked slowly toward her, circling the dark, viscous pond. Cathal saw in Sibeal's eyes the things she had not said over the banquets, or in passing at the keep. He walked closer to her. "Are you not afraid this is a dream? Or worse, some Fair One come to take you to the world beneath the hills?"
Sibeal shifted slightly, startled by the cryptic words. "Are you not man, flesh and bone? A man meant for my sister, I once thought. For the dark one matches the fiery one's flames, do you not think?"
Now Cathal looked startled. He approached Sibeal warily, a twitch in his cheek.
"Sibeal, you are safe with me. Tell me, do you not know how I have desired you from afar?" He gazed at her full-on now, eyebrows raised, wavy, dark locks falling into his eyes.
At that, she could restrain herself no longer. They embraced then, beneath the stars, their feet meeting in the shallow water, amid smooth rocks and soft moss.
Cathal kissed Sibeal gently, filled with the knowledge of her mystery, and his desire to tap into her unknown depths. He gently pulled aside her cloak and pushed cloth and tousled curls from her eyes. Upon meeting her now slate gray eyes, he softly pressed his lips to hers. She resisted at first, pulling back reflexively, but then her lips parted and he felt her warm to him. Sibeal held Cathal close, stroking his fox's tattoo. When she felt Cathal's warmth assert itself against her own, a moan of electric pleasure, rose-scented and cold, shot through her. Cathal breathed softly into her soft, pine-scented hair, as he felt the pleasure of their loving embrace ravage her, leaving her shaking and helpless in his arms. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Cathal closed his eyes and ran his hands down her face, softly, and over her sloping shoulders with barely disguised disbelief. She felt so wonderful and soft in his arms! So real, after what seemed a lifetime of dreaming.
Amidst the heavy, heated cloud of pleasure enshrouding the two, a warm breeze ran between them, pushing them gently towards the soft, compacted felt Sibeal's wild mane wrapping his face and neck in forest scent. Sibeal's scent. As he moved over her to hold her close, he felt a charged shiver run through her entire body, and she tensed with rigid alertness. Sibeal felt this wanted and unwanted pleasure like a cold, whipping storm on her body. Oh, how she had dreamed Cathal would want her, touch her body with wonder and desire. But how she still desired to live with the voices of the gods in her ears, along a path of light and truth. Could she have both her calling and her man?
When Cathal lightly caressed cheeks and lips with his face, Sibeal knew that now nothing mattered but this moment. Nothing could have parted her from him, save Cuchalainn's rage. Cathal half-smiled in the darkness, in response to her calm, shaky sigh of pleasure. She was willing, and he wanted her. Their heartbeats synchronized, matching the bodhran's drum of their mingled intensity.
"Please..." Sibeal breathed, her hair fanned out around her on the leaf-strewn ground.
"Sibeal, I want you in every way. Give me your love, and I will give you my self. My heart and soul. I have wanted you for so long, I do not know patience. For this, I am sorry."
He moved to alight from her body. Sibeal gazed at her strong, loving man, knowing how he had pined for her. How he had ridden hard through the forest to find her, and make sure she was safe. She walked to him and laid a gentle hand on his back, feeling the tense muscles knot under her touch in self-restraint. He let out a shaky sigh and turned to face her. She kissed him urgently and pulled him to her. He stroked her face softly, looking into her eyes. She nodded and he pressed closer, melting his liquid gold love for her into her skin. They rocked back and forth, holding each other, the moon's light caressing their sweet bodies in an ethereal light. As the intensity grew stronger and it became harder to breath and focus on their surroundings, Sibeal heard a golden sound, and felt a shaking, vibrating pleasure emanate from her. She buried her face into his warm neck and hair, stroking his strong, hard back and his unshakable chest, kissing his sweetened mouth with the sugary delight of her desire. It was almost pain that crippled Cathal, he felt too much. Pleasure, desire, shock, and love mingled between the both of them as they pressed close and moved together in the darkness. When she cried out her last, her body racked in spasms of delight, he pushed once more, deep into her very soul, expelling all of his frustration, his pain, and his love for her, as the rain fell over them in heavy droplets, cleansing the area of the magic it had witnessed. They lay still, mingled in each others arms, in softening earth, in moonlight and rain. Cathal held Sibeal to him as strongly as he could, and Sibeal held to him weakly, so spent was she from pleasure.
"You are mine Sibeal, and I am yours. We will not be parted from this moment, for I will follow you wherever your path takes you." Cathal moved a strand of her hair from her face, and looked into her eyes. She was cold and pale, but her irises were shining, and there was a determined quality to her features, though she was weak and shaking.
"If you will follow me to ends of the earth, fight along side me, share your life with me, in joy and sorrow, I will have you Cathal."