~Prologue~
O the prickly bush, the prickly bush,
It pricked my heart full sore; If ever I get out of the prickly bush,
I'll never get in any more
-refrain, The Maid Freed from the Gallows Pole
The once-verdant lands had already turned. The meadow grasses waved their brittle blades, patchwork green stained crimson as the droves of cattle were slaughtered under the setting sun. Their bovine bleating filled the air—a distinctly inhuman noise that eventually grew silent but for the crackle of ash and smoke. It was a foreboding quiet, one which also served as a warning to those villagers who still wandered about, their safety dwindling along with the waning light.
Hidden within the Cave of Cruachan, a group of Sidhe watched the proceedings with ill-concealed glee.
Their leader smiled. "Samhain is almost upon us, my disciples. The Westerly Wind is particularly strong." He straightened, his bony fingers curling around the ridges of his staff as he sniffed the acrid air. "Fuil nan sluagh. The conditions for the Hunt are auspicious, indeed."
"Such fools these mortals be." Hux sidled up to Snoke, his movements flowing with a deadly grace. His face was delicate, and his eyes as green as the hills which dotted the countryside by the sea. The copper strands of his hair were brushed with gold, and although he was once considered beautiful, his looks were now distorted by centuries of disdain.
"Pathetic and weak," he added. "As if their dwellings could protect them from our bidding and our breaths."
Kylo looked at the leader of the Cú Sídhe. "We were all mortal once, Hux."
Hux turned quickly. "You are soft, Kylo, too much so. Your lingering sentiments and sympathy for their mortal coil have made you weak." He pointed to the meager offerings which littered the land along with the raging bonfires. "Look for yourself. Every year brings a smaller sacrifice. It is a pittance, especially when compared to the copious gifts they bestow in the midsummer to Aine."
Kylo listened to the thundering sea in the distance as its waves crashed, tearing away at the earth. The air surrounding him roiled, the force of it flattening the grass and bending the trees.
"You know the harvest was meager this year, leaving their livestock barren and dry." He clenched his fists and took a step towards Hux. "Yet you bait me. Are you questioning my dedication to the Sluagh?"
"Enough!" The word was hissed, but the threat behind Snoke's censure was enough to cause both Kylo and Hux to still.
"Kylo. You are the most promising Spirit Master I've come across in nearly a hundred years. Your ability to command an army of mortals to do your bidding is nothing short of exceptional. Yet Hux also has a point." Snoke stared at the landscape before him and frowned. "It is true that the people seem to show a favoritism towards the Light and Love, and for the Goddess Aine." He gave Kylo a warning glance. "They need to be reminded of our strength. To understand that we are equally as important to the state of their world."
"What they need to be is punished for their inconsideration," Hux declared.
Kylo shook his head. "They already fear us. What they need to learn is respect."
Snoke watched Kylo curiously. "Perhaps Hux is right, my Spirit Master. Perhaps you are growing soft."
Kylo shivered at the triumph in Hux's eyes and the silent warning in Snoke's. He thinned his lips.
"I assure you, you've no need to question my dedication. Tonight, I shall lead our army and reap the benefits of a Hunt like no other."
The midnight hour was fast approaching. Most of the humans were already huddled in the safety of their homes, and Kylo could sniff out the heady promise of destruction in the perfume of their despair.
His heart fluttered with excitement as the Veil between the worlds grew thin and his muscles readied for flight. Both Sluagh and Cú would be ready with their poisoned darts and venomous breaths, to clean out the detritus as the earth prepared to sleep. The thrill of the hunt and battle propelled him forward as Kylo let out a fierce cry, his cape pulling around him as he flew into the wind and took to the starless night.
.~OIO~.
"There's not enough milk to last us throughout the night, Finn. Her poultice was applied over twelve hours ago, and the wound is starting to drain anew."
Finn saw the grim look in Rey's eyes as they both glanced at the figure which lay nearly motionless on the tiny pallet.
"Can we try a potato cataplasm?"
Rey shook her head. "'Twould not be as effective for treating her infection as the bread and milk." Rey clenched her fists and stiffened her shoulders as she fought her exhaustion. She and Finn had ignored their own hunger and wounds in an effort to outlast their meager supplies, but it appeared as if nothing—not even their dwindling reserve of clean water—would make it to the morn.
"I can't lose her, Finn," Rey whispered. She felt the unwelcome prick of tears as Finn drew her into his arms. He pressed a chaste kiss on her head and murmured words of reassurance as Rey sank into the comfort of his warmth.
The old woman meant everything to Rey. Maz had provided her with not only hearth and home, but also an appreciation of the ways of the land. She had instructed Rey in the use of the Sail Éille, and encouraged her skills in the martial art of bataireacht.
In fact, it was Rey's proficiency with her fighting stick that had led to her Finn. For several years the region had been cursed by drought and harsh winds, while the normally fertile soil grew heavy with clay. Hunger reigned, spurring unrest. Factions such as Plutt's Gang turned mercenary as they controlled the price and flow of the goods in the market. When Maz had protested the inequitable compensation and questioned their influence, one of Plutt's minions had moved to strike her down.
The Sail Éille was in Rey's grasp, the knobbed ends of the weapon whizzing through the air with a deadly accuracy and speed. Rey had been able to fend off several attackers while waving Maz to safety, but had failed to notice the one who stalked her from behind. He had imprisoned her in his vise-like grip, the silver blade of his scian glinting in the sun. She had seen the triumph on his lips and smelled the bloodlust on his breath as she offered a prayer to the gods and readied herself for his lethal blow.
There had been a whizzing noise followed by the thud of a ga meeting flesh, the dagger striking Rey's would-be executioner fatally in the chest.
"Run!" her rescuer had cried as he grabbed her hand. He had secreted Maz in the back of his friend's cart during the melee, but there was no chance of replicating such an escape now that he and Rey had attracted every curious eye. It was only through the blessings of their youth and speed—and no small amount of luck—that they had been able to evade their assailants, eventually finding cover in the winding limestone passages of a deserted cave.
She soon learned his name. Finn, who was an orphan just like Rey. They were two kindred spirits who were brought together by their loneliness, their sense of justice, and their fate. Over the next several moons, they began pilfering small amounts from Plutt's stores and granting the largesse to those individuals with the greatest of need. Occasionally they would work in tandem, and at other times alone, but never for their personal gain or greed.
Tonight, however...Rey stared at the sheet which covered Maz's bony chest, her heart clenching as she awaited its rise and fall.
"She won't make it without fresh water and another poultice, Finn," Rey pleaded. "And I'd like to collect some barley and a turnip to make a broth. Not just for Maz," she added quickly, noting Finn's narrowed eyes. "For us as well. It's been two days, and we need to eat."
"It's Samhain, Rey. The Army of the Lost Souls have already taken to the skies. Luke has predicted that the Sluagh Sidhe will be particularly fierce during the Hunt tonight." Finn squeezed her hand and pointed to the barricaded entrance which separated their tiny room from the nip of the frosty night. "It would be a death wish to step foot beyond that door."
"And it would be Maz's assured death if we don't." Rey shook her head stubbornly. "The well is less than half a mile away. And Poe's farmstead is close. Unlike most of the cattle in the area, Babette hasn't been milked dry. I can gather all that we need and return within the hour."
"Rey, no. I can't let you do this." Rey's hazel eyes widened at Finn's words; until now, such a refusal had never breached her friend's lips. "I've seen the Sluagh. I know of the havoc they can wreak, of their ability to command the minds of even the most stalwart of men. They thrive on death and destruction, and when the moon is at her fullest such as she is tonight, they are at their strongest. Someone as beautiful as yourself…" Finn's voice trailed. "You are young and full of spirit. To capture you would be their greatest prize."
"Yet I can't live with myself if I don't do something, Finn. If I am to be kidnapped—" Rey sighed, upon seeing Finn's raised brow. "Fine. If I were to die, at least it would be knowing that I did everything I could for those whom I love, rather than choosing to live another day as a coward."
"I'll go instead," said Finn determinedly.
"No. I'm smaller; I know each rolling hill and craggy outcropping in this area with my eyes closed. Besides, you made the run against Plutt last night." She bit her lip, her eyes swimming. "I know that I haven't been pulling my share."
"Hey." Finn tilted Rey's chin in his hands. "Let me go. You haven't slept in days." He threw down his last card. "It's possible that even if I were to be successful, Maz may not make it through the night."
Rey crept over to where Maz was lying on the ground. Her normally tanned skin appeared an ashen grey, the edges of her lips furled and dry. Rey grasped Maz's tiny wrist in the palm of her hand, her heart sinking upon noting its thready pulse.
Finn put a hand on Rey's shoulder. "Rey. I've survived a Wild Hunt before. I'll go, but I need to do it now; the skies grow increasingly large with their numbers at every passing hour."
Rey bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered finally. She wet a cheesecloth and squeezed the last droplets of clean water against Maz's fevered lips.
Finn leaned over. "Take care of Maz."
Rey turned around, giving him a fierce hug. "Thank you, Finn," she murmured, seeking solace in his goodness and warmth.
"Don't forget: keep the windows shuttered and the door closed. I'll see you within the hour." Finn attempted a brave smile, although the wobbling of his voice belied his bravado as he slipped away from the safety of their home and out the door.
.~O~.
The silvered light of the moon slashed through gnarled branches and twisting limbs as the fires burned bright below. Kylo took a deep breath, his thick lips pulling wide into something resembling a grin.
When he had been a mortal, those very lips adorned a face decorated with tanned skin and a cocky smile. From an early age, Kylo had been told he was someone special—a powerful combination of strength and spirit that made him attractive to both the Dark side and the Light.
Yet such prodigious talents were often accompanied by the frailty of arrogance. The young man had dared to tempt fate by walking the land long after the sun had set on Samhain's Eve. The Aos Sí had descended upon the hapless youth, and Kylo soon discovered that his prowess was no match for the destructive power of an army of Sluagh Sidhe.
It was only because of Snoke that he was spared. The cunning leader had recognized the potential in Kylo despite the young man's hubris. In the twenty years since, Kylo had risen to become Snoke's most trusted Sluagh, standing alongside Hux, a Hell Hound and the leader of the Cú Sídhe.
It had been nearly two decades filled with destruction—of embracing death, and of wreaking vengeance on the world's transgressions. Kylo's once-tanned skin turned pale. His lips were no longer curved upwards but pressed into a tight line, his soft brown eyes now yellowed and flinty with purpose. Mortals fled at his cries or cowered at his feet, and with each passing year, his understanding of them grew less and less.
Kylo flew, his form swooping and diving predatorily through the sky. The Cavalcade had already paved the way, gathering a large number of the sick and weak. Hux and the rest of the hounds had also amassed their own impressive bounty; the discovery of changelings in their midst caused the homes of the village to grow loud with the sounds of loss and grief.
The ember of his mortal soul which still resided within him never failed to flicker just a little bit brighter at the sound of a mother's sorrow. In the recesses of Kylo's mind, it tickled the memory of his own family's frantic cries—of his mother's distress as he was snatched up by the Sluagh, of her frantic pleas as she watched his body disappear into the night. Although the recollection of Leia's face and touch had since faded into something nebulous, the keening desperation of heartache never failed to stir what little sympathy remained.
Still, the Sluagh's role was necessary. Kylo frowned; their army had been ruthless, showing little mercy as the spoils from their victories grew. Snoke had demanded it, not only for the pleasure of the Hunt, but as recompense for the paltry offerings bestowed upon the Sidhe on such a holy night.
Kylo was startled from his musings when he spied a figure crouched behind the reeds. Although the man was quick, Kylo's senses were quicker. He watched in outrage as the man crept towards the entrance of the quiet farmhouse, stopping on the doorstep and looking over the food which was left on the plate. The thief bypassed the small bit of lamb for the turnip. The flesh of the root had been carved into a garish face; the fact that it represented the seats of mortal souls did not deter the thief, who barely blinked as he pocketed it into his sack.
A fury swept over Kylo at the flagrant show of disrespect. He clenched his fists and swooped down, his raven locks flying behind him ferociously as he hurtled towards the ground. His body reveled in the stench of blood and decay, and the sounds of wicked laughter as denizens of the netherworld ran amok. He inhaled, his nostrils filling with the scent of the Earth as he let out an angry shriek.
Kylo could denigrate this thief with nothing more than a mere flick of his wrist; he could take the human's mind and spirit and twist it to his whim until he too joined the ranks of the Sidhe. Yet such a bold transgression against the most feared of the fairies should never have taken place. Kylo would make an example of the man—would punish him, then demonstrate to all others the consequence of such insolence.
He noted with a grim satisfaction the moment that the man grew aware of Kylo's descent. The human's breaths grew fast as his eyes widened and his body broke out into a cold sweat. Kylo laughed, playing upon the man's fear as he gave way to the chase. It was only when the darkness faded to grey and the pink of the sun peeked up over the horizon that Kylo tired of the game, ending it by snatching the exhausted man into his unyielding grip.
With a triumphant laugh, Kylo surged towards the skies.
.~OIIO~.
Something was wrong.
Rey woke with a start. She lifted her head; an iciness crept over her once she noticed the light that peeked between the shutters, no longer ink-stained but pale with the impending dawn.
"Finn," she breathed. She ran out, brushing aside the remnants of soot and smoke. Finn's satchel lay amongst the reeds, hastily discarded with a disfigured turnip and a handful of barley and bread spilling from its mouth. A sudden movement drew her attentions to the heavens as a black shape flew overhead, carrying Finn's limp form under its wings.
"Rey?"
"Poe!" His name escaped her in a strangled gasp as she gestured towards the now-empty sky. "Finn's gone. We'd run out of supplies; he set out to fetch us fresh water and food, and was kidnapped by the Sluagh during their Hunt." The tears flowed freely, unable to be dammed in her exhausted state.
Poe lay a steady hand on Rey's shoulder and eyed Finn's satchel. "Are those the things he collected?" When Rey nodded, Poe's tone brokered no nonsense. "Give them to me. I'll bring these to Maz and keep watch. In the meantime, head over to the temple which faces Sceilig Mhór and ask for the druí Luke." Poe's brown eyes were firm. "If there's any way of bringing Finn back from the clutches of the Sluagh Sidhe, the old priest will know."
.~O~.
The Druid's eyes were blue— not quite as intense as the churning waters which battered the jagged outline of Sceilig Mhór, but more vibrant than the pallid sky that embraced the winter sun. The creases in their corners deepened as he listened to Rey's tale until one particular detail caused them to shutter closed.
"Tell me again, my child. The Sluagh that made away with Finn. Were you able to catch a glimpse of his features? What were your impressions of him?"
"It happened so quickly," Rey said apologetically as she spread her hands. "But the Sluagh was tall. With hair as black as night, and skin as pale as the moon. He wore a cape that billowed and flowed like the feathers on a raven's wing." She closed her eyes as she envisioned the scene in her mind, and her voice took on a breathless tone. "He was powerful; he carried Finn as if he weighed no more than a sack of meal, guiding him through the air with the greatest of ease."
Rey's voice trailed as a painful expression crossed Luke's face. Her face flushed; she must have seemed a besotted fool, is breá bhuail. She hastened to correct her error, upon which Luke had raised his hand.
"No, my child. The distress I feel is not for the reasons you think." He turned, his tanned robes swirling behind him as he stared out towards the sea. "I know this Sluagh of whom you speak. He is persuasive and formidable. A compelling and very powerful force, indeed."
An awkward silence settled over them. Rey's face felt hot and dry from the glare of the sun. She shifted uncomfortably, the ground beneath her hard and unforgiving as she rocked forward on her blistered feet.
Luke let out a long sigh before returning to her side. "It would be no act of mercy should Finn retain his mortal form. The Sluagh are not known for their compassion; if Finn has not yet joined their ranks, then it is because they believe there is something better to be gained.
"No amount of pleading will move them. They are predatory and avaricious, and delight in displays of power and fear. Finn's only hope would be if we were to offer his captor something even more enticing in his stead. Depending on the Sluagh's desires, it could be the sacrifice of a cherished belonging, or of one's honor, or even of one's soul.
"Round up as many of your friends as you can. Tell them to bring something of great meaning with them as a potential offering to this Sluagh Sidhe. I will do my best to plead for his audience. Whomever is willing to assist must come the temple tonight, before the sun has taken its last breath."
Rey nodded her assent, her legs carrying her rapidly over the hilly terrain despite the aching in her feet.
If she had stayed but a minute longer, she would have noted the slump which overtook Luke's posture and the shaking in his shoulders as he began to silently weep. If she listened closely, she may have been able to catch the word which slipped out from his lips before it was chased by the wind.
Ben.
.~O~.
They were a motley crew, gathered at the foot of the temple as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, turning the sky a vermillion red. They had little to offer in the way of monetary worth, and what little they did was already lost to the offerings of the night before.
So they brought with them their most meaningful possession, and with that, a fragment of hope.
Rey pulled her thin, woolen cloak closer around her. She had nothing to speak of in the way of material goods, so she was prepared to offer the Sluagh the only thing that she could.
Darkness descended. The wind surrounding the temple grew, whipping the grass which framed the circle of stones and stoking the fires that burned inside the temple's urns. Luke approached one of the bullauns and poured a small amount of milk into its shallow curve.
Saor mi bho olc,
Saor mi bho lochd,
Bairig domh neart,
Stiuir mi 'na d' cheart,
Stiuir mi 'na d' neart*
It was mere minutes before a shadow fell across the stones, its shape flickering rapidly in the growing flames. Finn's bedraggled figure dangled in front of the Sluagh—shaken, but still very much alive.
A tidal wave of emotions flooded through Rey. Relief was replaced by anger. The spirit was both loathsome and compelling; the fact that such evil could exist with a beauty so unique and dark was wreaking havoc with her thoughts.
Kylo's eyes swept over the crowd. He dismissed those who had gathered with a cursory glance, although his eyes lingered briefly on Rey. Despite their yellow color and cold appearance, his scrutiny caused her to warm furiously from beneath the safety of her cloak.
"You summoned me on a day on which I should be enjoying the spoils of the Hunt. Yet your proposal of a trade has me intrigued." Kylo's eyes narrowed. "What do you have left to offer after Samhain's Eve, I wonder? For even on the holiest of nights, there was hardly anything worth my while."
"Have mercy on us, Kylo." Rey startled upon hearing Luke address the Sluagh so. "It has been a difficult season. The people have given nearly all they had, leaving little for their own needs to survive." He nodded at Maz. "Several were lucky to have lasted the night."
"So you say. Yet you still have something left to give." Kylo's otherwise handsome face twisted in anger. "The oblations which you bestow on Snoke and our kind pale in comparison to those which you shower upon Aine. It has not escaped our notice. And then I find this thief taking what was rightfully ours." Kylo swept his hand through the air, the forceful movement causing Finn to fall to the floor.
Rey clenched her fists. Her hand slipped into her pocket, gripping the handle of her sgian-dubh, the blade readily sliding from its sheath. Only Poe's restraining touch prevented her from rushing the Sluagh as her feet shifted forward on their own accord. As she fought to control her anger, she missed the faint smile which curled at the corners of Kylo's lips.
"Finn is a good man, Kylo," Luke protested. "He is an important member of our village. Without his contributions, we would have nothing left. You and the rest of the Sidhe would have nothing in return.
"This is not Finn's time. Will you at least listen to what the others have brought you in trade for the young man's life?"
A curious look flashed between Kylo and Luke. The Sidhe towered over the older man for an uncomfortable minute, before gracing the group with a shrug.
"To listen is all that I promise." Kylo's eyes took on a wicked glint. "It would be extremely foolish of you to have summoned me, just to waste my time. You would not want to face my wrath twice."
Poe straightened and walked towards Kylo, bringing with him a roan on a lead. The cow's coloring was famed around the village, its uniqueness matched only by her sweet disposition and the richness of her milk. Poe's cart trundled behind, its wooden wheels protesting the rocky soil and kicking up a line of dirt.
Poe stood before Kylo. The cow lifted her head, her large eyes gentle and trusting.
"I offer in trade for Finn's life my cow and my cart. Babette is loyal and dependable, and has blessed our village for many years with her milk. Hers is the sweetest to drink, the creamiest to cook with, and makes for the most flavorful Beara Blue." Poe's voice grew hoarse, but steadied after locking eyes with Finn.
"My cart is the base of my livelihood, and Babette is the most important thing I own. I offer you both of these things, in exchange for Finn."
Kylo showed little signs of being moved. "I have little use for your cow. I have no need for her milk, or meat. In a previous life, perhaps..." He paused, looking thoughtful before continuing, "but now it is upon the souls of men that I feed. And as for that pitiful excuse which you use for transport..." Kylo sneered as he looked at the battered cart, his voice dripping with disdain, "it is of no use to me. I fly through the night, alongside the wind and in keeping with the moon. Your sacrifice cannot compare with the satisfaction I shall receive from punishing your friend for his transgressions."
Poe stepped back, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He prepared to turn the cart around when a creaky voice piped up from its bed.
"Wait," Maz gasped. "I have an exchange to offer of my own." Her eyes, previously heavy-lidded from weakness and ill-health, now shone unnaturally bright.
"I know of you, Kylo Ren. And I know you remember me as well. You know of my talents, of my gift of sight and the art ofbataireacht. I have led a happy and pure life. Would it not be tempting to take me in the place of this young man? To capture my soul—a soul which was dedicated to good, and turn it into something unrepentant? To convert the Light to the Dark, to rebuild a pietist into a sinner?"
Kylo huffed out a laugh. "You think you know me, old woman. Although such an exchange may have pleased me in the past, your soul, while content, is hardly young or healthy. In fact, I anticipate that you are not long for the mortal world, in which case your sacrifice—albeit willing—is moot. With the numbers we have captured on Samhain, I've no need to trade a youthful and healthy soul for one which will soon cross over the Veil. Your trade is worthless to me."
"Kylo." Luke stepped forward. "Please consider the exchange from both sides. None of those who are gathered here take their sacrifices lightly. They are offering the essence of who they are in exchange for this young man's life. Surely the weight of what they are giving you is greater than the soul of a single man, when you yourself have said that you had collected so many the night before."
"He stole from us!" Kylo spat. "Not only did he have so little regard for our power that he sought to venture out unprotected as our army filled the skies, but he took from the pittance your village had bestowed upon us in exchange for our hard work. Those were supposed to be offerings of respect. Offerings to the Gods!"
Luke raised his hand, his expression calm despite the intensity of Kylo's fury.
"I offer to build you a new place of worship. Larger than any other, in the name of Lord Samhain, yourself, and Snoke. On the highest point in the land, with stones that trace the paths of the moon and reflect the lines of the stars."
Kylo sneered. "The villagers could not demonstrate the proper respect with the reapings of their harvest. I shall not hold my breath for the empty promise of a temple." His look turned thoughtful. "If you were to offer me the Ritual Sword, however... "
Luke's face turned ashen. "I—I can't. You know that the sword belongs to all the Gods. If I were to give you this..."
Kylo's lips thinned. "Then forego next year's Beltane."
Luke gaped at the request. "This is a community whose livelihood depends on farming! To do such a thing would be to jeopardize their future, not to mention that of the livestock and the land!"
"Yet you think so little of the roles of the Sluagh that you would ask me to forgive one who has shown us such insolence. I tire of this conversation." Kylo said aggrievedly, dismissing Luke with a wave of his hand.
"Kylo. We do not treasure the gifts of Aine over those of the Sluagh Sidhe. Everything is about balance."
"You, of all people, dare to speak to me about balance?!" There was an unaccountable fury rising in Kylo's tone. "I am done with you, old man."
"Will you listen to this one, then?" A figure stepped out from behind the shadows. He was tall—nearly as tall as Kylo, and though his hair was as grey as the fog which hugged the coastline and his features wrinkled with the passage of time, there was no denying that he was still a very handsome man.
"Ben."
The name caused the Sidhe to start. A look of confusion crossed his face, followed by a flash of anger and an intense glow in the yellow in his unnatural eyes.
"It has been a long time, Han," Kylo hissed.
"Nineteen years, seven months, and sixteen days, to be exact." Han took a step forward. "And I've never stopped missing you for a single one of them."
The lines in Kylo's mouth pulled tighter. "Your regret meant nothing to me nineteen years ago. It means even less to me now."
Han ignored Kylo's jibe. "I've brought someone. Someone whom you used to love." His voice hitched as he brought out a gorgeous peregrine falcon. She perched on his arm, her legs tapping back and forth several times as she flapped her pointed wings and settled into place.
"She's still the fastest flyer around these parts, Ben. Still loves to dive and swoop like no other."
Kylo nearly reached out to touch the majestic bird. Although ancient, she had always been powerful and swift. Many years ago, when he was still human, the bird's skill as she took to skies was something which never failed to make his heart ache.
He had often wondered what it was like, to have such control over one's prowess yet feel so free. It was a longing that was later surpassed by a seething jealousy and resentment towards his father's affection for the bird, and for the time the falconer had spent away from home as he pursued quarry for nobility around the world.
Kylo's eyes narrowed. "There is nothing you could offer me, old man, that I would ever consider taking in trade. In fact, I grow weary of this entire scene." Kylo drew his cloak around him and reached out towards Finn. "The lot of you have nothing of value. A punishment shall be forthcoming. A lesson must be taught." He smiled cruelly at Finn. "Only four people have come forth to plead for your life. It must be worth less than I had thought." He crouched down, wrapping his feathered cape around him as he prepared to take flight.
"Wait!" Rey's desperate cry tore through the air, the sound of it echoing off the jagged cliffs.
Kylo raked his eyes over her appraisingly as she stepped forward. A feral smile settled on his features despite the stubborn set of her lips, for her threadbare clothing did little to hide her supple lines and curves.
Rey's hand curled instinctively over the hilt of her dagger. "I have a bargain to make." She took a deep breath as Kylo waited. "In trade for Finn's life, I offer to take his place."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Finn's eyes rolled wildly as he fought his stuporous state.
"Rey, no!"
Rey ignored her friend's protest and continued to speak. "I don't have much in the way of worldly goods, but what I do have is a strong sense of self. I've lived my life holding fast to my morals and, like Finn, have always tried to be guided by the good in my heart.
"I am young. I am strong, I am healthy. I am..." Rey hesitated, searching for the right words to say. "I am pure, including in the ways which are important in the minds of certain men." She jut out her chin. "I believe it was this type of soul that the Sluagh considered the sweetest to take."
A primal instinct flooded through Kylo at the thought of possessing such innocence and beauty. Whether such want was the result of his Sidhe nature or a remnant of his human desires, he did not care. He took one step forward and then another until he stood, hovering over the girl.
He stared into her eyes, his fingers brushing over her chin. He inhaled her scent, marveling at the hint of grass, and the clean softness of the earth.
"And you would give yourself to me willingly?"
Rey nodded. There was no mistaking the hunger in Kylo's eyes, for she had heard the stories of the proclivities of the Sidhe.
"I give you my purity. It is mine to do with, how I wish. But know this: I am not defined by my chastity, but by my beliefs. By my knowledge of what is right and wrong, and the way in which I use that knowledge to make the choices in my life. It is through such actions that I've earned the love of others, and thereby define my own worth.
"So yes, I sacrifice myself to you willingly. Because so long as I hold fast to own my free will, you shall never rid me of my self-respect."
Kylo closed the distance between them eagerly, all thoughts of retribution evaporating as he placed a hand around Rey's waist.
"You won't be needing that," Kylo whispered into her ear as he pulled the dagger out of her grasp. He released Finn, who sank with a heavy thud against the ground. With a triumphant smirk directed towards the dismayed crowd, he gathered his prize in his arms and disappeared without another word.
.~OIIIO~.
They landed near the pinnacle; its sandstone ground lay mostly bare, with the exception of the occasional tuft of grass and a stray gannet's nest. A cloud flitted over the moon, but even in the dimming light there was no mistaking the jagged peaks, or the thrashing ocean, or the fires which lit the coastal village of Baile an Sceilg in the distance.
Sceilig Mhór. Rey winced. The island's unforgiving terrain and location made any hope of escape futile. She huddled instinctively against Kylo's large form, her traitorous body sighing in pleasure as his bulk shielded her from the onslaught of the fierce wind.
He waved his hand, temporarily quieting the gusts. As he reacted to the weight of her body against his, his eyes gleamed with interest.
"You offer yourself so freely," he mused. Rey shifted under his stare. "Yet you are unquestionably pure and innocent." He tilted her chin, looked into her eyes and frowned. "Why would you sacrifice your life for that of a thief?"
"A thief in name but not in heart," Rey hissed, "who is no better nor worse than I. If you thought my soul to be pure, than Finn's would be the same. For I have done as he, for more times than I would care to count."
"But if you are the same, then why sell your soul for his?" His deep voice turned seductive; he leaned in and practically purred, his large hand resting against the crook of her hip. A warmth spilled through her, the feeling at odds with her contempt.
"Because he is my friend!" Rey cried out, partly in anger, and partly in frustration at her unbecoming thoughts. "Because it should have been me!"
"He is an apostate!" Kylo roared. He didn't want to think about why her defense of the man angered him so.
Despite the biting cold, Rey pulled away from Kylo, furious. "Was it not enough that we'd already given you what little we had? The surfeit cannot sustain most families through the remainder of winter." Her eyes stung from the salty air which surrounded them as her tears trailed hot against her skin.
"The past several months have not been kind. The soil was dry, our crops weak, our livestock sickly. Yet the merchants' demands grow greater still, even as our supplies diminish while the number of their enforcers increase. Yes, Finn and I stole, but only to give our neighbors what they so desperately needed."
"He took not from the vendors, but from what was apportioned to the Sluagh!"
"Do you honestly believe that we would have chosen to leave the safety of our home during the height of the Hunt, or that Finn would have taken that sad turnip, had we any other choice?!"
"There is always a choice. Isn't that one of the virtues of humanity? It just turns out that your friend made the wrong one."
"The alternative would have been to let Maz die! Why must you see everything in absolutes? You and your kind are despicable; you thrive on fear and power, in order to get what you want!"
Kylo smirked. "You dare to preach to me about seeing things in absolutes, yet you see me and the work I do as nothing but evil. If the Sluagh did not overtake the humans through force, how many do you think would voluntarily give themselves up to join the ranks of the Dead? You yourself could not bear to see a woman who had already lived out the majority of her life, make that final crossing through the Veil.
"If not for our efforts, the population would begin to exceed that for which the land could provide. Already you see the effects of the imbalance that results from the favoritism your village shows Aine. You celebrate and glorify her gifts, while casting aspersions on ours. You dance and laugh on Beltane, while you cower and slaughter on Samhain. You bequeath her with milk from a mother's bosom and cloak yourselves in the fragrance of apple blossoms, while you leave us with the remnants of your dinners and the pungence of sage. And to what end? Until the number of humans and cattle exceed that which can be sustained by the earth, so that it fairly bursts at the seams?"
Kylo's eyes glittered, the rims of his irises glowing yellow and brown, circling an inky black.
"So if you are asking for my understanding, perhaps you should first look at yourself. For I doubt that you've any understanding of the importance of the Sluagh Sidhe. Reflect on why you consider us as Underfolk, the lowest of the fae. Think of how your disdain belittles us, and what it means to me."
The roughness in his voice startled Rey. She recalled the flare of emotion which had burst forth during his dealings with Han, and wondered what lay behind it. She reached out boldly, causing him to flinch in response as he witnessed the touch of her hand.
"You knew many of the people who gathered there tonight," she murmured. "Particularly the falconer. He had called you Ben."
"Ben is dead," Kylo said curtly. "The man whom you speak of has a problem with letting go of the past."
"Who is he to you?" Rey asked. Han was a mysterious figure—a brilliant falconer, but also a loner and a drifter. On those rare instances where Han would flash his cocky smile, the laughter never seemed to reach the weariness around his eyes.
It was the same haunted look in Kylo's eyes which caused Rey to start. She stared at the set of his mouth—at the shapeliness of his lips, and the way in which those pale lines could curl at their corners to form a smug smile. She recalled Kylo's movements and quiet power, so reminiscent of Han's dangerous and deceptively casual grace.
"You're related to Han."
Those golden eyes shuttered.
"He was my father. In another life."
Rey shook her head. "I saw the way he looked at you. You still are, in his eyes."
"Then why did he never act as one when I was mortal?!" Kylo shouted. His face twisted with a mixture of hurt and fury which caused Rey's heart to clench. "He was never home. If not for his constant absence, I may not have been forced as a child to assume the mantle of a man. If I were not made to assume a strength and maturity beyond my years, then perhaps I would never have been so arrogant as to tempt the Sluagh and the Fates."
Rey's mouth gaped. "So you were no different than Finn—"
"Do not dare to compare me with your friend. I was not a thief." Kylo stared at Rey, his eyes now glowing yellow against the white of the moon. "Han was not the only person who knew me in my human form. I was a student of Maz and Luke's." He leaned over Rey, the size of his body looming over hers, causing a faint blush to stain her cheeks. He reached out with his hand and slowly traced the curve of her neck, before lingering on the dip in her collarbone and the swell of her chest.
"I can tell you are a fighter," he murmured, the current of air from his breath hovering between them and lingering on her cheek. "The lines of your body and your stance, your scrutiny of your surroundings all but proclaim it. Maz was always a fine teacher." He smirked at Rey's shocked expression. "Didn't you know? I was one of her prized pupils."
Rey felt trapped, caught somewhere between the strength of Kylo's body, the cold earth, and his magnetic pull. "And Luke?" she whispered.
Kylo lowered his hand, his palm resting against the bone of her hip. She shuddered as his fingers curled possessively around her thigh. Kylo's jaw tightened, and Rey noted a quiet anger which underlied his words.
"Also my teacher. As well as my uncle."
She leaned towards him, fascinated despite her circumstance. "The Druids celebrate balance in the world," she said softly. "The Dark and the Light. Male and female. The Mortal and the Otherworld. Samhain itself is but a passage, hovering between Summer and Winter. How did you, who were brought up with people valuing balance and the Light, become such a powerful force amongst the Sídhe?"
"As a child, I was thought of as someone special. As one whose alignments ran parallel to the mortal and the supernatural with skillsets from the sun and the moon, and who had the potential to bridge two seemingly discordant worlds."
Kylo shifted and sighed. "Perhaps it was my gifts themselves which set me on this path. My mother and Luke were also gifted but they were hesitant to allow me to explore the different facets of my skills, preferring that I stay on the side of the Light. I was angry and impatient…and, admittedly, a bit arrogant. I felt like they were denying a part of me; that somehow, there was a part of me that was wrong. That I was somehow deficient."
Kylo suddenly appeared young and vulnerable. His face was pale from living under the gaze of the moon, his lips as full and deeply pink as the saxifrage in spring. He was proud, yet filled with an overwhelming sadness and loneliness that made Rey long to reach out and soothe him with her touch.
"I was told I had a powerful and special gift, the likes of which had not been seen in well over a generation. When I decided to brave the dangers of the Wild Hunt, I was convinced that those very powers would keep me safe." He glanced at Rey, down at her hand which lay a hairsbreadth from his chest. "They did, but not in the way I had previously thought. Snoke had seen within me my fullest potential—of the Dark side, as well as the Light. When I left the mortal realm to join the ranks of the Sluagh, I had done so not as a minion of their army, but as a disciple of Snoke's."
Rey caught an acrid whiff of mountain ash and the sharpness of Scots pine as she leaned in. The years dissolved as Rey rested her hand on Kylo's chest; it lay expansive and cool beneath her touch, bereft of the pulse of a human heart.
Kylo bridged the distance, his nostrils flaring as he smelled the wind in her hair and the piquance of sweetgrass on her skin. It tugged at something deep within—feelings he had long thought dead—as he pulled her into his arms.
"Your world is mine but for only one night of the year," Kylo whispered. "Yet what we do prepares the Earth for months, as it readies for the Spring. Death as well as Earth's slumber are necessary for her rejuvenation. It is not solely because of Aine's gifts that you reap the benefits of fertile wombs and fecund fields, but because of the work we do as well.
"It is a strange twist of Fate that the same thing which made me appealing to the Sluagh may be the thing which takes me away. There is great unrest amongst the Sidhe, due to the emphasis which your village shows towards matters aligned with the Light. Snoke is concerned that the Sluagh have not been given their due respect. The leader of the Cu Sidhe has also been fueling his dissatisfaction, directing the blame for the poor showing on me.
"Your friend needed to be punished. What he did was not only foolish, but a flagrant show of disrespect. If I did not demand some form of retribution, the penalty which Snoke and Hux would enact would be a hundred times worse." He shuddered. "Though now in my past, this land and the people on it were once a part of me. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing the last vestiges of my former life destroyed."
"Kylo." Rey moved closer, sinking against him until their bodies molded together, pale on tan, hard on soft, Death against Life. "I don't know all which had transpired in your childhood, and I still cannot agree with your assessment of Finn. But you have opened my eyes to things which I had not previously known. I now understand the necessity of what you do as well." She bit her lip; the sun would begin its rise in a couple of hours, and the exhaustion of the day and the turn of events had sapped what little restraint remained.
She took his hand in hers and placed it between her thighs. "I also understand your need for a meaningful sacrifice. Not just as an exchange for Finn's life, but to prevent the further actions of Snoke. I understand, and give myself willingly to you."
Kylo's eyes darkened, the yellow in his irises flickering as they warmed and briefly turned a honeyed brown.
"You would do that for me?"
Rey did not answer, leaning forward instead. Her lips met his; Kylo was momentarily stunned, but as Rey continued her ministrations, he slowly softened under her gentle kiss. She felt his skin, cool beneath her mouth, and when she looked up from beneath her lashes, his complexion—had he been human—would have been filled with a lovely flush.
Kylo looked back, dazed. Rey's understanding filled him with the kind of joy he had once felt upon reaching the tops of the cliffs, from where he was able to gaze upon the beauty of the stars. Her forgiveness was as precious as a mother's love, her rebuke as soft as the fragrant grass which swept the hills each Spring. She was the Light—that part of him which used to exist in equal measure, but which was now nearly extinguished as he grew in servitude to the Dark.
He kissed her back, his tongue slowly tracing the outline of her chapped lips before losing restraint and plunging into her panting mouth. He felt her heart quicken, the nervous fluttering accelerating as he deepened his kiss and slid his hand between her trembling legs. Her eyes grew glazed and half-lidded, the desire in them as unmistakable as the scent of her arousal in the air.
He could have her, to take without consequence all that she offered. He felt the need to indulge in her beauty, to consume her soul as he swallowed her whole. Yet even as she offered herself so willingly with her panting gasps, her small hands winding fiercely around the locks of his hair as her lithe body arched instinctively against his own, there was a small part of him which was reluctant to extinguish her life. To remove her from a world that embraced her Love and Light.
So he kissed her once more—trying to embed within his memory the feel of her skin, the sounds of her sighs, and the curiosity of her touch. He inhaled her sweet, warm breath, and listened to the music of her steadily beating pulse. He let his lips linger over the sweep of her cheeks, before brushing them over her forehead as he murmured an ancient charm. And when Rey's eyes fluttered closed and she surrendered to sleep, Kylo gazed at her slumbering figure and let her go.
Rey awoke with the warmth of the sun, its rays washing over her as the line between her world and the Netherworld grew wider with each passing breath. The distinctive fragrance of a Whitethorn tree scented the air, and it was with a start that she realized that she was no longer on Sceilig Mhór.
An unfamiliar heaviness filled her pocket. She reached in, retrieving her sgian-dubh as well as a handful of berries and fruit. The chimneys in the distance huffed with smoke from the fires which stoked the hearths, and the sounds of wooden carts and awakening voices filled the air. Rey looked down, and her heart ached when she spied Finn's weary and dejected figure in front of Maz's door.
This was her world, the place to which she belonged. As she made her way down the hill the autumn wind whistled, bearing with it a final caress as well as a message from the other side:
Is tú mo ghrá
.~Epilogue~.
Winter set upon the Isle, dusting the ground in a blanket of white. Rey eased her aching body from her pallet before sunrise and grabbed her cloak, making the journey up the hill towards the mound from which the Whitethorn tree sprang. She watched as the stars faded, the remnants of their glow swallowed up by the dawn.
The high tide splattered the coast with its angry and frigid waters. Their changing directions often shifted the distance between the land and Sceilig Mhór, yet during the rare moments of calm everything appeared the same, the balance restored.
Rey opened her eyes as the winter sun warmed her face.
"You are welcome to join me, Finn. You too, Maz."
Finn stepped forward with a sheepish look on his face. He had made every effort to respect Rey's need for privacy since her return. Out of necessity—as well as in an effort to regain some semblance of normalcy—they had resumed their runs against Plutt. Finn had taken on the riskiest jobs at first, in deference to the severe punishment which would befall them should either get caught. He was not about to trade one death sentence for another, especially now that Rey's head and heart seemed to be in a different place.
"Are you okay, Rey?"
She braved a smile.
"I was supposed to be out that night, Finn," she said finally, looking out towards the sea. "When I offered myself at the temple, things were as they should have been."
"The Sluagh. He didn't harm you? Didn't…demand anything of you?"
"No. He returned me here as soon as the sun kissed the sky." Her voice quavered. "Soul pristine and body whole."
Finn stared, watching her expression closely before he finally relented. "Very well." He wandered around a bit, gathering up some of the loose branches littering the ground to use as kindling before pulling Rey into a fierce hug.
"I'll wait for you at the house. We have half an hour before we need to head out towards the nearest checkpoint. Plutt's caravan is scheduled to pull in close to noon." He turned towards Maz, who was watching Rey closely.
"Coming, Maz?"
"Be there in a minute, dear." The old woman took Rey's hand in her own. The knowing touch of a soothsayer flowed from her gnarled fingers as her round eyes saw deeply into Rey's soul.
"The one whom you seek. He was a young man of great promise," Maz said mysteriously. "A true embodiment of the Light and Dark. To be able to let you go as he did shows that he still is." She turned to descend the hill and then stopped.
"You know, Rey. The Sluagh do not only respond to death and destruction. They are also known to respond to the silent hopelessness of one's heart."
.~O~.
Despite their dwindling resources, the population on the Isle continued to grow. Newborns were quickly outnumbered by the elderly and the infirm. The sacred grounds remained empty as the Spirit Master of the Sluagh Sidhe spent his nights wandering, neglectful of his role. Kylo spent his time watching Rey from above, each glimpse of her beauty making him ache in that space which he thought he had given up two decades ago.
The distress and strain on the Earth was enough to turn Snoke's initial anger into a greater concern. The implications for the sustainability and survivability of the small village also worried Aine. So when Luke called upon the Dark and the Light to meet just ahead of Imbolc, midway between winter and spring, the two deities agreed to put aside their differences for the greater good.
Not that the meeting had not been fraught with tension and blame.
Aine cast an accusatory look at Snoke. "Your disciple has disrupted the balance of the order, Sluagh. Such a perilous state has not been seen in over a hundred years."
"Perhaps the fault lies within yourself. As the goddess of Love, can you not see that you have turned him into a besotted fool?"
Aine arched a delicate brow. "Is it love? Or lust?"
Snoke's voice vibrated with resentment. "Kylo Ren was due the girl's unblemished soul in trade. Yet he forfeited the sweetest of bounties when he let her go."
"Perhaps it was foolishness on your part to have brought Kylo Ren into a position of such responsibility so quickly. You already have the assistance of one who could perform these duties: Hux, the leader of the Cú Sídhe. Although Kylo has such glorious potential," and with that thought, Aine's eyes glimmered with jealousy and greed, "perhaps he has too much of both sides within him to be effective in his assigned role. Perhaps he would have been better suited to be with Brigid or Lugh, who work at the midpoints between the Light and the Dark."
Luke looked up at the powerful figures quietly. "Yet things are as they stand. So, Great Ones. What can we do?"
Aine watched Snoke as the normally cruel Sidhe shifted uncomfortably. A vicious satisfaction flowed through her at the thought of his humiliation and failure. Yet Kylo and Rey's story also tugged at her heart. Their suffering was enough to appeal to her softer instincts, and push aside her animosity towards Snoke.
"Perhaps there is a way," Aine conceded. "It can only be done for the strongest of reasons and the purest of intentions, but for those who fulfill the criteria and are looking to straddle the Veil, there is a way."
.~O~.
February turned to March, which slowly wound its way into Spring. The sun's path grew longer and higher as the wind warmed and became perfumed with the scent of tall grass and sweet woodruff. The tide gentled, no longer crashing high against the rocky coastline, but ebbing and pulling out to the sea.
Rey stretched. Despite the imbalance of much of the winter, certain things were starting to look anew. The hills were green, dotted with the hesitant gaits and joyful bleating of lambs and calves and foals. The funeral pyres had begun to burn, bodies and belongings returning to the earth from which they had sprung.
Rey inhaled as the Westerly Wind began picking up speed, spiraling through her lungs and bounding against her chest. The flutter of a cape in the distance captured her attention. Her heart quickened as a figure emerged from the sea, his form tall and body long, his legs strong with purpose.
As he drew nearer, she saw that his skin was pale and eyes narrowed, as if unused to the brightness of the sun. His hair blew gently in the breeze, as lovely and seductive as a raven's wing. Her breath stuttered as he came to stand before her, his lips red and full of promise, and his eyes a warm and gentle brown.
The man took a deep breath. A puff of air, heated by the beating of his heart hovered between them before disappearing into the breeze.
He gazed at her, his face open and expectant.
"Is tú mo ghrá," Kylo whispered.
Rey met him halfway.
"Is tú mo ghrá," she answered as she smiled and fell into his arms.
.~Fin~.