Chapter 3: Once upon a Sleeping Ocean
Jonathan was surprisingly calm as he flew through the chill air, the wind rushing by him in a drunken roar. The world was spinning and he was drowning in it. He felt the marks of the rough hands stain his body with red streaks. Of course the only question on his mind was why he was suddenly flying. Jonathan landed with a great metal clatter of garbage cans, his numb body ignoring the sharp pains one would normally feel. His ears felt flooded, like he was trapped in a cage of water and could only hear the distant mumbling of far-away voices. The corner of his eye dully caught the glance of a man in a doorway, wearing a waiter's apron and presenting some rather obscene gestures with his angry fist that Jonathan thought dimly that only his nephew Alex would every dare to attempt.
"And stay out, you bloody sod!" cried the furious figure, slamming a metal door behind him.
These words barely sunk into Jonathan's mind as he lay sprawled in an array of foul-smelling garbage bags and empty liquor bottles. Alley cats skulking nearby had shrieked with this sudden commotion and were now eyeing him warily. However his eyesight could only make out the silhouettes of the large buildings of the alley in contrast to the velvet web of night, woven with the faintest of stars. His racing heart calmed, and his head sunk lazily into a rather disgusting pile of garbage with a suspicious smell wafting from its depths. He could hear the laughter emerge from the pub that he was so ceremoniously kicked out. The tinkling noises from the Sherries and other such drinks clinking together within their glass cages instantly calmed Jonathan. He saw a woman's face, his love. The earrings he had bought her had tinkled like tiny bells, reminiscent of the soft noises coming from the building. And her laughter, by god, her laughter must have been threaded with the same silk as an angel's cloth. It was there, amidst the foul stench of garbage, yowls of ribbed cats, and the laughing ringing from the bar, was when Jonathan began to think of her, the very image of her comforting him amongst this city horror, his sweet and unearthly Danu.
…………
13 months before, in Ireland:
"Jonnie ol'chap, how've you been you sad littl' bugger?"
A strong brawny hand clapped Jonathan on the back, nearly toppling the lean, wiry body of the surprisingly sober Englishman. Jonathan felt two monstrous arms reach out to give him a friendly bear hug. He instantly swivelled around, dropped his bags against the rickety fence of the entrance to the harbour and placed two hands on the giant's shoulders. Jonathan looked at the man seriously, amusement twinkling in the corners of his eyes.
"First things first, me mate. Hug me again, and those gambling lads that you call friends will be the first to know about that hairpiece I saw you fix when I was on the ferry."
Jonathan's friend was speechless for a moment, before heaving a great Liverpool laugh from his brawny chest and shook Jonathan's hand.
"Deals a deal." This man, a 30-something chap named Will, bent down with a huge smile riddling his pockmarked face to help with the luggage. "So seriously, how've you been? England still as bloody prudish as when I left it?"
A smile twitched in the corner of Jonathan's mouth as they began to walk away from the docks.
"As always. I'm jolly good as usual as well. I've escaped my sister's clutches, how do you think I'm feeling?"
Will paused for a moment, his strides slowing as he reflected on Evelyn Carnahan. A dreamy look emerged on his face from the time he last saw her. Jonathan, however, did not miss this.
"Don't be looking like that, Will. Whenever you think 'bout her, just remember the American."
Will grimaced as an image of the strong muscular gun-toting man emerged in his mind. He knew instantly it was time to move on with the conversation.
"Right'o, shall we get a move on then? I've got a hot date with this new pub that's being opened near the harbour on the West side of town. You're coming of course."
Jonathan looked at him sardonically.
"Did you honestly think otherwise?"
Will smiled, a small hint of relief creeping into his eyes.
"Well, you never know now. Do you remember our old buddy Bill, yea? Well, he's after a maid, a very bonny one mind you, but she has her limits. She told him to stop the drink and to get a real job. I just figured, you know, that you might have a lady friend, and…"
Jonathan immediately interrupted him.
"…yea, yea, yea. Trust me Will, the only place I have for women is late at night along one of the avenues near old Frankie's place. I'm having too much fun to even be thinking 'bout a family an' all that."
Will smiled and swung one of the smaller pieces of luggage at Jonathan, whose attempt to catch it was quite clumsy indeed.
"Glad to hear it mate."
Silence descended down upon them as the grey sky shrouded their very thoughts, almost forcing them to hunch down as though the sky were falling. The seagulls from the harbour cawed with great contrast to the silent tide and quiet boats. This space of silence gave Jonathan a chance to reflect on his surroundings. 'So this is Ireland', he thought amusingly to himself. The cobblestone paths he treaded upon were no different then the streets in some of the farming villages in England. The pubs and dockside shops that hunkered beside the cracked street brought him a welcoming feeling, although fully aware that his nationality would not be favourable here. Looking up at the grim sky, he reflected how both countries, though divided by a bitter hatred, essentially shared the same sky. It was a perpetual sadness which consumed the clouds and impregnated them with tears. However although he had seen plenty of oceans in his lifetime, he had never witnessed the sea from here in Ireland. It was like a different being all together, a life force of its own. It sung its own sad melody, and the waves harmonized in a tragic lullaby. Jonathan sighed; he had no idea why he would leave England again. For the past couple of months there was a restlessness stirring in his heart, slowly tightening it like an iron fist. Night after night was spent gambling away his fortune from Hamunaptra and drinking to a numb soul. He shuddered at the thought of mummies, but the weight on his shoulders dissipated when Jonathan thought of his fortune. Though he spent quite a bit of the earnings from the discovered gold, he would still have plenty enough for generations to come, gambling and drinking included. No, he thought quietly, he was searching, aching, for something. A premonition of change hung in Jonathan's frame like a dark shroud. His normally mirth attitude was replaced by a restless eagerness to find whatever it was that he was looking for.
So the lazy afternoon when he received a letter of invitation from his old friend William Darby, he jumped at the chance. Will was working as a temporary engineer for a well-off docking company along the coast of Ireland, but as one of the few Englishmen working there he was finding it difficult to cope. So in a moment of inspiration he invited Jonathan to break away from England for a couple of weeks, and had only one certain event planned for that night. Drinks, gambling, and if they were sober enough, women. Although Jonathan did enjoy his occasional round-a-bouts, these days the thought of being with a strange woman again somehow repulsed him. He shrugged the thought away, he was to damn sober to be his normal self.
Later that night
For the fifth time that night, Jonathan felt a pair of hands clapping him on his back just as he was about to take a swig of brandy. His lean body was pushed forward and his drink spilled onto the table. He rolled his eyes cynically and lifted his glass in a half-hearted toast with the group of drunkards who for the past hour roared like sailors, whom many were. Jonathan surveyed his surrounding with a mixture of longing, revulsion, and exhaustion. About thirty other men had joined the two Englishmen that night at the grand opening of Maugham's pub, a smoky and rowdy tavern, and half of them had deemed Jonathan and Will fun enough to have a laugh and a gander with. Half a dozen songs had been sung, and the sweet lilting voices were the only thing that brought comfort to Jonathan's ear. The night should have been perfect, but somehow it felt incomplete. Jonathan sighed and lifted himself from the game of poker he was playing with a few of the more elderly Irishmen, not feeling the will to act like a drunken fool tonight with the younger men. Something was undoubtedly missing.
He lost the poker game good-heartedly and shook hands with the older gents, glad to have talked with them. They had interesting stories to tell, even if some of them were undoubtedly intermingled with some form of mythology. Jonathan stretched his neck to find Will stumbling towards him, his drink sloshing onto the wooden floor. Just as he was about to collapse drunkenly onto the one of the bartenders, a pretty girl named Maureen, Jonathan caught him midway. As Will struggled to gain balance, Jonathan winked humorously at the girl and lifted Will up. He sat his friend down, who was giggling like a school-girl, and snapped his fingers to grab his attention.
"Will, WILL! Yes, well, I'm off now, I'll be back at your flat later on, I think I'll take a walk down to the shore. Is that alright with you old boy?"
Will let out a great roar of laughter, his attention was completely elsewhere. He grabbed his stomach and continued to guffaw hysterically. Jonathan stared at him sardonically for a moment, bemusement and seriousness crouching in his eye.
"Right then. Well… I'm off, good luck getting home; I'll have one of the gents to take you to your flat."
This did not deter Will from his out of placed laughter. Jonathan clapped one the side of his friend's arm in farewell and asked one of the few sober men to take care of Will. He tipped his head in respect to the kind men still sharing stories at the poker table, occasionally singing an old ballad of some sort.
When Jonathan finally escaped the smoky room into the cool night breeze, he sighed in relief. The midnight sky wore a cloak of blackness, with a hint of the darkest of blues creeping into the distance. He rested his frame against the grey brick of the pub, the laughter inside drifting away as the stars of the surprisingly clear sky winked at him in silent reign. He moved away, walking across the cobblestone street where a railing across the line of buildings seemed to guard the ocean shore. Jonathan jogged across the road, grabbed the fenced thigh-high railing and swung himself over. However he was still a Carnahan, so of course his leap was far from graceful as he ended up on the beach with his back pressed to the sandy ground and groaning in this accustomed feeling of clumsiness. Jonathan lifted himself from the ground, not bothering to swipe the sand off his pants. He breathed the sharp taste of the ocean. The sea itself was as black as the sky above it, except for the twinkles of white serenity that peeked upon the tips of child-like waves. It looked like it was trying to cling to the sky, but it could not catch the running night. The sand itself still shone a bright colour and with hands stuffed into pockets and pant legs rolled up, Jonathan began to walk along the shore. The waves lapped at his feet as his footprints engraved themselves in the ever disappearing wet sand. With his pocketed hands he wrapped his flimsy jacket closer to him, walking further and further away from the tiny harbour village. Though he was surrounded by the utmost beauty and serenity, his mind was a blank. His body was invisible to the sting of the wind. Jonathan was a wallflower to this canvas of nature's soul of beauty.
As he walked even further, he didn't take notice of the group of small rocky caves outlined in the distance, the waves only slightly tickling the rocks closer to the edge. Jonathan did, however, notice the scream emanating from the angular stones. His head snapped up, the scream piercing his heart. His feet reacted faster then his head, as he began to run towards the origin of the yell. When Jonathan finally arrived to small cluster of caves, he could hear the muffled noises of a woman, and fear for her safety erupted when he heard the grunting chuckles of male voices. He crept closer, picking up a soaked log encaged in seaweed. He crouched low, and peered inside. Jonathan could make out the figures of at least three people. Two of them were men, large men he noticed with a disgruntled grimace. The third figure was being pushed to the ground, her arms pinned by one of the men. Jonathan couldn't make out a face, but that didn't even matter as anger surged through his body. He pressed onward, hoping to make a surprise attack. The cave was dark, but there was still enough light from the moon to make out the figures. Jonathan lifted up the log, and swung at one of the heads with all his might. He heard the sickening crack of impact, but unfortunately this did little to help the situation. The man fell down, but was not unconscious. Both of the men's heads swung around in shock. However one look at the stature of the intruder, their shock turned to anger. The girl, released from her captors, scrambled up to the nearest ledge, pressing her back to the creeping shadows.
"Leave her the bloody hell alone!" Jonathan's voice was surprisingly strong with anger with this statement.
The two men looked at each other in surprise. The taller one crossed his arms in disgust.
"Well, well. What do we have here? A brit! Aye, a curious brit at that. You interrupted our bout of fun, didn't you boy? Now Liam, what should we do to this pitiful lad?"
The other bearded man, softly touching the blood streaming from his head, glared at Jonathan with pure hatred.
"No one will ever find your body, laddie." He answered, smiling deviously.
Jonathan was instantly pinned to the wall, however pure instinct and some lessons from Rick (and embarrassingly enough from his sister) forced Jonathan to kick the man Liam in the crotch, elbowed him in the stomach, hit him in the forehead with his own head (which Jonathan he would comment later saying hurt like a bitch), pick up the log and swing it again at Liam's head. This time it did work, and the bearded man fell down in an unconscious heap. However Jonathan did not have time to celebrate, although amazed at what he just did. All he felt was the sharp pain emanating from his leg as the taller man shoved a thick knife that seemed to appear out of nowhere into Jonathan's leg. A fist swung towards his neck, and all Jonathan saw before falling into a pit of darkness was a dark figure in the corner of the cave, her body pressed to the wall breathing heavily, and he all wondered was what her name could possible be.
………
The first thing Jonathan awoke to was a blinding light, forcing him to cringe away and shut his eyes tightly. The next thing he noticed, after getting used to the harsh sunlight, was a blanket of wispy red hair, the colour of a dying sun. Strands of it had strayed, reaching towards the sunlight and giving it a halo of glowing light around each strand of angelic hair. Jonathan's gaze traveled downward, and his heart stopped. It wasn't her beauty that affected him so; it was the mere presence of HER. He knew in his heart that whatever it was that he was looking for, he found it. For once in his life, Jonathan felt completed. What lay before his astonished eyes was a young girl, still in her twenties. She lay sleeping on a wicker chair in front a large, circular window, her body illuminated by the rising day. Her knees were curled up towards hers, and her pale blue dress was darkened in the silhouette of the towering window. Her head was leaning against the scratched glass, her eyes facing downwards like a statue of a Greek goddess. He could tell that her eyes, though gently resting, were most likely wide, yet curved every so exotically in the corners. This Queen Mab presented a graceful, dignified Roman nose, perfectly straight and, well, he thought, plainly perfect. Her cheekbones slanted with a shadow of an arch, and Jonathan's heart nearly shut down when his eyes finally rested on her lips. They were like bow and arrow lips, painted by Cupid himself. A tiny, barely noticeable dent laid right smack in the middle of her lower lip, as though kissed by a fairy. She was the Fairy Queen, Jonathan thought. Her hair of delicate red lay twisted in a knotted braid which rested upon her shoulder, strands escaping the woven lace. However his awed examination of this mysterious angel did not last long, because before long she awoke with a startled glance, her eyes full of fear. Jonathan nearly gasped at the sight of her eyes, the perfect mixture of the stormiest of blue and the palest of ocean grey clashing in perfect harmony. When they finally locked eyes, Jonathan knew what love was like. He finally understood what the commotion between his sister and Rick was all about.
Her eyes were full of fear, as though waking to a horrible nightmare, but when she looked over at Jonathan, the sadness and pain resided, and warmth reigned. Jonathan was lying on a small bed, wrapped in sheets. The girl stretched comfortably and jumped off the chair, smiling warmly at him.
"Good morning, lad, how are you feeling today?"
It was exactly at that moment that everything that had occurred the night before surfaced in his mind, and the pain of the knife attack surged its deadly hate in his leg. Jonathan shot up like an arrow, and within a mille-second had swiped the sheets off his body. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his thin body was still slightly soaked from the pain of the night before. His leg was wound up in somewhat of greenish gauze, wrapped tightly around his wound. But the thing that Jonathan noticed was what he was wearing under the sheets. He was wearing boxers, but they were not his own. He glanced accusingly at the girl, although tremendously amused by the blush that swept furiously upon her face.
"Don't be daft, lad. I dinna see anything. I got me mam to change you last night; you had blood all over your clothing. And in the name of Saint Joseph, what are you even thinking moving around like that? You'll tear the stitching."
Jonathan merely stared at her, still entranced. Her voice was lyrical and had a sweet, ancient lilt to it. It was as though sung by sirens from long ago. Or in her case, maybe Selkies, but he couldn't recall any legends of singing humans/seals. The woman was obviously aware that he was staring intensely at her, but did her best to not notice, focusing instead on starting a fire at the hearth in the corner of a very quaint room.
"What's your name?" asked Jonathan suddenly.
The woman glanced at him for a moment before finally starting a flame.
"My name is Danu. Don't you want to know what happened last night?"
Jonathan pondered on her name for awhile before responding.
"No. That's a beautiful name, where does it come from?"
Danu stared at him in disbelief.
"You got stabbed last night, lad, and you can't tell me you dinna care!"
Jonathan shrugged. The woman rolled her eyes.
"You Englishmen are not always right in the head, me mam says. Me name comes from Irish mythology, the legend of the people of Tuatha Dé Danann. They believed in a goddess named Danu, and they were also called People of Danu. That is where I got me name."
She sat herself onto the bed and carefully lifted his aching leg onto her lap to check the bandages.
"But even if ye don't care, I'll tell you what happened last night. I was collecting shells late last night, when those two drunkards came by. They woulda done something awful if you hadn't stopped them. When that man stabbed you, he got scared and ran away. You were shaking like a newborn lamb, I must say, but didn't even whimper. I dragged you up the shore, which by the way was not at all an easy thing to do you heavy oak, and brought you here. Me mam and the doctor fixed you up, but I've been here most of the night."
Danu began to slowly unwrap the bandages, her touch electrifying to his skin. Jonathan swallowed and tensed up at the sharp pains.
"Why are the bandages green?" He asked hesitantly.
Danu smiled devilishly at him before getting off the bed and reaching for a basket near the door. She pulled out slimy seaweed and folded it on a pipe overhead the burning fire. Jonathan stared in disgust.
"God, you wrapped me up in seaweed?"
The woman swatted his head playfully.
"Seaweed makes an excellent source of healing power, I just need to boil it and dry it to get rid of the salt, otherwise that'd be painful as hell."
Jonathan grimaced. He looked around the room as she began to wrap some dried seaweed around his inflamed leg. The room sported wooden, scratched floors, and warmth emanated from the entire room. Quaint was the only word to describe it.
"Where am I?" He questioned wondrously.
Danu tightened the gauze for pressure, ignoring Jonathan's hiss of agony.
"Me mam owns a beautiful inn near the sea, which you can take a wild guess and say that you're in it. The wound will give you a scar, but you will be able to walk again. Soon you will be able to walk over to this window, and see the ocean for yourself. This is my favourite room in the whole Inn. It's beautiful, is it not?"
However when Jonathan agreed, he only had eyes for her. It suddenly hit him what she had done for him.
"Thank you." He said quietly. "Thank you for helping me."
Danu's eyes darkened with passionate intensity as she crouched down and took his hand into her pale alabaster palms.
"You did a great favour for me. I don't think I can ever repay you." Her eyes began to well up with the thought of what could have happened.
Jonathan was in heaven within her cool touch. He looked at her almost lovingly before speaking.
"My name is Jonathan, by the way. Jonathan Carnahan. I'm from London."
A vixen smile appeared on Danu's fairy face as she got up and walked towards the door. Just when she was about to walk out, she turn and gave him a sly smile.
"Aye, I know. I stole your wallet."
With a flirty smile and a devilish wink, she left the room eloquently leaving a pale, half-naked Englishmen staring open-mouthed at the door all the while wrapped in seaweed. It was an image Danu chose to keep forever.
………..
The Return to The Garbage Pile
Jonathan staggered up from his makeshift resting place and began to stumble carefully through the streets of London. His prime objective was to now make it home, or if anyone he knew happened to see him trudging by and took him home with them.
In truth, Jonathan was elated. Somehow, through the thicket of his clumsiness and normally drunken self, he was able to win the heart of this beautiful Irish maiden. Danu would never see him as a brave knight in shining armour, or as a strong warrior, but she loved him still. He brought her humour in her sad life, and made her laugh from the very depths of her soul. He broke her shell, and for that she proclaimed her love for him. The day he left for England, he proposed marriage to her. It wasn't even something to consider, they were meant for one another. They brought purpose for one another. It was just another completion. Currently Danu was still in Ireland, doing her best to say goodbye to her sheltered life and more importantly to her mother. They decided to live in England; because it was much more dangerous for a British man living in Ireland then it would be for an Irish woman to live in England. They discovered their love in Ireland, but now it was time to expand their love in England. However there was one condition to the engagement, Danu forced him to promise to give up the drink. And gambling. And women. And everything from his life before her. However Jonathan was more then willing to do so. This one drunken night was an ode to the life he was leaving behind, his makeshift bachelor party.
Jonathan continued along the shadowed streets, tripping every so often in an attempt to kick away pebbles. He saw his flat appear a short distance away, but his thoughts were on Danu. It was always Danu.
(A/N. Sorry it was so long, and sorry I didn't expand too much with their love. I wanted to do that when I when into Danu's perspective of things. I didn't update for a while because I had to work all bloody week. I quit, and then they give me a raise. Oh by the way, Queen Mab is supposed to be Queen of the fairies, apparently in some stories. My biggest concern with this story is that I have so many viewpoints I feel as though I'm abandoning my cliffhangers, oh well, I've got some catching up to do.)
To My Reviewers
Lucky Fannah, a.k.a johnnycarnahan: Lol, I'm happy you enjoyed the chapter, I had fun writing it. I can tell that you're a Jonathan lover, so I apologize for this chapter. It was rather rushed and I'm finding it difficult to depict his character. But I'll figure it somehow. (I do wish that I could've written more with Danu and Jonathan, but I way too much for this chapter as it is. Thank you again for the review!
Eviefan: Thank you soooo much for the review. Alex is so easy to write about, his character in the movie is priceless. I just turn him into the cynical troublemaker, and he's great like that. I apologize for all the cliffhangers, its hard to write wrap them up when I have so many perspectives to write about. I hope that you won't get to bored, lol. Oh, and I guess you'll have to wait and see about the Camp Medjai, but I'll explain who the men really are soon.
Dawn1: A hundred thanks for the review. I absolutely LOVE getting them. As I was telling Eviefan, I apologize about the cliffhangers. I'm finding it difficult to wrap them up with so many character techniques I want to explore. But I appreciate the insight. I also appreciate your comment on Alex; those types of reviews make me very happy indeed, lol. Although he does see a bit young to be the sarcastic character. It's a character trait that my adult brothers would do.