Chapter Twenty-Five
Ivy stared at the pen and paper before her, chewing her lower lip nervously. She knew some of the symbols she'd seen, but there were others she had never encountered before.
Sam had drawn a crude outline of an upper body on the paper, and now Ivy had to fill in the blanks, so to speak. After she had calmed down and the others had been summoned, Faolán had suggested Ivy draw them in their precise placements as accurately as she could.
"The placement of the symbols on his body might be important," he'd explained. "Ivy, I know this is difficult, but you must try as hard as you can, alright?"
Dean, seated next to her, put his hand over hers and gave an encouraging squeeze. Their eyes met, and Ivy nodded slightly before taking up the pen. She said nothing as she drew, but Faolán provided a running commentary.
"Those two are Ogham symbols – muin and edad. Ogham letters share their names with trees and shrubs and plants: here, the vine and the poplar, respectively," he began. "This one is a triple spiral. That can mean several things to you humans, depending on how your knowledge and beliefs influence your interpretations. To us Fey, however, it is a symbol of a god before even our time – Manannán. That's the double spiral, symbolic of balance and of the seasons."
The next two symbols took some time for Ivy to draw. They had been crudely carved into Dean's flesh in her vision, but as she drew she said, "I'm elaborating these for clarity's sake. I'm not entirely sure if these were the intended symbols though."
"That one looks like a salmon," Faolán remarked, pointing to the first after she finished. He moved his finger to the second. "That's a griffin."
"What do those mean again?" Charlie asked, speaking for the first time since being summoned to the reading room.
"Not paying attention to your mythology again?" Faolán teased gently. "The salmon stands for knowledge, depth, and insight. The griffin – interestingly enough, not only your namesake, but also a symbol of natural dichotomies. Man and woman, darkness and light, good and evil."
"Were there any more?" Castiel asked Ivy.
"Just two." She drew the first of them.
"That's the Sword of Nuada," Faolán said quietly. "He was the first king of the Tuatha Dé Dannan. His sword is symbolic of supreme will…specifically, all are subject to the will of the sword." He paused before asking, "And the last one?"
She drew it.
"The equal-armed Celtic cross. Four ways to ascension."
"Ascension to what?" Dean demanded.
"To any number of things, but mainly to a more intimate knowledge of oneself, nature, wordly wisdom, and the deities of our people," Faolán explained.
"So what does all of this mean, Faolán?" Castiel asked.
Faolán took the drawing from Ivy and studied it more closely as everyone waited on tenterhooks. After what seemed like an eternity, he set the paper back down on the table.
"Notice these?" he asked, pointing to the edad, double spiral, griffin, and the salmon.
"They're on his left side," Sam remarked. "The…edad...is on his upper left arm, and the animals are over his heart...the spiral down near the bottom of his rib cage."
Faolán nodded. "Remember those natural dualities I mentioned earlier?"
"Light and dark, dude and chick, that stuff?" Dean asked.
"Yes. Well, the body is also full of dualities. In this case, the sides of the body are what we're concered with…the left side is associated with darkness as well as the material world. It is also the defensive side, or the one that protects the rest of the body – traditionally speaking…and it's also the side concerned with spirituality and emotions."
"Which means…?" Charlie coaxed.
Castiel jumped in. "Darkness is considered permanent, and material objects obscure or veil the supernatural world. Where offense is considered a manifestation of strength, defense is one of endurance. Endurance is considered a particularly femine trait. As for spirituality and emotions, that's more or less self-explanatory, right?"
Charlie sighed in exasperation. "English," she said.
"What he means," Faolán cut in, "is that these symbols all correspond to something in Dean's life that is associated with darkness, material objects, femininity, spirituality, and emotions."
"What's that, then?" Ivy piped up.
"You're aware of the Druid zodiac?" Faolán asked. Charlie and Ivy nodded, but the Winchesters looked confused, so Faolán explained. "It's how ancient Celtic Druids divided the year, but instead of animals, they used plants. Mostly trees, but they're all robust plants. Anyway, in the same way that the animal-based zodiac attributes particular characteristics to a person based on date of birth, so too does the Druid zodiar. This symbol, edad, is a symbol of the poplar."
"So what characteristics do poplars have?" Sam wanted to know.
"They are like the Leos of the Druid zodiac: not only do they share the same dates, to an extent, but they are also proud and independent, with magnetic personalities." Faolán pursed his lips and thought a moment before moving on to the next symbol. "The Ancient Celts also had an animal-based zodiac separate from the traditional one. In that cycle, the salmon corresponds to the dates of the poplar."
"What about the griffin?" Charlie asked.
Faolán nodded. "I was just going to get to that," he remarked. "It is the most important of this group of symbols, not only because it symbolises duality and therefore emphasises the natural duality of the world and all its forces. It is a direct reference to your family."
They sat in silence for a moment, and Ivy and Charlie shared a long look. Ivy had already pieced together this section of the puzzle long before Faolán had reached the griffin.
Dean noticed the look they exchanged immediately. "Alright, you two," he said. "Spill the beans."
Ivy looked at him. "It's me," she said, pointing at the symbols on the left-hand side of the paper. "I am the link between you and these symbols. The poplar tree and the salmon are the zodiac cycles that correspond to my birthday – I'm a Leo, born the ninth of August. And as Faolán's pointed out, the griffin is pretty self-explanatory."
Dean pursed his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. "Okay, so what about the rest of them?" he finally asked. "Does their placement on my…on my body have any significance?"
"They are all on the opposite side of the body, save for the triple spiral and the Cross of Ascension," Faolán said. "Those are in the middle. So, on the left we have the muin – the vine – and the double spiral. We've also got the Sword of Nuada. The vine symbolises bounty, regeneration, and growth. The double spiral stands for balance as well as the changing of the seasons, or the solstices and equinoxes. The sword signifies the supremacy of physical prowess."
Sam had been piecing it together in his mind, and spoke. "So – and correct me if I'm wrong – we've got these symbols on the right side of his body, which means they stand for light and masculinity and…well, the supernatural?"
"Very good, Sam," Faolán said. "These things signify what lie beyond the material world."
"The Otherworld," Charlie murmured, and the púca nodded.
"The Otherworld," he repeated, pointing at the right. He moved his finger to the left. "This world."
"United by this," Sam finished, pointing to the triple spiral and the Cross of Ascension.
"Manannán was an ancient god who preceded the Tuatha Dé Dannan," Faolán said, "and the Cross of Ascension symbolises a pathway to a higher plane of existence. In the middle, here, they unite the two sides."
It dawned on Charlie and Ivy at the same time, but it was Sam who voiced the conclusion.
"So it's what Titania was talking about," he said. "All that stuff about the war between the Faeries and Ivy destined to bring balance. It's all here."
"Yeah, carved into me," Dean reminded his brother.
"Precisely," Castiel said. "If this vision follows the same pattern as the rest of the ones Ivy has had before, that means it will, eventually come true."
Dean looked like he was going to be sick.
Castiel turned to Faolán. "We know the whole 'prophecy' already, so why would anyone go through the trouble of writing it out on Dean's body with his own flesh and blood?"
"Wow, way to state that gently," Dean grumbled.
"Ivy, you said you smelled something burning?" Faolán inquired.
"Yes. It smelled like a Sunday roast covered in way too many herbs and seasonings," Ivy recalled. "And there were loads of candles everywhere."
"Sounds like a spell," Sam remarked.
"That's probably exactly what it is," the púca agreed. "If so, then it's a powerful spell to bind one to one's destiny."
All eyes turned to Ivy.
"So you're saying that Titania will try to bind me to my fate in the Faerie war?" Ivy said slowly, "and that she'll use Dean as a spell component to make sure it all happens?"
"In a word, yes." Faolán's voice was, as ever, grave. "It's quite elegant actually. A spell of that magnitude requires fresh human blood as well as a human body upon which to inscribe the desired outcomes of the spell, and it helps immensely if the sacrifice has a direct connection to the target of the spell. Titania also wants Ivy to come to her in the Otherworld so that she can capture Ivy and make sure she's around to fulfil her destiny. Dean is the perfect candidate."
"Great." Dean stood abruptly and began to pace about the room.
"There's one thing you didn't get straight, though," Charlie piped up.
"What's that, then?" Faolán queried.
"Ivy's visions don't always play out exactly as they appear to her," Charlie explained.
"That's true. Sometimes based on what I've seen, we've been able to come up with a plan that circumvents the vision coming true in its entirety," Ivy agreed.
"So Dean won't necessarily become a spell component," Sam surmised.
"Exactly."
"Which brings us back to the original question," Dean cut in. "How do we gank this bitch?"
"Ivy has to kill her," Castiel reminded him.
"Yeah, well, without putting Ivy anywhere near her," Dean snapped.
Castiel and Faolán shook their heads. "Impossible," the Angel said. "The lore clearly states that Ivy must kill Titania."
"Fuck the lore," Dean hissed. "There is always a way around this sacrificial lamb bullshit. Just because Ivy's visions don't always come true doesn't mean we can just send her in with all guns blazing to take down the Faerie Bitch Queen."
Castiel entered the garage and found Charlie there, unsurprisingly. With nothing more to work on – either on her truck or her motorcycle – for the time being, she found herself restless. Given the circumstances, she and Ivy had already spoken with Skipper Delahunty and Jamie O'Harraughton to make arrangements for them to take over the Motors until the entire hunt was over. Although the Griffins had worked together on cases before, it was rare for both Charlie and Ivy to be so caught up in a hunt that neither of them had time to work at the Motors; nonetheless, the boys had been more than willing to take on the sudden influx of shifts – as well as the windfall of cash that came with it.
Cas found Charlie perched on the tailgate of her Challenger, one knee drawn up and her chin resting on it. Her arms were wrapped around that knee, and one hand absentmindedly twirled a long golden curl. It looked like she was deep in her thoughts, and Castiel hated to disturb her. But he was concerned for Charlie, and approached her.
"Are you alright?" he asked, cutting to the chase as he sat down beside her.
"I don't know. Maybe?" Charlie replied flatly. "I mean, my family's in trouble with the Faeries. That's not exactly big news around here."
Castiel frowned, but Charlie continued before he could speak. "But there's only so much I can take, you know? There are so many things going on right now and at the very centre of it is this goddamn family legacy that will never, ever end. It's just this cycle of madness that spirals down for God knows how long into the future and nothing we can do now will make a difference." Spent after such a litany, she fell silent.
The Angel put his arm around her, and she unfolded herself to lean into him. "Cas," she said after a moment, "why does life suck so much sometimes?"
"To make you appreciate the times when it doesn't suck?" Cas suggested.
Charlie laughed and kissed his cheek. "That's a thought."
"Good…I was afraid I 'dropped the ball' on that one."
"No, you definitely didn't," Charlie said with a smile.
Cas kissed her forehead as she fell silent. "I'm sure we'll be able to figure this all out," he assured her. "Just because the lore dictates Ivy has to kill Titania doesn't mean it has to turn out that way."
"You really think so?"
"Yes. I've seen many things in my time, and none quite as extraordinary as the Winchesters in action," Cas told her. "Especially when they've both got something they believe in so much, they'll stop at nothing to defend it. Dean cares about Ivy, Charlie. There is no doubt about that. He will find a way to protect her, and Sam will help. And we'll all do our part."
"Yeah, I guess we will," Charlie mused. She kissed him after a moment, and pulled away with a smile before Cas could get too caught up in the moment. Human emotions and physical feelings were still vastly uncharted territory for him.
"Where are the others?" Castiel asked, tugging at his tie.
"In the house. Faolán is meditating. It's very odd. He lit different herbs on fire. Sam decided to take a nap. I don't know about Dean and Ivy but they are together, so you can guess where that's going to end up," Charlie replied. "Why?"
Cas got off the tailgate and strode over to the garage door. He shut it and turned back, walking towards Charlie with a sly grin. "Because," he said, coming up to her and sliding his coat off, "maybe we can…disappear for a while, too."
Ivy and Dean were indeed together, but Ivy's migraine had gone into overdrive after the ordeal of her vision and Dean was too riled up to want to get up to any frisky business. Instead, Dean lounged in the chair next to his bed, book in hand, while Ivy lay upon the bed itself, a cool damp towel over her eyes.
"Christ. What the hell is Faolán burning?" he asked after a long stretch of silence.
Still with her eyes covered, Ivy sniffed the air. "He said he was going to enter reverie, so it's probably some meditation herbs."
"Reverie?"
"The Fey don't sleep. They sort of…meditate."
"…of course they do."
Ivy laughed and readjusted the towel. "They're supernatural, remember? They don't exactly have the same wiring as us."
Dean shut his book and got up out of the chair to pace about the room. "They mostly seem crazy to me," he remarked dryly.
"Isn't everyone?" Ivy retorted, but she smiled.
Dean rolled his eyes. Sitting down on the bed next to Ivy, he put his hand over hers and gave it a soft squeeze. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
Ivy removed the cloth from her eyes and proppped herself up on one elbow. "Not really," she said bluntly, her brow knitted in a frown. "I'm trying to wrap my head around all of this and I just can't."
Dean motioned for her to scoot over and she did so that he could lie down beside her. She instinctively snuggled against his side, feeling calmer in such close proximitiy to him. But not much calmer.
"It's not like I don't know what I'm up against, so really I shouldn't be this scared, right?" Ivy continued. She didn't care if she was babbling. She needed to let it out somehow. "But I think that's what's freaking me out so much. I know exactly what I'm up against and it feels so…so hopeless."
Dean knew exactly what that felt like, and he held her close. "I know what you mean," he said after a moment. "Sometimes it's so overwhelming that you just want it all to be over. But you can't let it consume you. Trust me, Ivy…there's always a way out somehow."
Ivy could tell from the tone of his voice that this was something he'd spent a lot of time mulling over. She wasn't surprised; given what she knew about the Winchesters, both before meeting them and after getting to know them personally, she could imagine that Dean and Sam had experienced way too much for any normal people to handle.
"It's a hard life, isn't it?" Dean continued, turning onto his side and lying nose-to-nose with Ivy. "I've tried before to get out of it…didn't work so well."
"Yeah?" Ivy asked. Dean nodded, but didn't elaborate. Ivy took up the slack in the conversation. "You know, my dad left Pine Valley to get away from this life and make sure I didn't get caught up in it. Ton of good that did, huh? It's like us hunters are cursed or something."
"I guess we must be," Dean admitted with a dry, humourless laugh. "It's hard to find somebody who gets it."
Ivy could sense an extremely deep and painful wound lurking beneath Dean's tough, hardened surface, but she didn't want to pry. Charlie had mentioned a few days earlier that Dean had nearly gone guano over her mentioning Lisa, and although Ivy's intuition told her that this woman lay at the heart of Dean's pain, she didn't want to go setting him off.
They lay in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts and worries. Dean broke the silence again, with a question that caught Ivy off guard.
"Have you ever loved somebody, Ivy?"
She pulled away a bit to get a better look at his face. There was nothing but seriousness written all over it, and she found herself at a loss for words. What was he trying to say – was there even anything to that question beyond curiousity?
Ivy pushed those thoughts aside, still trying to find words to tell him the honest truth. But the truth embarassed her, for an unknown reason, and she couldn't bring herself to admit that she had never been in love. Admitting that would mean admitting something else, and by no means whatsoever was this the time to be opening up that much.
She moved so that she was lying on her back. Looking up at the ceiling, she simply said, "Like you said, this is a hard life. I've had enough taken from me in this lifetime."
Dean frowned. Her skittishness and blatant, but unsuccesful, attempt to avoid the subject perturbed him greatly. "What's that supposed to mean?" he bleated.
"That means I don't want to talk about it." She rolled over onto her other side and, as Dean got up off the bed and left the room, desperately tried to start rebuilding some of the walls Dean somehow had managed to tear down.