Worthy Remembrance
The Torchwood Three Hub was unusually quiet when Jack rose to start his day. The Rift was in a lull, so most of the team was enjoying a rare week off as a New Year's gift. Ianto had of course stayed at the Hub with him, but the Welshman hadn't been in their bed this morning in spite of the horribly early hour.
Harkness knew where the younger man likely was, as it had become his daily ritual in recent weeks. He'd be up in the aery with Myfanwy; cleaning the "dirt box", fluffing the bedding, and hand feeding her. The Pteranodon had been showing her age lately, not interested in the evening flights she once delighted in, too stiff and sore to even come down into the Hub to greet her favourite two-legged being anymore. So, the young Watcher had been going to her several times a day instead; to see to her comfort and ensure she received the affection he'd always lavished on her.
Today, the Captain could hear his lover softly singing in Welsh, the language giving "You Are My Sunshine" a haunting, melancholy twist. He smiled fondly, then jumped in surprise when a tiny Mara materialised in front of him with a clatter of dragonfly-like wings and zipped up toward the aery. Suddenly alarmed, the immortal quickly clambered up the ladder and headed into the heated nest at the far rear of the area.
Ianto was sitting with Myfanwy's large head across his lap, gently stroking her crest and eye ridges. He looked up at his partner as the older man approached, tears slowly trickling from red-rimmed eyes.
"She's gone," he whispered, grief a terrible dark fire in his tear blurred gaze. "I heard her calling just after 4:00, came up to make sure she hadn't gotten cast on her back again like last month. She only wanted me to sit with her, touch her, talk to her. And she just… slipped away."
Jack moved to slide down the wall beside the obviously distressed Welshman, reached out to rest a hand on the deceased Pteranodon's beak even as he got his other arm around his lover's shoulders. He wasn't quite sure what to say or do, his mind whirling with the uncomfortable logistics of moving the big, winged creature's body down out of the aery.
"We will take her," the little Mara spoke up from where it hovered overhead, even as dozens more popped into existence around them. "To the Wilding Wood. Fire Lord felt your despair, Watcher. Sent us to bring your An-còmhnaidh home. Waiting there he is for you. World Window already open where you sleep, Watcher. Go, go, go! Watcher, Crow and Calamity! Off you go!"
Then all the Mara settled atop Myfanwy's still form, bright bursts of light in a rainbow of colours engulfing their tiny faery bodies to spread over the Pteranodon. Between one breath and the next, they simply disappeared, leaving the two Torchwood agents alone in the aery.
"Guess we'd better follow them," Jack breathed, getting to his feet and offering his partner a helping hand even as he wondered when the Mara had started referring to him as 'Calamity' and why.
They descended to the Hub, set the remote alert function, then went to the office to put on their coats and take the ladder down into the expanded bunker they spent overnight shifts in these days. There was a shimmering swirl of golden light hovering between the big bed and the wardrobe, little Crow already sitting in front of it, the Nos Negeswyr changeling's rattle call the only sound in the room.
"Take my hand," Ianto murmured, scooping up the young cat before reaching out to the older man beside him.
Together, they stepped forward into the light, and emerged deep within the Wilding Wood outside Cartref Cysgod. The portal closed behind them, and they turned to find a large pocket of verdant green several metres away among the otherwise snow blanketed woodland. There, curled on the grass as though simply asleep lay Myfanwy, a familiar ginger-haired man crouched by her head with one hand on her crest.
He rose at their approach, his sea-change eyes sad but warm as he moved to embrace Ianto and drew the young Welshman's head down to place a kiss on his brow.
"I'm sorry, little one," Lasair murmured, sparing a caress for Crow and a brief shoulder squeeze for Jack. "She was very old and far from her point of origin, but that does not make the parting any easier."
"I feel like a piece of me is missing, Taddy-Tân," Ianto breathed unsteadily, tears welling once more. "Like I've failed somehow by not being able to save her."
"Oh, mo theine beag," the Ancient Dragon sighed, cupping the young Welshman's cheeks with warm, calloused hands. "It was her time in this incarnation, youngling. You did nothing wrong, and cherished her as she deserved while she was with you. This is not the end. You just have to be patient until the moment of a new beginning."
"She wasn't in pain or lonely in the end, Ianto," Harkness agreed, wrapping one arm around the younger man's shoulders. "You always made sure she was exercised, engaged, and well looked after from the moment you helped me bring her back to the Hub. She had a good life, buddy."
"Come," Copar urged, drawing them over to the Pteranodon's resting place, the two only then noticing that the entire local murder of Nos Negeswyr were perched in the trees bordering the clearing. "We shall do a proper Remembrance for your An-còmhnaidh."
The Dragon brought them over to the edge of the green space, then proceed alone to where the winged dinosaur's still body lay. He moved to stand behind her with clasped hands and bowed his head as though in prayer for a moment. But when the ginger-haired man slowly looked back up, there was bright copper fire shining in his eyes and he carefully drew his hands apart to expose a tiny flame so intense it looked like a captured star. He released the spark to drop down onto the Pteranodon's back, where it quickly took root and spread over her entire form.
"As gràdhaiche, Myfanwy," Lasair called clearly as the magical pyre flared, then he began to sing in an achingly beautiful voice that seemed to echo through all of Time and Space.
"Yr ydych yn farw, ond yr wyf yn fyw.
Yr wyf yn eich cofio, felly yr ydych yn dragwyddol.
Ddim wedi mynd, dim ond teithio ymhell i ffwrdd.
Ti yw golau'r sêr.
Ti yw cân y Gwag.
Ti yw'r cariad yn fy nghalon.
Ti yw'r tywysydd ar fy nhaith.
Byddwn bob amser yn cyfarfod eto."
Where he stood beside Jack, Ianto softly whispered the translation of the Welsh words being sung.
"You are dead, but I am alive.
I remember you, so you are eternal.
Not gone, merely traveling far away.
You are the light of the stars.
You are the song of the Void.
You are the love in my heart.
You are the guide on my journey.
We will always meet again."
When the song ended, Lasair drifted back over to them and gestured toward a grouping of boulders nearby.
"Let us sit and share memories of our departed friend, while the fires bear her body away," he suggested quietly.
The three settled, the Dragon placing himself behind the other two so that he could hold a hand of each of the other immortal beings sitting with him in the heart of the Wilding Wood, while still sheltering and supporting them.
"Do you remember your first Myfanwy, Ianto?" he queried with a gentle smile. "Back before the Banishing? Such a cheeky little thing."
Jack and Ianto felt a breath of warm air across their faces, and then the world around them seemed to disappear, leaving them watching scenes from a very different place and time as though it were playing out upon some wonderous theatre stage.
A boy of perhaps fourteen was running barefoot through a field of tall, golden grain that rippled in the breeze like water. There was no mistaking that the young brunette was Ianto, though it was surprising to see him with nearly shoulder length hair that fell in loose waves and curls, and dressed in only a long sleeveless tunic of undyed linen.
Suddenly, a shadow passed over head, just before a streak of fiery red and glittering gold descended on the youth in the field. A firebird nearly half the teenager's size ploughed into him and sent him tumbling, only to land in the middle of his chest and pin him to the ground.
"Myfanwy…" Ianto groaned, then laughed when the little phoenix trilled and shoved her head under his chin. "You're so lucky I love you, little menace."
The firebird made a chuckling sound like a low burning flame, mantling her bright coloured wings over them both as she snuggled against her favourite person and draped her long, flowing tail over his legs.
"Yes, Cariad," Ianto murmured, gently stroking her beak and topknot. "You are my very best friend… Always."
The scene faded, and both Jack and Ianto heard Lasair's voice drift around them.
"She is your An-còmhnaidh, your special companion, and you will find each other again and again in every Universe."
The memories were mostly just glimpses now, some longer to showcase special moments, but all proving that Myfanwy truly was Ianto's companion in every life no matter what form she appeared in.
They saw Ianto sitting in the shade of a large tree with a huge Cane Corso and a little coffee skinned toddler with a saggy nappy, the Welshman lovingly stroking the dog's back as they both watched the baby babble some story with wild dancing and expansive hand gestures. Then there was a big red barn, Myfanwy as they knew her tearing into a skinned sheep carcass as Ianto stroked her crest before stepping away to transform into a massive black wolf that was almost a third her size. Ianto in the main room of a stained glass adorned cottage with a bundled infant bound to his chest, carefully grooming a very happy malamute as he sang a soft lullaby, a bright blue female Ferkil watching on as she folded laundry with the help of a rotund human male that appeared to be her mate. The Hub at night where Ianto sat in a sophisticated power wheelchair serenading a very familiar Pteranodon and what appeared to be an electrically charged ghost. A stone courtyard, Ianto in a sleeveless tunic that exposed horrible burn scars from neck to wrist on one side, his gentle hands grooming an equally fire scarred blood bay mare of massive proportions even as he talks adoringly to a red-brown multi-winged dragon nearly the size of the castle behind them, smoke drifting from her nostrils as she sighs with contentment at his attention. A close clipped English Sheepdog in a sun-dappled wood sitting sedately beside the reclining form of a pure white stag, as a young but equally white-haired Ianto lovingly paints their portrait. Ianto in the pressed white uniform of Royalty, purple sash cast aside as he sits on the floor in the corner of a dimly lit library and cries into the coarse fur of the big wolfhound sitting nearly in his lap as she guards him from the world, her scarred muzzle occasionally reaching back to nuzzle him in an attempt at comfort. In the Hub once more with a fiercely protective Myfanwy shredding one of The Silence into black goo with her beak and claws to keep it away from a downed Ianto. A teenaged Ianto in light leather armour, waist length hair a natural silver tipped cornflower blue, performing sword practice with a fire edged blade where the movements flowed more like a dance than combat as a pony-sized silver furred panther watched on, moving to bowl him over and sprawl across his legs when he finished. What could have been the man sitting here in the Wilding Wood, dressed in corduroy trousers and a tan tweed field jacket, large silver-grey wings allowing him to fly with his beloved Pteranodon somewhere over the Brecon Beacons. And so many, many more.
"We remember you, Myfanwy," Lasair stated serenely when the last of the shared memories faded. "Nes i ni gwrdd eto."
Ianto sat with tears running down his face and Crow curled up in his lap, Jack's free arm tight around his waist. The older immortal took a deep shaky breath and leaned over to kiss his lover on the temple as the Dragon behind them finally released their hands.
"You will find her again in this life, dear one," Copar reassured, carefully rising and coming around to urge the two men to their feet. "Just as you had before she came to you as the beautiful creature my fire has now returned to Wilding Wood. Let us go to the house for a meal with little Crow, and I will share with you one last memory. A memory that was stolen from you with the damage done by an Awakening gone wrong before you ever thought to go to London or even considered joining Torchwood. I cannot return them all, but this one I can rekindle for you."
They started to make their way through the snowbound woods, the Nos Negeswyr all taking flight with a rush of wings and mournful caws as they scattered through the morning sky, the Mara appearing to chivvy cold white powder over the pile of fine grey ash that had once been a beloved Pteranodon.
As they walked, Harkness gently bumped shoulders with Ianto and gave him a small smile, hoping to boost his mood.
"Not to be insensitive," he began with a raised brow. "But that song sounded like something I've heard or read before that had to do with 'Star Wars'… A Mandalorian saying or something?"
"Honestly, Javic," Lasair huffed, then half-smiled and shrugged. "That franchise has 'borrowed' so much from Welsh stories and old lore from around the world it's frightening. And I can't deny that sometimes I get melancholy when I'm helping certain friends brainstorm for projects they're having trouble with. It just slipped out; I swear."
That actually won a choked laugh from Ianto, the young cat in his arms peering over at the ginger-haired Dragon and letting out a string of meows, chirps, and rattle calls.
"Yes, little sgàile," Copar chuckled in reply. "Just like when I told that silly girl her books would be better if she changed her tired night-locked 'monsters' to be like the original Madaidhean-allaidh and Fuil a Rugadh, and turned them into interesting protagonists instead of just boring evil enemies. A love triangle with giant four-legged wolves and bedazzled vampires in the mix was so much more entertaining."
"The "Twilight" series is your fault?" Ianto groaned, even as Jack snickered in giddy delight. "That makes so much sense though. I was never sure how she managed to come up with characters so like the Ancients' versions of werewolves and vampires without being one of us."
"One of my desperate distractions on the brief stops in this world on the way to another cluster-fuck in the other Universes this past century," the Dragon in human form admitted sheepishly. "Sometimes a few days is all it takes, if whispering in the right ears."
The mood now slightly less grim, the three finally made it to Cartref Cysgod and bundled into the glorified cabin they'd all come to love. Jack set to getting a fire going in the hearth, while Lasair made Ianto settle on the couch with Crow and took himself off to the kitchen after to pull a container of stew from the freezer and get it heating through. It wasn't long, before they were settling down at the table with mugs of tea, hot lamb stew, and a big plate of gooey cheese toasties to share. Crow enjoyed the stew as well, and those at the table passed the meal in comfortable silence.
When the washing up was done afterward, they all retired to the sitting area and eased down onto the thick rug in front of the fireplace. Copar had Jack sit behind Ianto this time, knowing the young Watcher would need the grounding embrace with what was about to happen. Then he positioned himself facing his theine beag and took up a hand of each of the other immortals once more.
"Your Myfanwy is more than worthy of Remembrance, dear one," Lasair stated warmly. "This lost incarnation perhaps most of all."
A soft rush of warm air again brought them to the mindscape of shared memory that was now slightly blurred at the edges, where a six-year-old Ianto was running through an autumn bright wood with blood on his face and fear in his eyes.
His father was so angry. Ianto knew he wasn't supposed to be downstairs until his mother got home with Rhiannon, but he'd heard the timer go off on the oven and thought he could just run down to turn the heat off so dinner wouldn't burn, then scurry back up to his room with no-one the wiser. And he'd almost made it. But his father had come stumbling in through the front door just as he'd hurried out of the kitchen, and he'd run right into him. His father had shouted and called him a careless little bastard when he'd reeled back from the impact, grabbed him by one wrist before he could get out of range.
Ianto didn't remember how many times his father had hit him, only that he'd somehow managed to get away and bolt out the still open front door. The half-drunk man's angry roars had followed him across the road and into the woods and he'd run all the harder.
He kept running until he could barely breathe, his head pounding and body aching. Finally, deep in the woods he collapsed, crying for the little friend who had been coming to visit him since he was three. There was the clatter of wings, and a tiny hand came to stroke his face.
"Da's a monster, Myfanwy," Ianto sobbed, curling into a tight ball of misery among the leaf clutter and ferns.
"My sweet boy," the Mara sighed, changing to her full size so that she could gather him into her arms and gently rock him. "Wish I could take you away with me, away. But away is not to be. You are too young to embrace the destiny that waits for you."
"I want to stay with you," Ianto cried, unconsciously reaching for his faery companion with his mind and feeling a surge of strangely familiar power. "I want to be like you."
"No… no, no, no, Cariad," Myfanwy called urgently, feeling the Watcher trying to awaken in her wee Hynafol. "Too young! Too young! It will burn all you are away! Char and ash and no more my boy!"
Ianto cried out in pain as it did indeed feel as though he was starting to burn from the inside. The Mara holding him could tell he was already losing the battle, and there was only one choice she could make. She loved her first ever friend dearly, had followed him into the Banishing and been by his side in some way ever since. But to save him now, she would have to leave him for an untold span of time no matter how much the separation would hurt. Holding his bruised body closer as he started to convulse, she gathered every tiny spark of power she had and cast it into his shattering mind.
"Chi yw'r anghenfil a yr anghenfil yw chi. Rhaid i'r ddau gysgu nes bod y Drych yn dangos yn wir," Myfanwy chanted, locking the Watcher away once more and hoping it was enough to save her beloved Ianto.
She could feel herself starting to fade, having given her all to stop the destruction of her friend's very being, and hopefully reverse some of the damage already done. In the distance, she could hear the panicked calls of the boy's mother, knew that the woman would be drawn to him and take him home. So, the Mara placed a last kiss on her boy's forehead and nestled him into the ferns with rapidly disintegrating hands.
"Goodbye, Cariad," Myfanwy whispered, her body slowly dissipating on the autumn breeze. "We will always meet again…"
The shared memory faded, and the three immortals sat staring at each other for several minutes. Then Ianto burst into tears and launched himself at his old mentor, clinging to the ginger-haired man with desperate strength.
"Thank you," the young Welshman sobbed. "I… I never believed… I could… have any of those… memories back."
"I know, dear one," Lasair murmured soothingly, meeting Jack's concerned gaze as the Captain moved to gently rub his weeping partner's back. "You were unconscious for nearly a fortnight; woke in hospital to be told you'd fractured your skull in a fall on the stairs and that memory loss was expected. Normally an Awakening would compensate for that, but it was a premature Awakening that actually caused the damage. And the only reason I could share it with you, is because it did not come from your mind, theine beag, but from Myfanwy's when I visited you at the Hub over the summer."
"I miss her so much already," Ianto whispered, trying to get his emotions under control.
"I know, Imp," the Dragon embracing him stated sadly, briefly tightening his arms around his young friend. "There is nothing wrong with feeling that hurt. It will slowly ease, I promise you, and you will find her again in time.
"But for now, I think we should stoke the fire, gather all the blankets and pillows in the place, and the three of us snuggle up here on the rug with Crow for a much-needed nap."
He kissed the Welshman on the forehead before releasing him to his partner's willing arms, then moved to add wood to the fire and re-secure the spark guard. And as he rose to go collect the mentioned blankets, quilts, and pillows, Jack was gently drying Ianto's tears while murmuring soft words of love and comfort.
Copar returned to the room to create a blanket nest on the rug, and soon they were settling to rest with Ianto cuddled between him and Harkness like the youngling he still was, little Crow sprawled across one of the pillows above their heads. Grief was a hard storm to battle, but with help his theine beag would make it through to the other side much sooner and less world weary this time.
"Thank you for Myfanwy's Remembrance, Taddy-Tân," Ianto breathed, one hand coming up to loosely grasp the Dragon's shirt front the way he had ages ago as a small child in a little coastal orphanage. "And for being here for me."
"Always…" Lasair responded just as softly, reaching over to tug a blanket higher on Jack's shoulder before drawing the hand back to curl over the one tangled in his shirt. "An-còmhnaidh."
Then there was only the crackling of the fire, the purring of the cat, and the soft breaths of sleeping immortals in a little snowbound house at the edge of the Wilding Wood.
For your Birthday, and for your Mum, sweetie. xxx
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
An-còmhnaidh = Always
mo theine beag = my little fire
As gràdhaiche = Dearest
Taddy-Tân = Father (Daddy) Fire
Nes i ni gwrdd eto. = Until we meet again.
sgàile = shadow
Madaidhean-allaidh and Fuil a Rugadh = Wolves and Blood Born
Hynafol = Ancient
Chi yw'r anghenfil a yr anghenfil yw chi. Rhaid i'r ddau gysgu nes bod y Drych yn dangos yn wir. = You are the monster, and the monster is you. Both must sleep until the Mirror shows true.
Cartref Cysgod = Shadow's Home
Nos Negeswyr = Night Messengers
{Crows are often seen as the go-betweens for the living (day) and the dead (night) as they are said to be able to pass back and forth through the Veil that separates the two realms. And if they happen to have a connection to the faery realm as well… they must be a slightly different murder indeed. Perhaps even alien… Yeah, they're my wee beasties. But I'm willing to share if you ask nicely.}