Stars and Celestial Shifts
As the night settled in on them, it became clear that they would have to do more than just lean against the ticket booth. It would definitely be far too cold for Lin to stay outside. She had gained some color since retreating from the Dun, but her breath still came out with a slight frost to it and her skin still retained a bit of the blue tinge. She did, at least, seem able to carry on a conversation, and for that Roary was grateful. He left her leaning on the far side of the booth and toured around, looking for some way in.
"Bloody rot and damn," he muttered. The building was large enough to have a long window in the rear, but it was higher up than one would expect and not easy to reach. There was only one side door and then the main ticket window. He cast about for something that he could stand on to check to see if the window was locked but there was nothing he could see that would bear his weight. The ticket window was clearly locked - he could see the lock through the glass. That left the door. He could probably jimmy the lock, but he wasn't exactly sure he wanted Lin to know he knew how to do that sort of thing. He thought for a moment; he really didn't have much choice did he? He crouched down and took a good look at the lock. It was simple enough really, not any harder than the one on the cottage door. He fumbled around in his pockets until he found what he was looking for and pulled out his small pocket knife and an old credit card. Checking to make sure Lin was not standing right behind him, he worked the tip of the nail file on the knife into the lock and slid the card into the side of the door. He jiggled the card and the locking mechansim a few times until the card slid smoothly in and then he twisted the handle. He was in. "Strange how simple things can be," he thought. "Especially when they make things more complicated."
He went back to where he had left Lin and motioned to her to follow him. She rose, curious, and walked with him. If she was surprised that the building was open, she did not say anything, she just walked in and looked around the room that was now filtered with light from the risen moon. There was a desk against the ticket booth wall and a small chair. A short sofa hugged the wall with the long window, and a small table sat next to it with a couple of magazines on it and the day's newspaper. On the wall was a rack of tourist pamphlets, and in the corner was a coat rack and a small file cabinet. A small mud-colored blanket was thrown over the sofa, its inelegant lines heightened by the rather hideous aqua shade that could be made out even in the growing dark. The aqua sofa was accented with a hot pink throw-pillow. It appeared that someone was interested in making the place cheery, or at least adding some bright color to the otherwise entirely beige room. There was a box of crackers on the file cabinet and a stump from a loaf of brown bread. Roary encouraged Lin to use the blanket, such as it was, and tuck up on the sofa. He looked around for a way to make coffee and finally discovered the water closet hidden behind the coat rack. "Guess there isn't a lot of room here, or people generally wait for their needs 'til the get home," he thought. Once he opened the door he could see why the place was not prominently in view. The fixtures were definitely antique, and he had a suspicion that he would be in luck if at least the sink were in working order. They would definitely be camping tonight. He tried the tap. No luck. He stepped out and gave Lin the news. She took it calmly enough; at least they were inside, even if they had to take their business outside. He looked in the file cabinet, there was a bit more luck. He found a couple of glasses and a bottle of water. He brought the bread, glasses and water over to Lin and they made do with what they had as their meal for the evening.
Lin tried calling her mother again, but she had run out of battery. Apparently she would have to wait until they got into town to find a way to contact her. As she sat there, she could feel herself getting colder. Which really did not make sense. She was inside, in her coat and wrapped in a blanket. Surely she should be warming now? Yet as she breathed, she could see her breath in the air. She watched as Roary exhaled. There was no frost to his breath. He turned to look at her as the panic grew in her eyes.
They locked gazes. "Dont' ye dare do this to me again, Lin."
Her eyes began to glaze as her lips quivered and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Bloody hell," he growled. He was across the room and by her side in two steps. He pulled her roughly to her feet, but her gaze never varied. It was simply locked on something only she could see. He pulled the blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around her, rubbing her arms with it. He begged her to come out of it, to snap out of it. He thought about yelling at her, but gave that idea only a momentary glimmer.
"I dinna know who or what ye are, but ye need to go now," he said as he looked at Lin and yet knew he was no longer looking just at her. "She is not for ye. She has two fine young lads who need her and it's time for ye to go." He thought he could feel the faintest amount of heat in her breath. He began to talk to her of Ian and Sean and Fiona. He reminded her of everything he could think of about the boys and her mother. Her breath was definitely less frosted, yet she remained transfixed. The whiskey had helped in the Dun. He pulled out the flask and tipped it to her lips. A dram poured in and she swallowed. As the fire spread down her throat, her eyes swung to his and clung. She looked so desperate, so afraid. He was not sure what compelled him, he just acted. He pulled her to him and kissed her. Not a soft press of a friend or relative, not even a tentative kiss of a would-be lover, this was a ravaging kiss of one who has been gone too long. A kiss from the lost to the found. He moved his hands into her hair and his lips traveled across her face, kissing the line of her high cheekbone and traveling to her brow to settle one by one on those lovely troubled eyes, only to find themselves clinging again to her lips. He felt her settling into herself - no, that was not the right way to describe it - he felt her settling into him. She alighted onto him through her lips fusing into his. Her pulse increased and he could feel the heat build in her even through the blanket and the coat. He could feel the steady thrumming of her presence as it grew louder and stronger in the room. A low-pitched moan, almost like agony, hissed and a cold streak seared past his ear and around his body like a snaking tendril. Then there was nothing there but the two of them, nothing but the thrumming and the heat and the press of them together in the dark split only by the shafts of moonlight filtered through the shutters into the room.
Wrapped, entangled, enmeshed, enthralled - they found themselves somehow balanced on the small sofa. For her part all Lin could think, see, sense, taste or smell was him. He was everywhere and he was so indescribably enticing. Roary was beyond thought, he was all sensation, all pulsing need. Where and when he had lost the ability to think, he really was not sure. Perhaps it was at the point he knew she was actually kissing him back, or perhaps it was when he actually touched her fully for the first time. It didn't really matter. He was completely within that moment, that miniscule fraction of time, suspended in it. When at last they came together, meeting fully, filling and being fulfilled, it somehow went beyond what either of them intended. Perhaps it was just the moonlight, the setting or the sidhe playing in the shadows. But the full- bodied crescendo, the arc of the joining left them both spent and yet replete.
It was luck then that those same shutters cast the sun's opening glare directly into Roary's eye, urging him to wakefulness. As he glanced down at Lin's sleeping form and realized that the dream had been no dream, he thought, "But certainly not less than a dream after all that," and smiled. He rose and covered her with the blanket. Then he dressed quickly, not sure how the morning light would play out between them. He woke her gently. "I'm thinkin' it would be best if we were not here when they come back," he noted.
Lin looked up at him with a bit of a smile. "Well then, perhaps I should get ready to go." She dressed easily with no sign of caution in front of him, but she made no advances and said nothing about what had passed between them. "Shall we?" she dropped as she stepped out the door.
Roary ran a hand through his unruly mop and followed. He had no idea what had just past between them, if indeed anything had.
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