I Would Break My Body To Pieces
Full Title: I Would Break My Body To Pieces To Call You Once By Your Name || AU Art Trade of Corrupted Moirin pursuing Tiarnan and finally tracking him down, now with extra Leon!
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I have been chasing, chasing, chasing him.
The mountains outside the Glass Wastes are unforgiving, but not nearly so much as the Wastes themselves. Still, I know I will find him there. I will hold him to me as I once did, fit against his form like two puzzle pieces sliding together, and I will never, never let him go again.
My blade slices cleanly through a creature half-seen. The blood steams in the chill of the northern air, and the image I have of him, somewhere ahead of me, wavers in my vision. I focus on it, on him, and I press on.
Nothing will stop me.
Nothing will slow me down.
I will find him.
===
The road to reach him has been long.
Arduous, maybe, but the details of my travel escape me.
For all that I see it, for all that I do, it soon after disappears like dust on the wind.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter at all.
All that matters is him.
My Tiarnán.
My beloved.
Not once have I even considered the idea that I might fail. Before long, my persistence is rewarded–
I see him.
I see him ahead of me, surrounded on all sides.
Enemies hound him, but not for long. I will not let them.
===
I’ve been thinking about them a lot, lately. Where they might be, what they might be doing, or…
Do they even remember me?
I don’t pay overmuch attention to what the rest of my companions are working on. There is chatter around me, but it seems to go in one ear and out the other. My mind is occupied with thoughts of Móirín and the concern that I might never see them again.
Surely…surely I will, though.
There was a time when I thought nothing would see us parted…surely, we can return to those days.
===
Tiarnán remembers the day he met Móirín as clearly as if it were yesterday.
They had approached him in the library, seeking a particular book. Naturally, Tiarnán found it without any trouble, passing it along to the summer Sidhe’s waiting hands. The touch, though brief, spent brilliant little sparks all the way up Tiarnán’s arm. His chest tightened and his eyes widened, but if Móirín noticed any of his quite obvious feelings, they gave no indication. Instead, they smiled kindly and were gone again.
The winter Sidhe had assumed Móirín would not return for some time. Most folk needed time to read each borrowed title, so it would follow that the summer Sidhe was no different.
To Tiarnán’s surprise, however, Móirín was back within days, requesting another book and passing back the one they had seemingly only just checked out.
The pattern followed for many a day, week, and month.
When it changed, Tiarnán was stunned that Móirín wanted anything to do with him beyond their simple, easy conversations amongst the quiet bookshelves. He was even more surprised that he’d found the nerve to ask them in the first place.
“Would you like to travel with me for a short while?”
Móirín’s smile in that moment nearly destroyed him. He knew, then, that he would do anything for them, no matter the cost.
“I would like nothing more.”
===
Tiarnán could hardly believe his eyes.
While he waited on the sidelines, considering the latest problem to plague the group as well as his concerns about his long-missing partner, a figure crested a nearby ridge. Tiarnán was the first to notice them, but even as the others turned to see the source of the movement, only the winter Sidhe recognized the newcomer.
Móirín stood tall above the group, looking down upon them with a harsh, dark expression.
In their eyes, Tiarnán was besieged, surrounded by beasts unnamed, monsters that snarled and snapped their teeth at Móirín’s beloved partner. Drool dripped from their jaws, blood coated their bodies, and the summer Sidhe would not wait and see Tiarnán destroyed.
“Get away from him, you foul creatures,” Móirín hissed between clenched teeth as they slid down the rocky incline between themselves and the group below.
It was only moments later when the battle began…and moments after that, it was ended.
Keeva was naturally quick to summon Lancelot, fear written plainly across her features as the massive eidolon appeared before her. Unlike Keeva, Lan was more than ready to fight as soon as he laid eyes on the corrupted Sidhe. Without a word or even a moment’s pause, he launched at Móirín, who responded in kind by lifting their gargantuan greatsword high above their head.
“Begone.”
Their blade swung down in a grand arc. Tiarnán could do little more than watch in horror as the greatsword cut the willowy eidolon in half, from right shoulder to left hip, with hardly any effort. Lancelot was gone in barely more than a breath.
It wasn’t until Keeva screamed that Tiarnán returned to himself.
With his face contorted in panic and desperation, the winter Sidhe threw himself in front of his partner, arms extended wide to protect the other Sidhe even as Leon, Iris and Fiona came to crowd in front of her.
“Móirín, no!” Tiarnán cried, his entire body giving off frazzled wisps of his very essence. “These are my friends! Do not hurt them!”
To his relief, Móirín hesitated, their blade lowering, though only by a fraction of an inch.
“Friends?” they echoed. “Tiarnán, darling, do not be foolish. They want to destroy you. Only I will keep you safe.”
Tiarnán couldn’t stop trembling (or perhaps that was just his imagination).
“No, Móirín. Whatever you think you see is a lie, a falsehood. They are my friends and they have been protecting me. They have been keeping me safe.”
Leon still stood behind him, ready to fight should Tiarnán fail to talk the corrupted Sidhe down. Although he was loathe to interject in what still had a chance to be a pleasant reunion, he still laid a large armored hand down on Tiarnán’s shoulder. He’d meant it as a means of reassurance, a reminder that the larger summer Sidhe would and did have his friend’s back, but…
It certainly wasn’t taken that way.
“Unhand him!” Móirín snapped, lifting their greatsword higher again and taking a pair of steps forward, their eyes firmly focused upon Leon’s lone point of connection with Tiarnán.
Tiarnán was quick to react, pulling away from his friend’s grasp to meet Móirín step for step. The two locked eyes.
Finally, after several tense moments, Móirín’s sword lowered again.
“You cannot trust them, my love, they wish to end you.”
“Móirín…” Tiarnán’s voice sounded as pained as his heart felt. “I understand that you cannot trust them, but please, please, trust me. You can do that, can’t you?”
The winter Sidhe could practically hear Fiona’s teeth grinding and feel Keeva’s palpable distress. It seemed only Leon and Iris were able to be calm, or at least keep up the facade of it.
Móirín remained still, watching Tiarnán with a guarded, contemplative expression. So long as they stayed focused on him, it seemed they did not recognize the rest of the party as a threat. So long as Tiarnán could keep their eyes on him and him alone, perhaps it would be alright…
“I would do anything for you, my soul,” Móirín finally whispered, their voice barely able to sneak its way out of them. “I would break myself to pieces to call you once by your name.”
“I know you would. I know you would, Móirín,” Tiarnán replied gently. “So please, do this. Trust me. Trust that I would not lie to you. Trust that these are my friends and no matter what your mind tells you, I am safe with them.”
“Tiarnán--" was all that Leon managed to get out before Móirín snarled again.
“Keep his name out of your mouth!”
Even Tiarnán flinched at the sharpness of their voice. Leon, though he had little means with which to make expressions, sounded almost like he was frowning.
“That’s unreasonable,” was all the summer Sidhe said, but it didn’t stop Móirín from giving another harsh bark of anger.
“The only unreasonable thing here is leaving him in your hands!” they snapped. It was this last sentence that pushed Tiarnán into action.
The winter Sidhe took another step forward, now separated from his partner only by the width of their greatsword. Although it still felt as though his hands were shaking, and perhaps they were, he still placed them over Móirín’s, cupping their hands even as they held the massive blade between them.
“No one would ask that of you. No one. Just keep your eyes on me, focus on me, and stay with me. We will be safe together. My friends and I – no, I – will help you.” Tiarnán’s voice was steady, though it felt like his anxiety would betray him at any moment. If his voice cracked for even a moment, he feared they would no longer believe in him, that they would strike again.
Móirín stared at him. They stared and they stared and Tiarnán’s hands tightened around theirs, despite the danger of the sword held right in front of his face.
“Please, Móirín.”
Still, they stared…until finally, finally, they gave a soft whisper in return. “I would do anything for you,” they repeated. “Anything at all. Even this.”
Tiarnán’s smile likely looked as nervous as he felt, but Móirín still returned it.
“I would do the same for you.”
The mountains outside the Glass Wastes are unforgiving, but not nearly so much as the Wastes themselves. Still, I know I will find him there. I will hold him to me as I once did, fit against his form like two puzzle pieces sliding together, and I will never, never let him go again.
My blade slices cleanly through a creature half-seen. The blood steams in the chill of the northern air, and the image I have of him, somewhere ahead of me, wavers in my vision. I focus on it, on him, and I press on.
Nothing will stop me.
Nothing will slow me down.
I will find him.
===
The road to reach him has been long.
Arduous, maybe, but the details of my travel escape me.
For all that I see it, for all that I do, it soon after disappears like dust on the wind.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter at all.
All that matters is him.
My Tiarnán.
My beloved.
Not once have I even considered the idea that I might fail. Before long, my persistence is rewarded–
I see him.
I see him ahead of me, surrounded on all sides.
Enemies hound him, but not for long. I will not let them.
===
I’ve been thinking about them a lot, lately. Where they might be, what they might be doing, or…
Do they even remember me?
I don’t pay overmuch attention to what the rest of my companions are working on. There is chatter around me, but it seems to go in one ear and out the other. My mind is occupied with thoughts of Móirín and the concern that I might never see them again.
Surely…surely I will, though.
There was a time when I thought nothing would see us parted…surely, we can return to those days.
===
Tiarnán remembers the day he met Móirín as clearly as if it were yesterday.
They had approached him in the library, seeking a particular book. Naturally, Tiarnán found it without any trouble, passing it along to the summer Sidhe’s waiting hands. The touch, though brief, spent brilliant little sparks all the way up Tiarnán’s arm. His chest tightened and his eyes widened, but if Móirín noticed any of his quite obvious feelings, they gave no indication. Instead, they smiled kindly and were gone again.
The winter Sidhe had assumed Móirín would not return for some time. Most folk needed time to read each borrowed title, so it would follow that the summer Sidhe was no different.
To Tiarnán’s surprise, however, Móirín was back within days, requesting another book and passing back the one they had seemingly only just checked out.
The pattern followed for many a day, week, and month.
When it changed, Tiarnán was stunned that Móirín wanted anything to do with him beyond their simple, easy conversations amongst the quiet bookshelves. He was even more surprised that he’d found the nerve to ask them in the first place.
“Would you like to travel with me for a short while?”
Móirín’s smile in that moment nearly destroyed him. He knew, then, that he would do anything for them, no matter the cost.
“I would like nothing more.”
===
Tiarnán could hardly believe his eyes.
While he waited on the sidelines, considering the latest problem to plague the group as well as his concerns about his long-missing partner, a figure crested a nearby ridge. Tiarnán was the first to notice them, but even as the others turned to see the source of the movement, only the winter Sidhe recognized the newcomer.
Móirín stood tall above the group, looking down upon them with a harsh, dark expression.
In their eyes, Tiarnán was besieged, surrounded by beasts unnamed, monsters that snarled and snapped their teeth at Móirín’s beloved partner. Drool dripped from their jaws, blood coated their bodies, and the summer Sidhe would not wait and see Tiarnán destroyed.
“Get away from him, you foul creatures,” Móirín hissed between clenched teeth as they slid down the rocky incline between themselves and the group below.
It was only moments later when the battle began…and moments after that, it was ended.
Keeva was naturally quick to summon Lancelot, fear written plainly across her features as the massive eidolon appeared before her. Unlike Keeva, Lan was more than ready to fight as soon as he laid eyes on the corrupted Sidhe. Without a word or even a moment’s pause, he launched at Móirín, who responded in kind by lifting their gargantuan greatsword high above their head.
“Begone.”
Their blade swung down in a grand arc. Tiarnán could do little more than watch in horror as the greatsword cut the willowy eidolon in half, from right shoulder to left hip, with hardly any effort. Lancelot was gone in barely more than a breath.
It wasn’t until Keeva screamed that Tiarnán returned to himself.
With his face contorted in panic and desperation, the winter Sidhe threw himself in front of his partner, arms extended wide to protect the other Sidhe even as Leon, Iris and Fiona came to crowd in front of her.
“Móirín, no!” Tiarnán cried, his entire body giving off frazzled wisps of his very essence. “These are my friends! Do not hurt them!”
To his relief, Móirín hesitated, their blade lowering, though only by a fraction of an inch.
“Friends?” they echoed. “Tiarnán, darling, do not be foolish. They want to destroy you. Only I will keep you safe.”
Tiarnán couldn’t stop trembling (or perhaps that was just his imagination).
“No, Móirín. Whatever you think you see is a lie, a falsehood. They are my friends and they have been protecting me. They have been keeping me safe.”
Leon still stood behind him, ready to fight should Tiarnán fail to talk the corrupted Sidhe down. Although he was loathe to interject in what still had a chance to be a pleasant reunion, he still laid a large armored hand down on Tiarnán’s shoulder. He’d meant it as a means of reassurance, a reminder that the larger summer Sidhe would and did have his friend’s back, but…
It certainly wasn’t taken that way.
“Unhand him!” Móirín snapped, lifting their greatsword higher again and taking a pair of steps forward, their eyes firmly focused upon Leon’s lone point of connection with Tiarnán.
Tiarnán was quick to react, pulling away from his friend’s grasp to meet Móirín step for step. The two locked eyes.
Finally, after several tense moments, Móirín’s sword lowered again.
“You cannot trust them, my love, they wish to end you.”
“Móirín…” Tiarnán’s voice sounded as pained as his heart felt. “I understand that you cannot trust them, but please, please, trust me. You can do that, can’t you?”
The winter Sidhe could practically hear Fiona’s teeth grinding and feel Keeva’s palpable distress. It seemed only Leon and Iris were able to be calm, or at least keep up the facade of it.
Móirín remained still, watching Tiarnán with a guarded, contemplative expression. So long as they stayed focused on him, it seemed they did not recognize the rest of the party as a threat. So long as Tiarnán could keep their eyes on him and him alone, perhaps it would be alright…
“I would do anything for you, my soul,” Móirín finally whispered, their voice barely able to sneak its way out of them. “I would break myself to pieces to call you once by your name.”
“I know you would. I know you would, Móirín,” Tiarnán replied gently. “So please, do this. Trust me. Trust that I would not lie to you. Trust that these are my friends and no matter what your mind tells you, I am safe with them.”
“Tiarnán--" was all that Leon managed to get out before Móirín snarled again.
“Keep his name out of your mouth!”
Even Tiarnán flinched at the sharpness of their voice. Leon, though he had little means with which to make expressions, sounded almost like he was frowning.
“That’s unreasonable,” was all the summer Sidhe said, but it didn’t stop Móirín from giving another harsh bark of anger.
“The only unreasonable thing here is leaving him in your hands!” they snapped. It was this last sentence that pushed Tiarnán into action.
The winter Sidhe took another step forward, now separated from his partner only by the width of their greatsword. Although it still felt as though his hands were shaking, and perhaps they were, he still placed them over Móirín’s, cupping their hands even as they held the massive blade between them.
“No one would ask that of you. No one. Just keep your eyes on me, focus on me, and stay with me. We will be safe together. My friends and I – no, I – will help you.” Tiarnán’s voice was steady, though it felt like his anxiety would betray him at any moment. If his voice cracked for even a moment, he feared they would no longer believe in him, that they would strike again.
Móirín stared at him. They stared and they stared and Tiarnán’s hands tightened around theirs, despite the danger of the sword held right in front of his face.
“Please, Móirín.”
Still, they stared…until finally, finally, they gave a soft whisper in return. “I would do anything for you,” they repeated. “Anything at all. Even this.”
Tiarnán’s smile likely looked as nervous as he felt, but Móirín still returned it.
“I would do the same for you.”