Realistic or Modern The Fractured Isles

Her neighbor had been quiet since their discussion. She'd not seen him around for a while either, when she heard the boat was out it made sense. She'd worked quietly in that time, putting her head down and earning money to pay her rent and the many IOU's she'd accumulated in that first few days. With her father calling her more often, she had to toss her cell and buy an ancient model from the grocer, who also doubled as the convenience store.

Fae and Dean managed to drag her out of her hose for the festival. She had become uneasy and hyper-aware after the last of her father's messages. But, it would be a good time to meet the rest of the town and begin to pay back her IOUs. The Lughnasadh festival was certainly lively. The whole of main street was decorated and vendors lined the road with special treats and trinkets. The first hour or so Sersh spent hunting down her loan holders and paying them back. After that, Fae and Dean dragged her over to Lizzy's matchmaking stall.

"Oh, please!" She snorted. "I hardly have need of this. Nor do I want it!"

"Sit!" Lizzy cackled, and she was forced into a chair opposite her. The woman shuffled a white and silver tarot deck and spread it out before her in a half moon shape. "Pick three." Sighing, Sersh did so. The first card was flipped and Lizzy tutted her tongue. The Emperor, reversed. "The last love you had was controlling--domineering even. He wished to cage you. Caused you hurt." Sersh did her best to keep her expression neutral. The next card was The Fool, upright. "Ah! So you came to us to free yourself from your old bonds. You are such a wild spirit." Lizzy grinned, Sersh rolled her eyes. The last card was The Lovers, reversed. "Ah," Lizzy sighed. "You have a new love on the horizon, but you are so opposite that it will take much work to bring you together. perhaps a common interest." Her eyes glittered in a strange, sage way.

"Enough of this!" Sersh scoffed, standing and bumping head first into Tristan's broad chest. She looked up, her face flushing when she realized what he'd heard. She opened her mouth to speak, but paled when she spotted a figure over his shoulder. Grabbing his arm, she fled the table at top speed. She wound them through the crowd and behind an empty stall, where she placed him in front of her to block anyone from seeing her from the street. He tried to speak, but she covered his mouth with both her hands, fear making her eyes wide. When she found no trace of the figure on the street, she crumpled into a heap at his feet, her breathing erratic. Pressing both hands to her chest as she tried to steady her heat, a tear slipped from her eye. "Gods, I thought he'd found me!" She muttered, her voice full of relief.

Lughnasadh was quite the event, rich smells filled the air reminding Tristan of large gatherings and homecooked meals during the holidays. Joseph took him through the stalls, placating the grump of a man with locally brewed beer and freshly baked bread that was still warm to the touch. The men shared the bread as they wandered past brightly dressed people with flowers in their hair and an impressive fiddler who brought a lively tune to the towns events. Even Tristan couldn't deny how magical it all felt.

"Hey look! You're little spitfire is Lizzy's newest victim." Joseph gave Tristan's arm a nudge and directed his attention to the bright red stall with Lizzy's hand painted signage. The elderly woman was dressed to the nines in a ruffled Victorian-esque dress and her grey hair pulled up in a tight bun. "Let's see what's in store for her." Joseph all but dragged Tristan towards Saorise and her gathered friends. They pulled up just in time for the first card and Tristan's brows drew together- surely these bits of cardboard couldn't reveal such personal details. It was all just hooey in his eyes, but from the way Saorise's posture was iron straight he couldn't deny the sense that perhaps the cards were right.

He frowned as the lovers card was revealed and when Lizzy spoke of a love on Saorise's horizon he felt a deep pull of something within him. Was that... jealousy? Bah, certainly not. He and Saorise were nothing but acquaintances- he had no right to feel strongly about whatever company was in her future. Tristan was startled from his own wandering thoughts as Saorise rushed to her feet, almost toppling the chair over in her haste to leave. The next thing he knew was the fresh herby scent of her, the way she felt pressed up against him even if it was for just the briefest moment. Her cheeks went almost as red as her hair and he'd been about to offer her his last piece of bread when her gaze snagged on something beyond him.

Before he could even turn around to see what had captured her attention she had snagged him by the fabric of his shirt and was tugging him away from their group of friends. He heard the sounds of their laugher and jeers behind them but he didn't turn back. Saorise had once more caught him in her wake and it was all he could do but to follow her. She tucked them into an empty stall and before he could open his mouth to question her she stepped close once more and pressed the warmth of her palm against his mouth.

He could smell the lotion she'd used that morning, hints of lavender with another floral scent he couldn't quite place. He might have found the whole thing funny but it was the fear in her eyes that made him stand up to his full height, and when she seemed to shrink behind the cover he offered he did everything he could to make himself bigger. If she needed a shield he would be it.

She looked for long moments, and just as he was about to wrench his mouth free from her hand she crumpled to the ground, the rush of fear forcing tears from her eyes. Her breathing was ragged and he could see how she struggled to fill her lungs as panic overtook her. Instantly he was next to her, crouching to her level.

"Saorise, look at me." He demanded. He wanted to know who on earth she was talking about, but now wasn't the time. His large hand covered the ones that clutched to her chest, pressing her hands over her racing heart. "Breath with me." He took a deep inhale of breath, coaxing her gently to do the same. The breathed in an out together for a long while, and when he was certain her heart rate was slowing he let his hand drop from hers. He could still feel the warmth of her though and he fought the urge to touch her once more.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, he fell into temptation and reached to brush an errant lock of hair back behind her ear. "Who did you see Saorise?"

Her mind was still racing, even after Tristan helped calm her heart. His voice was so gentle and his hand so warm, that her attention was drawn to him. His eyes were soft but filled with worry. Why did he always see her in such terrible states?

"That bastard, McClain." She replied, her voice still shaking slightly. "I thought--I thought I saw him." She sat up a little more, running her fingers through her wild hair. As her thoughts tumbled over one another in haste, the sounds of the festival seemed to fade in and out. Songs being sung by all the passers by, music from instruments scattered along the street, vendors yelling and heckling. But her heart was frozen over with fear. Tristan helped her up and she leaned on the stall for support. "I can be gone by tonight." She muttered absently. "I've paid rent and everything for the month, I've got about hundred dollars now. That'll get me off the ferry and down the road about fifty miles." Her mind was racing with calculations. "Stupid, I shoulda used a fake name!" She wasn't really ready to leave Hythe, but she had little choice.

"What do you mean?" Tristan asked, his face a strange mix of anger and something she couldn't place.

"It's likely I saw a one'a his men." She replied "They're faster than I thought." She went to twist her mother's ring around her finger like she did when she was anxious, but found her finger bare. Her eyes widened. How long ago had she lost it?? Tears sprang to her eyes again. "Shit!" She cursed. "They must have my ring. They know I'm here." Absently, she hooked one finger through a belt loop in Tristan's pants, curling it around the slim piece of fabric like a lost child. Her throat was closing, and she drew herself closer to him, hiding in his shadow and looking suddenly, very small and frail. She needed warmth, just for a moment. This rude, grumpy man who had somehow wormed his way into her heart would do fine. Who knew how long it would be until she could trust someone again.

She released him, not coming close enough to really touch him. "I'm sorry, Eeyore." She sniffed quietly. "I've gotta go." Her accent was fully out now, and she turned to leave, only to feel his rough hand closing tightly around her wrist.

McCain. Tristan didn't know who he was or what he had done to Saorise but if she was planning on running away from everything and fleeing it surely had been terrible. Instantly Tristan hated this unseen man with every fiber of his being. He had no idea what Saorise was mixed up in but whatever it was it certainly terrified her. She rambled on and Tristan struggled to keep up with every word, and when she hooked a finger into his belt loop and tugged them closer he reacted on pure instinct wrapping his arms tightly around her and curling over her. When she shifted, trying to move away from him he had none of it and reached out to wrap a hand around her wrist.

"You're in no state to walk anywhere, let alone drive anywhere Saorise. You've just had a panic attack." Tristan tried logic first and when she tried once more to pull free from him he growled and tugged her closer. "No." He told her firmly, hooking his arm over her shoulder and anchoring her to him. "Damn it all, woman, I'll take you home and then you're going to sit down and explain everything before you go and make rash decisions." She looked up at him with such wide fearful eyes then he couldn't help the way his dark eyes softened. "Hush, now- I won't let anything happen to you." He promised.

Tristan navigated them through the crowds, avoiding the small group of friends that had clustered close and was clearly gossiping. They passed large families and heavily laden stalls and finally reached the parking lot. Tristan found her little Beetle and with some doing he managed to fit into the car and once he was assured Saorise was all buckled up he took her away from the festival and back up towards the quiet hills that had been their home for the past month. He kept glancing over at her, wondering what on earth was happening and when he finally reached their home he pulled up next to his car and parked the Beetle.

He held onto Saorise's keys and unlocked the door to her home, stepping aside and gesturing her in. He hesitated before stepping in, he thought of asking her if he could come in and make her a cup of tea but the poor woman looked like she had seen a ghost so he hoped that she might forgive him if he didn't ask permission before he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll put on the kettle." He gestured to her little loveseat that she'd acquired from a kindly woman who had been more than happy to let it go for a steal. He went about making tea and finally when two steaming mugs were sitting on the well worn coffee table he pulled up a dining room chair and sat directly in front of her his arms folded over his chest. "Why do you need to run Saorise?" He asked- his dark serious eyes were zeroed in on her.

Sersh let herself be directed by him, her mind still crammed with thoughts of escape. She would do her best to placate him before leaving. Tristan really had no idea what he was getting into when he offered to help her. Once she sat on the loveseat, Puck was upon her lap. He hunkered down there and gave Tristan a hard stare. Petting his coarse fur with one hand, she sighed softly.

"Simply?" She gave a harsh laugh. "I want to live, Mr. Connolly." She buried her hand into the hare's fur to ground herself. "My father sold me as a bride to McCain when I was 12. He was in debt to the Irish mafia, and there was some old contract. We were drowning in medical bills since my uncle died." She gave a shrug. "I don' blame him. Not really. Da hoped that it would give me a better life, away from poverty. They controlled our neighborhood and gave him loans to open his business. Seems dramatic, I know. I would marry him when I came of age, but I spent plenty of time around him before." She raised her free hand to him, showing that when she closed all her fingers side by side, her pinky stuck out at an odd angle.

"I got that for making him mad when I was fifteen. My other one matches, and I have six out of ten toes the same. Their version of discipline. If I made him angry or did poorly on my lessons to be a mistress. Being married to him was even worse. I ran away last year. I couldn't stand the thought of trying for a child with that man. If they catch me, they'll take me back no doubt. Prolly make me pop out an heir before killing me." She grimaced "Or worse. The only reason my Da is still alive is so they can track me--or use him as leverage."

"I know you're strong, but you can't stop an army, Mr. Connolly. Now they have proof I'm here," She twisted her empty finger out of habit, feeling the weight of the missing ring. "They'll start to hurt people here if they don't get answers. You see why I have to leave." His expression was entirely unreadable, save his stormy gaze. She tied back her hair with a scrunchie and reached for the cooling tea, Puck stubbornly refusing to move an inch.

In truth, Tristan wasn't quite sure what to believe. Saorise spun a tale filled with horror and when she revealed the odd angle of her finger he felt his hands curl into tight fists- he didn't doubt the truth of it all, but what on earth was he supposed to deal with this new knowledge. Tristan above all was a fixer, and if Saorise was correct by saying there was a small army of criminals after her then it was a problem that he couldn't even begin to handle. She seemed gearing up to start packing but it seemed her rabbit had other ideas, and refused to leave the space of her lap.

Tristan could feel the budding of a headache forming right between his eyes and he let out a long sigh, "I don't even know where to begin." He muttered. "Of course you'll turn your nose up at me if I suggest the police or law enforcement?" He peered up at her and when she did just that he lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose as full on pain burst behind his eyes. Tristan had always thought his patience was endless and that he was a mild, well mannered individual- but with the hot poker of pain between his eyes and the infuriating woman he once more found himself in a state of confused rage. He muttered a short expletive as he rose to his feet, the chair groaning against the floorboards. "Alright then." He all but seethed. "Good luck on wherever you find yourself next." He made haste for the door and pulled it open only have it slam tightly shut before he could take a step out and escape. With a growl he reached for the handle again and pulled only to have the door once more trap him inside.

"Saorise, this isn't funny." Tristan reached for the handle once more and hissed in pain finding the knob burning to the touch. Instantly he rounded on Saorise, ready to demand answers from her when books one after the other began to fall off the shelves, the pages flipping like they were caught in the wind.

The whole house began to shake as if stuck within a hurricane. Thudding and shattering came from all around them as things fell off the shelves form every room. Sersh hunkered down with Puck in her arms, backing away until she was crouched under the counter that hung over into the living room.

"Get down, you idiot!" She cried. He may be infuriating, but she didn't wish to see a roof come down atop him. But before he could move, the quaking stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun. The door swung open without Tristan touching it. Lizzy and Mary stood there in their nightdresses and dressing-gowns. Lizzy had her hair pinned up in pink curlers and Mary had hers up in a night cap. Both held flashlights and let themselves in, pushing past Tristan.

"Look at the mess you've made, boy!" Lizzy tutted. "This is why I said we should have come sooner! When they start manifesting like this it's always trouble." Mary rolled her eyes, placing her light on the table.

"Yes, yes, High Priestess. Right as always." Mary pulled a wand out from the pocket of her robe. She muttered something in a different tongue. Pink sparks shot out of the end, and all around them the house began to put itself back together. Sersh watched in awe as the mug on the rug rose up, and the spilled liquid removed itself from the fabric and slithered back into the cup, which placed itself neatly on the table. Her jaw hung open. "Come up here, dear." Mary said kindly, helping Saoirse up and settling her on the loveseat again.

"You." Lizzy ordered, looking at Tristan, pointing to the space beside Sersh. "Sit." He did so, perhaps only out of shock.

"You saw that, too, right Eeyore?" Sersh whispered to him, her eyes glued to the old women. They both laughed at the dumbstruck expressions on the young one's faces.

"That never gets old though. " Lizzy cackled, before composing herself. "Now, I know you will have questions, but first, you aren't going anywhere, Ms. Murphy." She looked over her shoulder and called to the still open door. "Fae!" The young woman came when beckoned, smiling at the pair on the couch. "Do you have it, girl?"

"Yes Grandma!" She replied happily, producing a shining object from her pocket. Sersh gasped loudly, springing up.

"My ring! But how??" Fae returned it to her and she clutched it to her chest, beginning to sob as she crumpled back down beside Tristan.

"Yes, yes, all will be explained in due time." Lizzy replied. "Now, we can protect you, but there is a condition. You BOTH must join our coven. I hate to be a bitty, but you must decide now. If you don't, we simply won't have the power to do it." Sersh didn't even need to think. Whatever was going on, she could feel it in her bones that it was right. She looked at Puck, who seemed to give a nod of approval.

"Of course I will! Whatever you need! Please....help me." Tears were still streaming form her eyes and her voice shook. All eyes then turned to Tristan, still silent in shock.

This was all too much, Tristan watched in a mixture of awe and horror as the two most unsuspecting elders swept into the house like the owned it and with a flick of their wrist they put the house back to rights. For half a moment he considered that he was dreaming and that soon he would wake up, but the matching look of shock on Saorise was what made him reconsider. Saorise had always been a wealth of joy in his dreams- though he'd take that secret to the grave. When they told him to sit, he did so without a thought, unable to keep his wide eyes off the room that had just moments before been in shambles.

He didn't understand a single word out of anyone's mouth and when Lizzy demanded he join a coven, whatever the heck that was he could only blink in surprise for a few moments as Saorise eagerly agreed with the woman's demands.

"This... This can't be real." He finally managed.

"Oh, it's real honey." Mary said kindly, reaching over to tap his chin and remind him to close his gaping mouth. "Didn't your mother ever teach you about the wild magical world under our fingertips?" Tristan caved in a little on himself at the mention of his mother. He didn't want to go there. "Ah, of course." Mary gave him a sympathetic pat before resting her hand over his. He chose his next words carefully.

"What do you mean by being able to protect Saorise?" He asked. "How can I be assured you'll keep her safe?" He didn't want to blindly trust them despite frantic pounding of his heart that yearned to say yes. "I mean," he scoffed at the thought, "what are two- forgive me- grandmothers able to do against the Irish mafia?" He wanted to laugh from how ridiculous those words felt leaving his mouth. "What the fuck was in my tea?" He muttered, dragging a hand down his face and pausing to blanch at his words in front of four women no less. He was better than that.

"Was us putting the house back together not enough proof for you?" Lizzy quirked a brow- she looked almost amused with him. "Men, I tell you. So blind even when solutions are in front of him. Tick tock young man- I get cranky when I don't have my full eight hours of sleep."

"Fine!" He muttered. "I'll join whatever it is that you need me to."

"That's the spirit dear. Fae honey- it's time to head back." Swiftly Lizzy, Mary and Fae stood. "Tomorrow, when the moon is high and the tides are low, join us on the beach for your initiation." With those final parting words Tristan blinked back his shock as the door shut neatly behind the women and once more he and Saorise were left to their own devices.

Sersh and Tristan stared at each other for a long while in silence. Puck seemed entirely unperturbed at the situation, hopping back over to his bowl to drink as if nothing strange had occurred at all. Suddenly, she jumped up and began to dance about the room giddily, touching the things that had been fixed with magic.

"I'm a WITCH!!!" She cried. "I can' believe it!!! I really am a witch!!!" Saoirse had always been interested in magic and witchcraft. Her family had a long history connected to the magic if Ireland, all the way back to having ties to the druids. She had always felt a connection to it, but thought it nothing more than a hobby. Dancing back over to the couch, she took Tristan's face in her hands and kissed his forehead joyfully, laughing aloud and singing a song in her mother tongue as she moved to clean up the tea. Magic might really be able to help her.

Once she finished cleaning up, she had an idea. Grabbing a knife from the kitchen, she rolled up a sleeve and made a shallow cut on her forearm, between her tattoos. Tristan jumped up, his eyes wide as she hissed. She put up a hand to stop him before grabbing a towel to staunch the blood. Looking up at him meaningfully, she spoke. "This is how we'll tell if it's a dream or not, Mr. Connolly. If there's no cut tomorrow, something was in the tea, yes?" At his distress, she rolled her eyes and beckoned him forward. He found the first aid kit under the sink and began to treat her wound properly, grumbling. "I can' believe we're witches!" She whispered to him, her eyes sparkling with hope and delight. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek again as he worked, giggling like a schoolgirl.

Saorise certainly seemed more in her element with each passing moment, it seemed the wilder things got the happier she was, while poor Tristan was left floundering in the shallows feeling like he couldn't catch up to the beautiful red head that had swam out to deeper waters. He'd never met someone so contrary, one moment she was ready to pack up and leave with tears in her eyes and within the space of an hour she was kissing him soundly on the forehead and dancing around the room like it was Christmas. Where Saorise found comfort Tristan felt pure uncertainty and out of control, how on earth was he supposed to help keep Saorise safe if he didn't know the first thing about witches and covens?

His grandmother might have mentioned it briefly in her journals but he'd always taken that as the ramblings of age. Saorise's sharp inhale of pain thrust him out of his inner spiral and he was quick to rise up and rush to her. He grumbled at how foolish she was to have hurt herself over something like this and she placated him with yet another kiss, this time to his cheek before she broke out into a fresh peel of giggles. Tristan resisted the urge to reach up and check Saorise's temperature; she probably wouldn't like that.

"Isn't it strange for a man to be a witch? I thought the verbiage was wizard?" He asked, after he placed the band-aid on her arm and placed the first aid kit away. "Jesus I can't even believe that I'm asking this." He ran a haggard hand down his face before raising it once more to run a hand through his dark black locks, sending them askew. "You truly think that this will protect you? What if you went to the police AND joined this coven or whatever it's called. It can't hurt to have a back up." He tried, doing his best to sound reasonable, though he couldn't get rid of all the snark in his tone.

Sersh replied immediately to his first question.

"No, witch is right. Wizard is a title for a whole different type of magic schooling." He looked mystified and she held back a laugh. "Wizards draw power from making spells through magic formulas. Witches draw power through connection to the earth." He still looked troubled. "Don' worry yeh pretty head too much. I'm sure they'll teach us everything we need to know." At his second inquiry, she rolled her eyes and had to stop herself from huffing. She could see how much he was trying to meet her halfway. "Fine. I'll talk to the police in town tomorrow after my shift. You can come get me and we can go to the beach together after. Happy?" He did look somewhat relieved. Police had never been able to help her before, but if it made him comfortable, what was the harm? They were far out of the sphere of McCain's influence now, anyway. NO cops on this dinky little island were likely to be dirty. At least, not from him.

Gently, Saoirse managed to shoo Tristan out and back into his own home to sleep. Though she feared she would be too excited to, her eyes were closed as soon as they hit the pillow.

The next day, she did mostly work in the back of the store. Fae seemed to have filled Dean in on some relevant details, and they were happy to keep her doing the books or counting stock. Time seemed to pass slowly, and her thoughts jumped from the coven, to McCain's men lingering around the island. She was a bit jumpy, but Fae brewed her a calming cup of tea on her lunch break with a sympathetic look. As they went about trying to close up shop, the bell tinkled. Saoirse stiffened again, then tried to get herself to relax before she heard Dean raising his voice.

"I'm sorry, there's no one here by that name. I'm the new hire you heard about. Those old ladies up the hill aren't all there, if you know what I mean." Heavy footsteps moved towards the back room, and Sersh squeezed herself behind the last stock shelf, hoping to remain hidden. "Sir! Sir! You can't go back there!! Hey!" She held her breath as the footsteps thudded around the room. They came closer, before Fae joined Dean in hassling the man out of the back and promptly out of the store.

Fae locked up and coaxed Sersh out from behind the shelf. The squeeze had left her covered in cobwebs and her face smudged with dust. Dean had gone out to fetch Tristan.
~~

It was a short run to the police station normally, but Dean took the long route, through backyards and alleys, just to be sure. Before popping out onto the street, he looked around. Once the coast was clear, he sprinted over to Tristan, nearly knocking him over. He bent over, panting hard.

"Came...to get...you..." He heaved, clutching his chest. He was more of an art gay, he didn't enjoy exercise. "Dude...showed up....looking for...oh god I'm so out of shape." Dean stood up, leaning against the building as she caught his breath.

"We'll be missing you on the boat this week Tristan." Normally Tristan might have felt remorse for the genuine way Joseph clutched at his well worn cap but after the events of the previous day Tristan wasn't going anywhere until he was assured Saorise was safe from the men that sought her out.

"Sorry again Captain. It unfortunately can't be helped." Tristan took a step back as Joseph patted his shoulder with such strength- he was sure the captain meant it to be a soothing gesture but with how strong the man was it felt almost as if he were weathering a storm. "I'll keep you updated as soon as things change with my... emergency." Tristan knew he wasn't a good liar and Joseph did him the kindness of not pointing it out. Instead both sailors wished each other well and Tristan turned to head back to his car when Dean almost bowled him over in his haste. The man could barely get his words out through his wheezes and Tristan felt his back go straight with anticipation as the gleaned the meaning behind the haggard words.

"Where is she?" He growled.

"At-At the store." Dean managed to heave out before Tristan abandoned him and was rushing towards the little bookstore. He was there within minutes, even though it felt like eons before the happy little bell jingled announcing his arrival. Tristan muscled past a few customers mingling in the overstocked shelves and rushed towards the till. He didn't bother with asking before he was in the back room and Saorise was in his sights. She looked like she'd fallen into the dustiest of attics but unharmed nevertheless.

"You're safe?" He demanded to know. "No one has hurt you?" Even if she spoke he took a step forward and before he could stop himself he had her chin gripped in his hand as he examined her. "Why is it that I'm always worrying over you Little Witch?" He muttered, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction when he truly did find her unharmed. Quickly he let her go and took a protective step back.

"We need to move up this initiation or whatever it is." Tristan turned to Fae who blinked up at him with a sort of far of look in her eye.

"Er- well I'm afraid we can't. The magic doesn't work like that." Fae's hands gripped themselves. "It's only a few more hours." She added, though it wasn't at all helpful.

"Then, I guess you're stuck with me until this is over." Tristan turned to Saorise and lifted a hand in warning. "I know I'm butting in now and taking charge without asking you and you can punish me for it later but damnit you're not leaving my sight until I'm assured you're safe."

Sersh rolled her eyes, pushing down the strange sensation that had run through her when his hand gripped her chin. Despite his meddling, it was something of a comfort to have the mountain of a man beside her. Fae told them to be on the beach by nine o'clock that night, and she was herded out of the store by Tristan. He marched her over to the police station and sat her down at a detective's desk. He stood behind her with his arms folded, looking down expectantly. Huffing, Sersh combed the cobwebs out of her hair and threw it up into a ponytail, hitting his torso with the ends of it as she did so.

"What seems to be the...issue, ma'am?" She looked down at his name plate and put on a smile.

"Hello, Detective Smith. I'd like to report a few stalkers on the island. I'm afraid they've followed me here." The ma quirked his brow, skeptical.

"That's a pretty serious claim, miss...?"

"Murphy." She supplied. He began to scribble things down in his notebook.

"Why do you think you have stalkers?" She gave Tristan an 'I told you so' look before jerking her thumb at him.

"He can vouch for me. So can Fae and Dean from the bookstore. There's at least two men that followed me here and wish me harm. Maybe more. I don't know what they look like but they're asking around town about me." The detective sighed an sat back in his chair.

"This is all pretty vague, Ms. Murphy. It's good that you have witnesses, but we can't do anything until they harm you. Coming to the island and asking around about a new resident is not uncommon--or illegal. I'll file this away in case there are more incidents, but I'm afraid that's all I can do."

"Thank you for your time." Saorise stood up, shaking his hand before turning to look at Tristan. "Well? What now?"

The visit to the police station went about as well as Saorise had said it would and Tristan found he couldn't help the was his fingers dug into her folded arms as he stood sentry over her. Surely this wasn't how to police handled all matters? If that was the case perhaps he understood a little more why women so infrequently chose to visit the police. Certainly that had far more useless than he would have anticipated. He gave the officer a stern disappointed look over his shoulder as he held the door open for Saorise and she led them back out into the salty air of Hythe.

"Hmm." He rumbled out at her question of now what. "Something to eat, and a drink." He muttered darkly. He didn't want to give Saorise the satisfaction of his admittance that she was right but certainly she could glean that from his prickly aura. They walked down the cobbled streets of the the town together, walking past dusty window displays in stores and past those that mingled through the town with nary a care in the world. Tristan envied them as they walked into Last Round and found a cozy little corner booth tucked under a large replica of a marlin fish, it's glistening nose piercing through the air.

"Tristan, you're usual?" A stunning waitress asked with a bright beam of a smile. He'd come here often enough with the crew to already have a usual and that was one light in the strange fog of a life he found himself in. Tristan liked being settled, nested.

"Yes thank you Ellie." Tristan puased, letting Saorise order as well before wishing Ellie thanks as she left to retrieve their drinks. It occurred to him then that this was one of the longest times they had gotten on relatively well and he turned to Saorise with a slight suspicious tilt to his head. "Why aren't you chewing me out for rushing there. I would have thought I would have needed to drag you here kicking and screaming." Only the smallest quirk of his brow gave away that he found the image amusing.

"And have you cause an even bigger scene scolding me like some sort of errant child? I think not." She snorted. One of her large, glittering earrings had gotten caught in her hair, so she took it down, and with practiced fingers began to braid the wild mane over her shoulder. She didn't even need to look. The rings on her fingers glinted in the sunlight that fell through the windows, her bracelets clinking against each other almost musically. "Besides, I knew what would happen at the station. I wanted to get you off my back about it." The waitress returned, depositing their drinks on the dark, glossy oak wood of the table and giving Tristan a flirty wink.

"The food'll be out shortly." Saoirse gave a small, dry laugh, finishing up her hair.

"Well, glad to know you've been making friends without me, Eeyore." She teased. Tristan gave a loud snort and she grinned devilishly in response. "I know why you're single--being wound so awfully tight and all--but I bet you still get plenty of offers. It's not like you're an eyesore."

The food came--the smell wafting out to greet them just before the plates were placed. Sersh had to admit that Hythe had terribly good food. It reminded her of when her father used to cook, before he got busy with his business. They ate a while in silence, enjoying the food. "What shall we do after this, boss?" She asked. "Go back home?" She didn't like being out in the open like this, even with him here. She felt too exposed. The bell to the door jingled as it opened, and Sersh carefully slid father down in the booth seat, so his back shielded her from whoever was entering. It was another pair of townsfolk come in for lunch, and she sighed audibly.

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she relaxed, and she went back to her lunch, wondering if Fae and Dean were alright after their scare this afternoon.

"If you keep talking about how many offers I've been getting from the local woman, I might have to think that you're jealous Saorise." Tristan said after their waitress left them with the drinks. He took a hearty gulp of the local IPA as Saorise scoffed at him. Of course he knew deep down Saorise was nothing of the sort, but it was amusing to see the gleam of righteous indignation she sent him as she finished braiding her wild mane of hair back.

He enjoyed the simple silence that fell between them as they ate their meals, and when the door opened later letting in a couple of townsfolk Tristan didn't miss the was Saorise sunk low in her seat- doing her best to avoid being seen. He instinctively straightened, puffing out his chest the smallest amount and became the shield she silently asked for. He did his best to avoid the rapid increase of his heart when she sought him as shelter- it wasn't anything to loose his head over.

"Yes." He responded gruffly to her question of if they should return home and after they finished and paid for their meals he walked out with her into the bright street and they headed for their cars. Tristan made sure to keep close to her little VW as they drove back up the winding hill that led them back to their attached cottages. There they spent the rest of the day anxiously lifted their heads from their books or screens to the nearby clock only to see that five minutes had passed since they last looked.

Tristan finally breathed out a sigh of relief as the last of the suns rays disappeared beyond the horizon and the clock ticked ever closer to the time that they would meet under the stars.

"Come on then." Tristan rose from the sofa, avoiding Puck and his beady little eyes and stepped to the door. As always he opened the door for Saorise and walked out after her. Together they followed the footpath that lead them down to the beach, neither of them finding the words to mention the weight of the magic on the air around them.

Saoirse was half scared and half excited. The afternoon has passed like molasses, she was on edge and jittery the whole time. She didn't miss that Tristan was, too. As they walked down the footpath and the soil turned to sand, her heart began to pound. The full moon above them shown brightly, and donw the beach a ways there was a group of people gathered. Dean met them at the bottom of the path and gave a nod, linking a small chain across the pathway with a "PRIVATE PROPERTY" sign on it. It seemed he would be the lookout.

They made their way down to the group, it had nine people in it. The two old women, Fae, two middle aged women, a teen boy and a young girl. They all wore normal clothes, though Lizzy bore a crown woven of thorns and flowers. Each carried a skinny black candle, it. They formed a circle around the newcomers. Sersh reached out and squeezed the sleeve of Tristan's shirt tightly before letting go, her eyes glittering.

"I know this is quite a rushed initiation, and they have no sponsors for them. Do all within the coven still accept these initiates?"

"Yes, High Priestess." The others echoed in sync. She gave a small nod. "Good. We must do this quickly, so I will have to make substitutions. As penance for breaking ritual I will personally tend to the wellspring for the next month. Is this satisfactory?" Another agreement came from them, and she turned to the two and began to speak. "Who comes to the gate?" She asked them.

"Saoirse Murphy." Sersh replied.

"Tristan Connolly." Tristan said.

"You are about to realize the magic sleeping within your blood. To enter a place beyond imagining, where birth and death, dark and light, joy and pain, meet and make one. You are about to step between the worlds, beyond time, outside the realm of your human life. You who stands on the threshold, have you the courage to make the essay? For know it is better to close your spirit and retreat than to make the attempt with fear in your heart!" Fae came forward quickly and whispered the words to them.

"I tread the path with perfect love and perfect trust." They responded in unison.

"Then prepare for death and rebirth." The circle opened and the High priestess motioned at the ocean to them. Without looking back, Sersh ran full ahead and dove in. A splash beside her moments later indicated that Tristan had joined her. The cold salt water seemed to wake her senses, the air now feeling vibrant and alive in her lungs. They climbed out of the surf and stood again in the circle.

"Are you willing to swear the oath?"

"We are." they replied.

"Are you willing to suffer to learn?"

"We are." They affirmed again.

"Then repeat after me." Elizabth said. " I do of my own free will most solemnly swear to protect, help and defend my sisters and brothers of the Art and to keep the Coven's Charge. I always keep secret all that must not be revealed. This do I swear on my mother's womb and my hopes of future lives, mindful that my measure has been taken, and in the presence of the light of all things.. All between my two hands belongs to the craft." They repeated it, and all the candles flared up, bright white and almost blinding. "Quickly, now join the circle. We must complete the spells while the moon is still high." The moon had risen to it's apex during the initiation. Time somehow speeding forward and slowing down.

Tristan joined the circle, and Saoirse knelt int he middle, everyone overlying their hands onto her head. Fae scattered ingretiants around her, then pressed a handful of Pomegranate seeds into her palms.

"We protect our sister by giving her our power. She may change shape to all those not within the coven. All outside our scared trust will not know her to be here. We take part of her to hide within ourselves, and give her our faces to use." Everyone gave a murmur of agreement, and Sersh shoved the handful of seeds into her mouth and ate them quickly. When the others backed away, they could see her shift and shimmer, as if parts of each person overlapped her own. "Good." LIzzy said. "Everyone, go home quickly. We will meet at the wellspring in four days. Fae and Josh will be in charge of bringing the initiates to us. We will properly introduce you to all you are owed, then." She gave each a friendly squeeze on the hand before following the others to scatter. When everyone had gone, Sersh let out a whoop and crashed into Tristan, hugging him with all her strength. Tears bubbled up in her eyes and began to fall as her laughter turned to sobs.

"I'm free?" She stuttered, almost in disbelief. "I....I think I'm finally free!"

If he hadn't just bore witness to the magical change the surrounded Saorise like a comforting blanket he might have thought he was loosing his mind. Tristan felt no different as he rose and bid the group farewell, promising to meet them again in four days time. His mind spun around Lizzy's words trying to make sense of them. He hadn't missed the witches inference to the magic that lay deep within him, but before he had a chance to even scan his body more deeply Saorise was throwing herself into his arms and he reacted on pure instinct. His arms wove around her, pulling her tight to him and even lifting her the barest degree off the sand.

They both were wet and their cold clothes stuck to each other as they pressed their bodies close together. He found himself aware of the heat of her, and the curves that seemed so much softer than any part of him. Her laughter changed its tune then and Tristan pulled back the slightest degree to see thick tears mingling with the sea water on her face. For half a moment he thought he'd done something to upset her, but then she spoke- whispering her disbelief in her freedom.

"We'll have to test it before we go on thinking like that." He muttered, though he knew whatever magic had been created was working, even now he could see the shimmer of the glamour working to protect her. "Come, lets both get inside and dry off before we catch a cold." He wasn't sure why but Tristan led Saorise back to his cottage, he opened the door for her and led her right up the stairs. He didn't think to mention that she could just wander over to her own shower next door and use her own clothes, he liked the thought of her wrapped up in his thick grey sweatpants and college sweater. Once the shower was steaming he left her there with a towel and clothes and worked on shedding his own soaked linens in the privacy of his bedroom. Soon he wore matching sweats to the one he'd given her to use, (he didn't see the point of multiple different types of lounge wear when these worked just fine.)

He moved back downstairs, rubbing his hands against the chill that had set in he worked to get some tea on the stove and while the water bubbled Tristan looked down at his calloused worn hands as if they were new. He wondered for a moment what sort of magic lay deep within him and though he felt completely stupid for doing so, he reached his hand out and looked over at the nearby light switch willing it to move. His ego wouldn't let him mutter any sort of incantation that he'd heard in movies or books, and so instead he stared at that damn bit of plastic in his wall and concentrated.

When nothing happened he dropped his hand, muttering obscenities to himself as the water almost boiled over. He'd be surprised the next morning to find the sunflowers Saorise outside had seemed to double in size over night, ready to bloom well before their season, but for now he'd put the tea on for the both of them and settled back into his sofa chair waiting for Saorise to return.

Sersh was in the shower a long time. She had crumpled to the floor and let the water rain over her, muffling her sobs with her hands. Years of tension and fear seeped out of her body and melted down the drain with the hot water. She felt the change come over her, like a veil laid over her whole body. Gods, she hoped this worked. It had to. This was her last resort. Breathing was not difficult, but...different. Like the sharpness of the winder cold pricking at your lungs.

When she managed to stand again, she grimaced at Tristan's shower products. All terrible, man-scented things that would give her split ends and dry skin. As she washed, she thought of his taught body against hers as he caught her on the beach. How tenderly he held her and how gently he helped her back up the hill. Saoirse shook her head, trying to clear it of frivolous thoughts. She washed most of the salt and brine from herself, and left the shower. Her jewelry clogging up the vanity as she shed it, each piece would have to be washed later. Saoirse left on her mother's ring, of course, and found the cloths he'd left her. Of course, he'd forgotten to give her underwear--not that she wished to wear his boxers along with his sweats. If it stained later, she'd just apologize.

Sersh padded down the stairs, the clothes hanging off her and her hair up in a towel turban. She found Tristan on the couch with tea--in matching clothes no less. She let out a laugh, which scratched uncomfortably at her throat. Sitting down, she said

"Well, I didn't know you wanted to see me all dressed up for you so badly, Eeyore. We're a matching set." She took the mug he offered her and grinned as his face reddened a little. The tea was warm, and the warmth seeped into her fingertips, the soft scent of lavender wafting up from the cup. She sipped it gratefully. "Oh, I'll need your help picking out a new name." Tristan gave her a look like she'd grown another head. Sersh rolled her eyes. "I can't see the glamour. Everyone on the Island will be needing a name to call me. What does she look like to you? Stacy? Isabelle? Perhaps something like Molly?" Sersh wondered what she looked like to him, now. "Is she pretty? Describe her to me." Playfully, she added "Am I prettier now, or before?"

Saorise came down the stairs absolutely engulfed by his clothes, she'd needed to roll up the pant legs multiple times and the sleeves of his shirt ate up her small hands that he noticed were no longer covered in rings and baubles. The glamour worked its magic even then, and the tilt of the jaw he'd come to recognize was different now, softer, rounder. Gone were the eyes that had looked at him in anger, replaced now with a new colour and entirely different shape. If he peered close enough and focused his eyes he could just barely make out the woman that existed underneath, but it hurt to look as hard as he was, almost like she was the sun and he'd been punished for looking too closely.

She teased him at their matching attire while sitting next to him on the couch, her body sinking into the plush cushions right next to him. He caught the whiff of his body wash on her and decided he much preferred the scent of whatever she'd been using instead. She surprised him when she asked him for a new name and of the names she listed he straightened a little at the last one that slipped off her tongue.

"That was my Grandmothers name." He told her, surprised that she'd chosen that one of all the names. "Molly suits you." He tilted his head a little, watching her through the curling steam of the tea that she held close. He considered how to describe the woman he was seeing. "You're eyes are more almond shape now, smaller than the big ones you used to glare at me with." He told her. "Smaller lips, darker skin, less freckles." He missed seeing the spattering that had once been across her nose, though perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Every time he'd lingered over those little constellations he'd wondered if she'd been covered head to toe with little stars. "The old you was much nicer." He said honestly, lost in his own thoughts, "Though I'm sure you'll be fending off offers by the days end in the morrow." He muttered.

"Does it feel strange?" He asked, genuinely curious. "Do you feel... magic?" He looked almost pained to say the last word.

Sersh smiled at the soft expression on his face as she said the name.

"Molly it is then." She agreed. She listened as he described her, doing her best to picture the woman in her mind's eye. Sersh was taken aback by his compliments, laughing a little at the annoyed tone in his voice. "Thank you." She said, before thinking about his question. "I do feel a little different, in my body." She pressed one hand to her chest, feeling the thrum of her heart under her fingertips. "It feels...easier to breathe. I feel lighter, more awake. Like all my senses are sharper, just enough to be noticeable. As for the glamour, it feels...like my wedding veil." She said softly, gripping the mug with white knuckles. "Just something light draped over me. It doesn't feel any different to move or speak.

Memories of her wedding day made her sad and nauseous. The feeling of the ornate satin dress weighed down with jewels and ornaments dragging over the church carpet. The gaudy jewelry that pricked her skin, glittering in the light filtering in through the stained glass. The muffled clacking of her heavy heels, the trembling of her hands as they clutched the bouquet of white lilies. The vice grip of her father's hand on her arm. And the veil...the cathedral veil with scalloped lace covering her head to toe. The last thing keeping him from touching her. She didn't feel beautiful. She felt trapped, like an object being traded. Saoirse opened her eyes to Tristan kneeling before her, hands hands clasped over hers as they gripped the tea mug. She felt hot tears on her cheeks as she took in a deep breath, still shaking slightly.

"O-oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize. I'm fine, really." She pulled one hand away and quickly mopped up her tears with the rolled up sleeve of the sweatshirt. He was still looking up at her with pity in his eyes. "Oh, come off it, Eeyore. Don't look at me like I'll break to pieces any moment. I'm a good, sturdy Irish girl. Takes more than a few old memories to break me." She pulled the mug out of his hands and chugged the lukewarm tea.

There was something awfully helpless in watching someone relive memories that they'd rather not see again. There wasn't any way for Tristan to pull her back from an awful day that he was certain would have made him see red if he'd been privy to it. As soft tears trailed down her round cheeks Tristan did the only thing he could think of, he slipped to his knees in front of her, the rug soft against his kneeling frame as he clutched her tiny hands between his, hoping that the touch might bring her back to the present with him.

Soarise was quick to return to him, and he watched with keen eyes as she quickly wiped the tears from her cheek and when she noticed his stare she was even quicker to put shoo him away.

"Yes, I doubt there's anything that could break you Saorise." He'd seen her fire enough to know this was merely a bump in her route forward. "A friend can still mourn with a friend can they not?" When she merely shrugged at him he returned to his spot next to her on the sofa and leaned back. "Shall we watch a movie?" He asked, thinking of something that could take her mind off the memories. He let Saorise pick and together they settled back to watch what she had chosen.

There was an easy silence about the two of them as the living room flickered with the changing of the scenes on the Television and when it was finished Tristan wished Saorise good night. He even walked her to her door, despite the two steps it took and when he returned to his bed he once more dreamed of her.

Sersh was woken up by quite a banging on her door. Groggy from the late night, it took her a moment to wake enough to stumble down the stairs. Puck decided to stay in bed, lucky bastard. When she answered the door, her heart dropped down into her stomach. Two henchmen stood on her stoop, peering into her home and looking over her with scrutiny.

"Sorry for the rude awakening, ma'am." The first said. They flashed their badges at her, NYPD. "I'm detective O'Hare, and this is my partner, detective Smith. We're searching for a missing woman and have some questions for you. It won't take long." Thank god she'd left her jewelry at Tristan's. She would have to change up her look a bit just in case.

"Alright." She said, doing her best to stifle a fake yawn. They held up a picture of Saoirse herself in her wedding dress. She suppressed a shiver.

"Have you seen this woman, or heard of someone name Saoirse Murphy?" Sersh inspected the picture before returning it. "No, sorry. But I only just arrived here. I rent this place once a year." She gave a shrug. Smith was inspecting her car, thank god she'd changed the plates.

"Is this your car, miss...?"

"Tanner. Molly Tanner." She supplied. "And no, it's the owner's. I prefer to walk." He gave a nod before coming back to the stoop. O'Hare looked into her living room, over her shoulder.

"And that pen?" Sersh folded her arms, giving them a questioning look.

"I don't see what that has to do with it, but I foster puppies for the locals while I'm here. I'm a dog trainer. I'm between litters right now."

"Right." He scribbled that down in his notes before handing her a card. "Please call us if you see that woman or get any information. She may be a danger to herself or others." She took the card.

"Alright, I will. I hope you guys find her soon." She closed the door when they stepped away, locked it and quickly went out the back. She cracked open Tristan's garden door and hid in the bushes to listen in as they questioned him.

The rough pounding of fist against door had Tristan bolting up, the sheets tangling with his legs in his plight to jump into action. Cursing at himself and whomever it was that pounded relentlessly against the door at an ungodly hour, Tristan rushed down the stairs and for the door. His dark hair was dishevelled and he was the picture of a surly sea captain as he opened it and saw the men standing on his front porch. The two of them were quick to flash their badges before he could demand their quick exit from his home.

"Evening, I'm detective O'Hare and this is detective Smith- we were just hoping to ask you a few questions on a missing woman." O'Hare didn't offer him a smile and Tristan couldn't help but straighten as whispers of warming tickled down his spine. O'Hare pulled out a folded photo and it took Tristan a moment to recognize the woman under pounds of silk and lace. There was Saorise, though she looked nothing like the fiery woman who he'd come to know over their month of being neighbours. "Her name is Saorise Murphy and her family is quite worried about her. We've heard that she might have been seen around these godforsaken parts." O'Hare glared towards the hill that led down to the sea, his lip curled like the view of the stars glimmering over the ocean's waters were abhorrent.

Tristan took the picture, his gaze narrowed on Saorise's face, he could make out the wrinkles of worry around her eyes and mouth, even under the layers of pristine make-up for her special day, but most of all he saw the fear in those eyes- it was the same look she got anytime she'd hidden behind his frame or used him for cover.

"Hmm." Tristan drew out the moment, considering the picture and making the 'detectives' shuffle their feet in impatience. "What makes you say she's missing?" He asked and the detectives glared between each other before O'Hare answered.

"Her family filed a report of course. That's why we're here, Mr..." O'Hare trailed off, clearly asking for Tristan's name.

"She doesn't look familiar. But I'll keep an eye out officer." Tristan didn't bother to answer the question. "I suggest you knock on others doors at a more reasonable time." He leveled the men with a stern look.

"You're certain? We've had quite a few witnesses say they have seen her. How odd that you haven't." O'Hare rushed out before Tristan could shut the door on the man's face.

"Do I look like a liar to you officer?" Tristan's frown might have given a weaker man heart palpitations but O'Hare merely blinked at him in surprise.

"It is a felony to hinder a police investigation, sir." O'Hare all but growled.

"Then it's a good thing I've told you all I know. Good night." With that Tristan snapped the door shut on O'Hare's bulging eyes and reddening cheeks. He look down at the picture he hadn't bothered to return for long moments, standing near the front door until he heard the crunch of tires as the detectives drove away. He wasn't sure how he knew but Tristan peered over his shoulder, his eyes finding the cracked open door and seeing the little shadow that he knew to be Saorise. There was something about her presence, it wasn't a scent or anything but a feeling that reminded him a fields filled with flowers.

"You can come out now, little witch."

When Tristan called for her, she stood and opened the door all the way to enter. Closing it behind her, she leaned against it and sighed.

"Sorry you had to go through that on my account." She said sheepishly. "I wonder how many other people they've harassed. I hope they leave now that the charm's set in." She'd forgotten that she'd changed into a long navy nightgown pattered with gold suns and moons embroidered on it, a matching robe over top. The robe wasn't closed, and was slipping down her left shoulder, exposing the thin silk strap that held the gown up and a starburst of freckles. Tying her hair up, she moved into the kitchen, starting the coffee pot. "Let me make you breakfast, as an apology." Saorise didn't wait for him to answer, rummaging around in his cabinets. When she found nothing to her liking, she went back to her place, retrieving the necessities for pancakes.

She returned, being sure to wipe her feet thoroughly on the mat before going back tot he kitchen to continue her work. Soon enough the smell wafted through the house, she placed his coffee on the counter beside a stack of pancakes, full of berries and chocolate chips. Butter melted on top and she had syrup beside the plate. With a small flourish, she sprinkled some powered sugar on the whole thing.

"Bon apatite!" She said cheerfully, in nearly perfect french. Smiling at him, she started to make her own. "Do you think we should talk to some others at the coven about this? Or should we wait? We aren't publicly friends with most of them, so we don't have a real reason to start a conversation." Sersh flipped the pancake deftly, chewing on the corner of her lip as she thought.