Fic: Memento Vivere 1/1 [G] Methos, OFC, Highlander/(Torchwood)
Title: Memento Vivere
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Highlander, but set in my Highlander/Torchwood AU
Characters/pairing: Methos, OFC (Siannon O'Niall), background Methos/Jack/Ianto
Rating/Spoilers: G. No Spoilers. Takes place during S2 in the Torchwood scheme of things.
Warnings: None
Summary: Methos visits his friend Siannon at midsummer
Disclaimer: BBC and RTD own the Torchwood characters. Panzer/Davis Productions own this concept of immortality and Methos. Siannon O'Niall however is mine.
No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.
A/N: The title is Latin and literally means Remember that you have to live, the opposite of Memento Mori. Written for consci_fan_mo using mad_jaks prompt of Higlander; Methos, any; mead. It also fills a prompt on my OC challenge table: summer. Other fic in this series can be read from here in chronological order.
~*~
Memento Vivere
*
Warmth soaks into him as the lazy breeze, redolent with meadowsweet and dog-rose, drifts around him and the midsummer sun caresses his skin, bright beyond his closed eyes. Methos settles even deeper into the soft grass and moss that carpets the old graveyard with a sigh of contentment; he loves summer days like this when the air is clear and the sun is warm, it reminds him of home. The creak of the old lych gate and the soft thud of footsteps approaching break through the peaceful sounds of summer as the thrum of another immortal sings along his nerves but he doesn't bother opening his eyes; this is Holy Ground and Siannon's home. She settles next to him without a word, humming softly under her breath, the quiet drone of bees and the chirrup of birds her only accompaniment. He cracks open an eye to glance at her as the melody fades into the heavy air.
"Good visit?" He asks as Siannon falls silent; it's her tradition to head down the hill at certain turnings of the year to check on the spring and its ancient sentinel yew and while he's gone with her before, this time they both needed to be alone with their thoughts for a while. She mumbles something vaguely positive sounding in reply before lapsing into silence once more.
The shadows are beginning to lengthen when she next stirs and Methos stretches languidly, flexing his toes as she scrambles upright, too comfortable to move from his current position.
"You've got sunburn," she announces. Methos deigns to open an eye and look at her.
"It's not exactly going to kill me, is it?"
"You'll freckle."
He can't stop the laughter from bubbling to the surface at that.
"You're a fine one to talk. Besides, Jack likes freckles."
"And Ianto?"
"I have no idea, but I'm sure I'll find out."
"I just bet you will." She's chuckling as she walks away, leaving him to pleasant thoughts of Jack and Ianto in the sunshine though he's fairly sure Ianto would draw the line at sex in a graveyard, even a disused one. A smile stretches his face as he imagines how he and Jack might try to persuade Ianto otherwise.
Methos is still smiling when he hears Siannon return, her footfalls punctuated by the chink of glass. He shuffles into a more upright position, eyebrow raised in a silent query - she's holding the bottle behind her back and he can't see what it is.
"Close your eyes, and no peeking," she admonishes as she passes him a glass. He complies and his reward is the slosh of liquid being poured into the glass. He takes a careful sniff and is assailed by the scents of summer; honey, flowers, sunshine and a faint herbal undertone.
"Mead?" His voice betrays his pleasure but he should have guessed in advance; mead is a very appropriate drink to celebrate summer and Siannon has always been fond of it.
"Meddeglyn," she replies. It's a fine distinction, but one he appreciates. His eyes remain closed as he takes his first sip and the flavours explode across his tongue evoking memories of other times and places and most importantly, people.
"This is not just any meddeglyn," Methos says as he opens his eyes. "It's Darius' recipe."
"I knew you'd recognise it." There's a barely audible catch in her voice but Methos understands; he misses Darius too. He gives Siannon a brief hug as she settles beside him and raises his glass.
"To Darius," he says and Siannon echoes him softly. It's an appropriate time, place and way to remember the man who turned his back on darkness and spent the rest of his life trying his best to bring light into the life of both mortal and immortal in so many ways and it feels good to share memories of him with another, despite the fact that Methos more than once called Darius a misguided fool while he was alive.
They're laughing by the time the last drop has been poured from the bottle, the sunset painting the sky in fiery shades of red and gold that herald the end of the day. Methos smiles, it's been a good day and just what he needed. There aren't many people who know him as Methos and there are fewer still who will allow him to be *just* Methos with no expectations of anything else. Siannon is one, and the others… he can't stop the grin that creeps unbidden across his face.
"Cardiff tomorrow, then?" Siannon asks with a knowing smirk.
"I think so."
"I'm not surprised you needed to recharge your batteries," she says, laughing. "After all, an old man like you must find it difficult to keep up with…" Methos silences her by throwing one of his discarded socks at her head, but he's laughing too. Life is good, and he refuses to borrow trouble by admitting it won't continue that way. Maybe he needs to remember his past for his own health, but right now he's living ferociously for the moment; the future can wait.
*
A/N 2: If anyone is wondering what the hell this is doing being set in a graveyard, it's because my OFC Siannon O'Niall lives in a house that is built around an old country chapel, complete with surrounding graveyard. The neighbours are quiet at least.
This entry was originally posted at http://a-lanart.dreamwidth.org/218967.html.
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Highlander, but set in my Highlander/Torchwood AU
Characters/pairing: Methos, OFC (Siannon O'Niall), background Methos/Jack/Ianto
Rating/Spoilers: G. No Spoilers. Takes place during S2 in the Torchwood scheme of things.
Warnings: None
Summary: Methos visits his friend Siannon at midsummer
Disclaimer: BBC and RTD own the Torchwood characters. Panzer/Davis Productions own this concept of immortality and Methos. Siannon O'Niall however is mine.
No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.
A/N: The title is Latin and literally means Remember that you have to live, the opposite of Memento Mori. Written for consci_fan_mo using mad_jaks prompt of Higlander; Methos, any; mead. It also fills a prompt on my OC challenge table: summer. Other fic in this series can be read from here in chronological order.
~*~
Memento Vivere
*
Warmth soaks into him as the lazy breeze, redolent with meadowsweet and dog-rose, drifts around him and the midsummer sun caresses his skin, bright beyond his closed eyes. Methos settles even deeper into the soft grass and moss that carpets the old graveyard with a sigh of contentment; he loves summer days like this when the air is clear and the sun is warm, it reminds him of home. The creak of the old lych gate and the soft thud of footsteps approaching break through the peaceful sounds of summer as the thrum of another immortal sings along his nerves but he doesn't bother opening his eyes; this is Holy Ground and Siannon's home. She settles next to him without a word, humming softly under her breath, the quiet drone of bees and the chirrup of birds her only accompaniment. He cracks open an eye to glance at her as the melody fades into the heavy air.
"Good visit?" He asks as Siannon falls silent; it's her tradition to head down the hill at certain turnings of the year to check on the spring and its ancient sentinel yew and while he's gone with her before, this time they both needed to be alone with their thoughts for a while. She mumbles something vaguely positive sounding in reply before lapsing into silence once more.
The shadows are beginning to lengthen when she next stirs and Methos stretches languidly, flexing his toes as she scrambles upright, too comfortable to move from his current position.
"You've got sunburn," she announces. Methos deigns to open an eye and look at her.
"It's not exactly going to kill me, is it?"
"You'll freckle."
He can't stop the laughter from bubbling to the surface at that.
"You're a fine one to talk. Besides, Jack likes freckles."
"And Ianto?"
"I have no idea, but I'm sure I'll find out."
"I just bet you will." She's chuckling as she walks away, leaving him to pleasant thoughts of Jack and Ianto in the sunshine though he's fairly sure Ianto would draw the line at sex in a graveyard, even a disused one. A smile stretches his face as he imagines how he and Jack might try to persuade Ianto otherwise.
Methos is still smiling when he hears Siannon return, her footfalls punctuated by the chink of glass. He shuffles into a more upright position, eyebrow raised in a silent query - she's holding the bottle behind her back and he can't see what it is.
"Close your eyes, and no peeking," she admonishes as she passes him a glass. He complies and his reward is the slosh of liquid being poured into the glass. He takes a careful sniff and is assailed by the scents of summer; honey, flowers, sunshine and a faint herbal undertone.
"Mead?" His voice betrays his pleasure but he should have guessed in advance; mead is a very appropriate drink to celebrate summer and Siannon has always been fond of it.
"Meddeglyn," she replies. It's a fine distinction, but one he appreciates. His eyes remain closed as he takes his first sip and the flavours explode across his tongue evoking memories of other times and places and most importantly, people.
"This is not just any meddeglyn," Methos says as he opens his eyes. "It's Darius' recipe."
"I knew you'd recognise it." There's a barely audible catch in her voice but Methos understands; he misses Darius too. He gives Siannon a brief hug as she settles beside him and raises his glass.
"To Darius," he says and Siannon echoes him softly. It's an appropriate time, place and way to remember the man who turned his back on darkness and spent the rest of his life trying his best to bring light into the life of both mortal and immortal in so many ways and it feels good to share memories of him with another, despite the fact that Methos more than once called Darius a misguided fool while he was alive.
They're laughing by the time the last drop has been poured from the bottle, the sunset painting the sky in fiery shades of red and gold that herald the end of the day. Methos smiles, it's been a good day and just what he needed. There aren't many people who know him as Methos and there are fewer still who will allow him to be *just* Methos with no expectations of anything else. Siannon is one, and the others… he can't stop the grin that creeps unbidden across his face.
"Cardiff tomorrow, then?" Siannon asks with a knowing smirk.
"I think so."
"I'm not surprised you needed to recharge your batteries," she says, laughing. "After all, an old man like you must find it difficult to keep up with…" Methos silences her by throwing one of his discarded socks at her head, but he's laughing too. Life is good, and he refuses to borrow trouble by admitting it won't continue that way. Maybe he needs to remember his past for his own health, but right now he's living ferociously for the moment; the future can wait.
*
A/N 2: If anyone is wondering what the hell this is doing being set in a graveyard, it's because my OFC Siannon O'Niall lives in a house that is built around an old country chapel, complete with surrounding graveyard. The neighbours are quiet at least.
This entry was originally posted at http://a-lanart.dreamwidth.org/218967.html.