fic: Tower of Strength [PG-15] p 10/14
Title: Tower of Strength
Author: A Lanart
Characters: Richie Ryan & Siannon O'Niall (OFC)
Rating: PG-15 (UK). (Probably an R in the US)
Warnings: Swearing, Angst and possibly disturbing subject matter.
Spoilers: Highlander seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: Davis/Panzer productions own the Highlander universe
Concepts and characters used without permission.
Original characters and ideas are Mine, so is the story.
No profit is being made off this by anyone, especially me!
Title courtesy of the Mission, from the song of the same name,
Summary: Richie's back in Seacouver after the events in 'Testimony', where he meets an *old* friend.
Part 10
Slowly things returned to almost normal. Siannon moved into the loft, albeit temporarily; Richie re-opened the dojo and Joe Watched, providing advice whether he was asked or not. Siannon became a near permanent fixture at Joe's; sometimes helping behind the bar, or with the books, or waitressing, but usually there just to listen, and drink, and occasionally play. She turned up at the oddest of hours, always finding in Joe a sympathetic ear and someone with who she could share her love of music and the release it provided. Laurie's ashes stayed unscattered, resting silently in their urn of Irish granite.
Richie watched as Siannon weaved her way through the tables. There was a full house at Joe's, so she was helping out. He regarded the solemn, graceful figure with some disquiet. Joe paused in his task of readying drinks for his customers, to pin his young friend with a thoughtful look.
"You're still worried, aren't you?"
"Am I really being *that* obvious?"
"Only to me. Don't forget, observation is my business. Can I ask why?"
"Why what?"
"You're still worried."
"You can ask, but I'm not sure I know. And before you say anything, no I haven't fallen in love with her." Joe grinned, pushing the finished drinks order further down the bar and starting on the next one.
"Seems like we both know each other a little too well, Richie."
"Yeah, maybe." Richie smiled back at Joe, a brief lighting of his eyes and face. "I'm not complaining, you're a useful kind of guy to have around."
"That's something I'm glad to see." Joe said, handing Richie another bottle.
"What?"
"You, smiling. You don't do it enough these days. You weren't meant to be serious for so long, Richie Ryan."
"Thanks, I think."
"Anytime. So, got any ideas?"
"About Siannon? A couple. I just hate to see her like this. The last time I saw her laugh was that night in here, she's just going through the motions, Joe. Existing, not living. You know what scares the shit out of me?" Joe stopped what he was doing and turned all his attention to Richie, this was obviously important to the young man.
"No. What?" Richie ran his finger down the side of the bottle, tracing a pattern in the condensation. He would not look at Joe.
"The next time she meets one of us, in a fight, I'm not sure she'll care enough to survive. Her heart's smashed into pieces, and at the moment she doesn't seem to have the will to start picking them up. I'm starting to get an idea of how Mac felt when I met Kristov, I've just got to stand back and let her fight her own fights. To be honest, Joe, I'm not sure I can do that."
"You want to know what I think?"
"You'll tell me anyway."
"You're lying to yourself."
"I am?"
"Uh-huh. You're in love all right, I just don't think you've realised it yet."
"Joe! She's my friend."
"A lot of good relationships have started from less. I know it's far too soon, but you might end up being just the kick into reality she needs."
"I don't think so."
"Hey, I didn't mean right now. Leave it a year, two and you never know. For now, you can't do any more than you are already. As for the other thing, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. I'm surprised things have been so quiet, this place is usually like Immortal Central. They probably know MacLeod's not at home."
Joe's words seemed eerily prophetic two days later, when Richie heard the first rumours of someone new in town. He did a bit of judicious hunting, but turned up nothing. His anxiety increased daily.
One particular evening, Richie was closing up the dojo when Siannon came down to help. He was pleased to see her, for although she was living in the loft he barely knew she was there as she had withdrawn so much from him. In the warm silence they stacked mats and put away weights, saying little to each other but enjoying the company. She sat down on one of the benches against the wall, leaning back against it as she watched Richie move towards her through half closed eyes. He sat down next to her, stretching out his legs.
"I haven't seen much of you recently." He said quietly; not accusing, just stating it as the fact it was.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Not half as sorry as me. You holding up okay?"
"Better than I thought I would."
"I'm glad about that." He gathered his legs under himself and stood up. "I'm going to work out for a bit, do you want to join me?" A slow, lazy smile spread across Siannon's face. Richie was surprised at how good it felt to see her smile again, it had been far too long.
"Don't mind if I do. Give me a sec to get changed and I'll be right down." She dashed off with an enthusiasm she had not displayed since Laurie died. He watched her disappear into the lift, a thoughtful expression on his face.
He was well into his warm up stretches when he heard the lift door. He didn't stop, but turned to face her. She was wearing a green cropped T-shirt, leggings and bare feet, an ensemble which looked somewhat incongruous with the beautiful but deadly sword she carried. Richie gave a low whistle of appreciation, both for her and the sword. She turned so it caught the light, this way and that.
"Beautiful, isn't it. It's also totally unique; the only one of it's kind. It was made specially for me by one of us, a man simply known as 'The Smith'. He'd studied metallurgy and swordmaking with the best, over thousands of years. This was almost the last sword he made for an immortal." Siannon seemed to be speaking from a great distance, as if her mind was elsewhere. Richie stilled, watching and listening with rapt attention.
"What happened?"
"His forge was on Holy Ground and he rarely left it. So to get him, it was destroyed with him in it. Then he was taken away before he had a chance to revive and killed. That was a sad day for all of us, as bad as Darius' death. They were friends, you know, had been for years."
"Oh. What happened to whoever took this guy's head?"
"I killed him. I don't like head hunting, but this was necessary. A crime like that can't go unpunished." She shivered slightly, meeting Richie's eyes at last.
"It sounds like you went to the same school of justice as Mac."
"The Clan system in Ireland was very similar to what he grew up with; after all, the Scots originally came from Ireland, so it's not very surprising, I suppose." She shrugged, dismissively. "Let me warm up, and we'll start, hey?"
"Okay."
After Siannon had disarmed him for the second time, Richie called for quits. He grabbed his towel to wipe the sweat from his face, grinning at her all the while.
"Shit, you're fast." He was pleased when he managed to get a smile in return.
"Have to be when nearly everybody you meet outweighs and outreaches you. You're not bad, especially considering you're still fairly new at this. I've got one piece of advice though."
"Which is?"
"Don't fight 'down' just because you're facing a woman. You've got the ability and the instincts, so use them. You never know how experienced your opponent is going to be and if you pull your strokes, you might not find out until your head has left your shoulders. Sure, you can stay on the defensive if you must, but never underestimate anyone you're facing; you could be in for a nasty surprise if you do."
"I've only ever fought one woman. I couldn't kill her."
"Who was it?"
"Annie Devlin. It was ages ago."
"Oh yes, Annie, my wonderful compatriot. She's a bit of a strange one, far too politically motivated for my liking. By the way, just how long ago is *ages*?"
"Nearly two years ago."
"Nearly two years...just after Tessa died?"
"Mm-hmm."
"You were newly immortal?"
"Yeah."
"Shit. No wonder you couldn't kill her." She shook her head in disbelief. "Not the best time to be facing someone like Annie. Look, why don't you come on up, use the shower, have a coffee, that sort of thing?"
"Sounds good. I'll just get my stuff." By the time Richie wandered into the loft, Siannon had showered and changed into jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. She was busying herself in the kitchen.
"Bathroom's all yours, Richie. Want to stay for tea?" She asked.
"Since when have I refused free food?" was the laughing rejoinder as he made his way to the bathroom.