#GIVING ME VAGUE BITS TO GO WITH GEORGE I APPRECIATE IT. I’m so tired oh my god.
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Worth the Thought
The dull, thudding dread in your stomach had started around half past three when your phone started buzzing - the monthly reminder from the cycle tracker app that your period should be starting any minute.
It hadn’t. Yet.
You swiped ignore on the notification and flipped the phone over on your desk, hoping that if you just concentrated on the spreadsheet in front of you, you’d be able to ignore the creeping anxiety about the fact that Auntie Flo usually arrived on time like clockwork. Maybe it was just a day or two late.
But you couldn’t shake off the thought that maybe it wasn’t. And the computer screen was getting blurrier and blurrier by the minute and the sound of the clock on the wall opposite your chair was ticking louder and louder. Your fingers felt like lead everytime you added a new sum to the column you were currently adding up.
After about thirty minutes of a half hearted attempt of continuing the work day, you clicked the log out button on the desktop screen.
“Hey, Claire?”, you asked, peering over the divider at your coworker.
“Yeah??” She didn’t look up from her computer screen.
“I’m not feeling too well all the sudden. Gonna head out a bit early, I think.”
She stopped typing and met your gaze - “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Go ahead, doll. We’ll sort out these figures tomorrow.”
You nodded your head in appreciation and gathered your things, cramming them into the oversized striped tote that George had given you a few Christmases ago. He reasoned that you loved stripes so it made sense that you should have something striped to carry around everyday - he seemed to always be insufferably cute in his logic of gift giving.
The phone was the last thing you picked up - a new message notification from George seemed to be screaming out from the bright screen.
So glad that you’ll be there tonight.
“Shit.” You muttered it under your breath and hitched the bag on your shoulder.
Geebs, I’m not feeling too well. Not sure if I can make it.
It had taken him a while to gather the courage to ask you to accompany him to what he called “work functions”. You weren’t promoting anything, he had explained, so you didn’t need to be subjected to the endless barrage of flashbulbs and oddly boring questions from journalists. He would understand if you wanted to stay at home and keep everything private. But you didn’t mind. George always came to every office party or dinner, even the annual Christmas do that Claire tended to get too drunk at and cry to him about her apparently never ending singledom. Besides, you loved the way George swelled up with pride when he spoke about his experience working on a film - how much he loved creating something new.
What’s up?
Nothing serious. Just don’t feel too hot. Heading home early rn.
I can ring Donna and see if I can get out of this thing.
Don’t. Isn’t it a BAFTA party?
Yea. That doesn’t matter tho. Been to enough at this point, tbh.
Don’t be silly. I’m fine. Prob ate something bit odd at lunch.
You sure, Piglet?
You couldn’t help but give a small smile at his nickname for you. George claimed that when you got anxious, your voice got higher and you couldn’t stop saying “oh no” just like the Winnie the Pooh character. Also, there was his claim that when you laughed hard enough, you’d make soft snorting sounds instead of laughs. It was one of the cutest things about you, according to George. At least it was better than the nickname he ended up with. Allegedly - according to what you could remember - it started after one night where you had drank too much white wine for your own good and couldn’t find George inside the bar. You’d found him outside in the smoking section, chatting with a burly lighting grip in a Man City beanie. Desperate to leave, you pawed at George’s shoulder, whining - “Geeeebs, I wanna gooo home now. Geeebs, lessssgo. Hooome. Goo.” Man City had smirked and nodded at your swaying frame. “Geebs, looks like your girl needs a bit of help.”
Yeah. I’m honestly just tired and wanna rest. Go! Have fun! Tell me all about it when you’re back!
Ok. Ok. Ok. Party is at Groucho’s. Want me to pick up some ramen from that place in Soho that you like?
Nah. Thank you tho :)
What about Boots? Need me to grab anything?
Gonna stop omw home.
Brilliant. Rest up, Pigs. Xx
Love you too, Geebs. X
By the time you’d heard the front door lock click open, the dread from earlier had turned into a tight panic that had threaded itself tightly into your chest. If you just focussed on tidying up the flat, you wouldn’t have to think about what all the tests said. There weren’t thin pink lines in the suds of the washing up.
“Hi, darling.” His voice sounded soft - as if he spoke any louder, he might cause your mysterious ailment to get worse.
You didn’t turn around from the kitchen sink. Instead you squirted more Fairy liquid on an already saturated sponge.
“Hi. How was the party?”
“Just alright. Usual crowd. Usual questions. Managed to see Sam for a bit. He says hello, by the way. I convinced Donna to let me ditch early though.”
You squinted, the mug in your hand slippery from the soap. “Really? You should have stayed!”
George shrugged his coat off his shoulders, laying it over the back of the couch. He walked towards the kitchen, holding a brown paper bag.
“I couldn’t possibly leave my poorly little piglet home alone any longer.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him place the bag on the island counter. Tonkostu. That ramen place in Soho you liked. He was making it even harder to tell him what you needed to say.
“Besides, we’ve both been busy and you know, I just wanted to be home instead of trying to come up with some clever line for who knows what”, he continued, unbuttoning his suit jacket.
There wasn’t any way the mug in your hand could get cleaner. You sighed, placing it on the drying rack and turned to face George. He smiled as he met your eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m still just fine. Knackered.”
“You’re being awfully vague about what’s going on. Did something happen at work?”
Biting the inside of your lip, you turned back to the sink. It would be easier to have this conversation without having to actually look at him. George in a suit was a particular weakness of yours and he’d been loaned a new double breasted one for the BAFTA party. Your mind was already all over the place.
“Well…”
“Well….” He replied as he pulled a water glass out of the cupboard next to you, nudging you a bit to let him get to the faucet to fill it up. You relented and turned off the water after he was done.
“Maybe you should look over there.” You said, gesturing towards the brown bag.
“You had a takeaway issue?” He laughed, leaning against the counter edge as he took a sip.
You sighed and adjusted the messy bun on top of your head. “No. The other thing on the counter.”
As he walked the short distance to see what was there, it felt like your heart was going to drop out of your chest. You hadn’t planned to have this conversation. At least not tonight.
“Wait. Are these what I think they are?” His brow had furrowed as he picked up the group of white plastic sticks.
You didn’t answer.
“Pigs? Are...you...you know?” His voice seemed to be getting a little higher. A little faster. He set the test back down, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up.
“Am I what?”
George turned to you, his blue eyes wide with surprise - “Pregnant!”
The silence in the two seconds that it took you to answer was suffocating, weighing itself down on your shoulders.
“Apparently so”, you flatly responded.
“Fucking hell.”
“You can say that again.”
The joy in his voice made the nervousness you felt sting more - “You’re gonna have a baby. We’re gonna have a baby!”
He took two wide steps towards you, his arms reaching for your waist. You sidestepped away from his embrace. You’d wanted to hear George say this, watch him slowly realise what was happening as he read the test for so long. Longer than you could remember. But for some reason, this felt all wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen just yet. There were so many things you wanted to do before this. Career advancements to be made, trips to be had, awards to be won, plans to dream up.
“Hold on. Let’s talk about this for a minute.”
“What’s there to talk about this? This is..I think...probably...no.. the best thing that’s ever happened.”
Exasperated, you grabbed the dish towel and twisted it around your hand. “I think we should really think about this. I mean. It’s a big step and we only just started thinking about getting married.”
“We’ve been together for five years. We’re still going to get married but it looks like we might be changing up the timeline of life events, though. I thought you were on the pill...”
“I was. I am. But I forgot my birth control that weekend last month
He had leaned back over to the island and picked up one of the pregnancy tests, examining it more closely.
“Mmm..”
It would be easier if you didn’t say it straight to his face. You turned back towards the window over the sink, the red lights of the London skyline blinking silently back at you.
“Maybe I don’t want to have this baby yet.”
There was a hitch in his voice - you didn’t need to see him to know that his face had fallen.
“What do you mean you don’t want to have this baby?”
“I’m not ready. At least I feel like I’m not ready.” The words felt like bombs dropping.
“You’re not bloody ready? Are you mental? You’re going to be the most amazing mother to walk this earth.” He ran his hand through his hair, his face tightened in confusion.
“I mean. I dunno. I just hadn’t really felt like I was at the point where I could take care of another life.”
George moved closer to you, ignoring the sound of you turning the sink faucet. “You’re so ready.”
“Oh”, you responded dryly, “Did you have a conversation with my mind to get that information?”
“Ok. No. You’re right. I didn’t. But I know you. And I love you. And I know that you’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be grand.”
Picking up a sauce pot, you resumed the washing up. You were stuck in now, but maybe the Fairy liquid could smooth over how awful this talk was going to get, you thought.
“You’re not getting it. I don’t want this. Not yet.”
George gingerly laid his hand on your shoulder. “Wait. What are you trying to say?” His voice faltered.
“I don’t know! I don’t know what I want!”
“I thought you wanted children...”
“I do! Just..not right now.” Your throat felt like it was clamping up as your voice rose. “We haven’t planned for this shit at all.”
“Well. Yeah. We'll sort it out though.”
You slammed the saucepot down in the sink. “No. You’re not listening. How are we going to fit a literal child into our lives? We live in a tiny fucking one bedroom flat. You’re about to leave to go to Australia for 3 months. Do we even have enough money to have a kid?”
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked away. “I’ll drop the damn film. You know we’re financially sound.”
You wished that you’d turned on more lights when you got home. The half lit kitchen wasn’t helping the dark mood at all.
“Ok. Well maybe this isn’t a we situation then. There are things besides those. I have a promotion at work I want. A career. I want to move up the ladder. I know as an actor you can get that. It’s like getting bloody famous or something.”
He rolled his eyes. “Alright. Let’s not get petty.”
The sink groaned a sharp metallic click as the water suddenly stopped.
“This fucking stupid sink! George. You were supposed to fix it!”
He nudged you out of the way and quickly shut the faucet off.
“Pigs. Let’s not get into the sink right now.”
You threw the towel onto the counter, staring at the strawberry print. “Ok fine then. Maybe I don’t want to be like your mum and give everything up to raise this child.”
George snapped his head towards you, his voice low and harsh. He only spoke like that when he was truly angry.
“Don’t you dare bring my mother into this.”
“Why? You know she gave up her costumes for you and your sister. And now she’s a fucking nursery teacher.”
“She had a choice. You have a choice.” The sound of his hand hitting the counter reverberated around the two of you.
“Well. Maybe my choice is that I’m not going to keep it.”
“That’s not your choice!”
Shocked and open mouthed, you grabbed one of the tests. The plastic felt like it could cut into your palm, you were gripping it so tightly.
“Are you.. Are you fucking seriously fucking telling me I don’t have a choice?” You waved your closed fist in front of him, his eyes following the white stick. “I cannot believe...you arsehole.”
He held his hands up in surrender. You didn’t stop.
“You of all fucking people would tell me that what I want to do with my goddamn body isn’t my choice.”
“That’s not what I meant….”
“What did you mean then? That you had the final say in what happened to your child in my body, huh?”
“No.” He grabbed your wrist to stop you from waving the test at him.
“Let go of my fucking arm.”
“You need to calm down. That’s not what I meant”
You jerked your arm free and threw the stick at his feet. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down. I’m going upstairs. I swear to god, if you follow me.”
Even forty five minutes in the bath felt like it wasn’t enough to make you feel better. You loved the clawfoot bathtub - it might have been your favourite thing in the cramped apartment you and George shared.
The doorknob turned and you slid back under the water, scrunching your eyes and letting your nose stay slightly above waterline; hoping that if you stayed like that long enough, he would eventually just leave.
“Hey” His voice sounded sad even muffled by the water.
You didn’t respond.
“I know that you can hear me. And I want to tell you that I’m sorry...I...shouldn’t have said that.”
You opened one eye to his fuzzy form slouched above you.
“You’re absolutely right. It is your choice about what you want to do. And I need to support you. But I need you to talk to me about it first. It’s still going to have an impact on me. On us. But that doesn’t mean it will change anything about us. Or how I feel about you. How much I love you.”
The water sloshed quietly as you slid yourself up the back of the tub. He didn’t notice that you were listening fully.
“And you are going to be, whenever you want to be, the most amazing mother. You’re so kind and you love so deeply. You’re so fiercely protective that nothing will harm our child. I can’t wait to see that. I can’t wait..”
“Geebs, it’s not an interview”, you said, laughing quietly at the way he tended to ramble when saying something he felt was important.
He looked down at you, surprised.
“There you are!”
You smoothed your hair back, relishing the cool air of the tiled bathroom.
“Thank you”, you responded quietly.
“I needed to say it. What I said was wrong”, he sighed, perching himself on the edge of the tub, his back to you.
“I’m so scared.”
“I’m scared too.”
You looked up at him, slightly astounded that your take on everything the hard way George had responded. He gently drew a line back and forth on the water’s surface - “In fact. I’m bloody terrified.”
“Why?”
He concentrated on the line, avoiding your gaze. “Well, what if something goes wrong? What if...you know..we...loseit. Or it hates us? Or it doesn’t learn anything we try and teach it? What if I’m not a good father? Or god forbid, it’s an Arsenal supporter?”
You pulled yourself up further, bringing your knees to your chest and laughed. “Geebs, what football team our child supports is the least of your worries.”
“Are you ready?” Bathwater rippled outwards from his arm as he placed his large hand softly against your stomach.
You paused and took his other hand in yours, water streaming into the crisp blue of his shirt - “Yes. I think I am. It took this bath and a good long cry. But...I dunno. Feels right. I’m still worried though.”
“You’re going to be an amazing mum.”
“I know,” you said, smiling cheekily. “You’ll be a better father though.”
“Oh..c’mon now.”
You blushed and pulled your mouth tightly into a smile - “You know, I actually decided I wanted to have your children after our sixth date.”
He pursed his mouth, trying to remember the exact memory.
“Wait...are you talking about the time we went to that karaoke bar in Shoreditch with Anna and that lot and I sang that Heart song?”
“Maybe..”
“Are you telling me that my show stopping rendition of Barracuda made you figure that out? Wow...it must have been really sexy then..”
“Oh fuck off!” You said, splashing his thigh.
“Hey! Watch the trousers! This is Dior! I’ve got to give it back next week!” He feigned horror at the mark growing on his leg.
The two of you sat silently for a few minutes, content with the immense agreement you had made. George lazily rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand as you leaned back against the embrace of the curved tub.
“Piglet?”
“Yes,” you murmured.
“When did it happen? It couldn’t have been that long ago...do you think it was after Daisy’s housewarming when we were too pissed to make it to the bedroom and we fucked on the kitchen floor?”
You didn’t respond, chuckling quietly instead.
“Or...was it the other night. You know. When the new Attenborough series about Antarctica got a bit tedious..”
“Geebs, it doesn’t really matter. It’s happening regardless.”
“Yes. Quite right. It probably would be pretty disturbing to learn that you were conceived to the soundtrack of a squawking flock of Emperor penguins. Anyways..Regardless...We should probably think about moving soon. I’ve actually been thinking about looking in Barnes for a while now. I want to raise our children there. In a proper house. It’s a bit more expensive than when I was a kid..but I think we can manage...I’ll speak with mum...see what she can find out..
“Geebs?”
“Yes, Pigs?”
“We’ve just decided to have the bloody kid. I’m too tired to figure out where we’re going to put it right now.”
“Oh. Of course.” He jumped up, reaching for a towel off the rack. “Let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted too.”
You gently lifted yourself out of the water and stepped into the open towel, wrapping it around yourself - “Go get ready. I’ll be there in a bit.”
He came back five minutes later, changed out of his suit and into his favourite pair of pyjama bottoms; printed with sock monkeys and so threadbare, they needed to go in the bin but you couldn’t break the news to him. You dragged a comb through your wet hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. His bare chest was cool against your bath warmed skin.
“Darling?”, he murmured, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“I’d almost forgotten how great your tits look when you’re in the bath.” His eyes met yours in the mirror.
You rolled your eyes. “Well get ready then. They’re only going to get bigger these next nine months.”
His face lit up - “This pregnancy is going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You quickly turned and tapped him on the stomach with your brush, laughing.
“You pervert.”
“Ow! That hurt!”
And you wish that you’d known then, in all that doubt and worry, that in nine months and a few weeks time, you’d open your eyes in a sterile room full of blinding light to see George holding a squirming bundle of pale pink in his long arms. So small in his hands. The tears wouldn’t stop and you won’t be sure if it’s the pain of the feeling of your hips broken, body split in two or the waves of joy that kept washing over you again and again, the elation almost drowning your heart. He would lean down, a small cry emerging from the bundle. “Look, Pigs. Look at her. I’m sorry they gave her to me first..hold her.” And the words wouldn’t be able to form as you moved your mouth into a yes. The bundle on your chest while George, his eyes tearful as he delicately placed his thumb on your daughter’s rosebud lips. She would blink, her eyes the same sea blue as her father’s as he brushed her cheek. And he would look to you, a vastness of love you’d never seen. “She’s so perfect...you’re perfect. You’re so bloody perfect.” His kisses against your crying eyes. On your lips. And all the blood, the doctor’s commands, the panic, the nausea, the doubt. All that doubt and worry would be worth it all.
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Dreaming Out Loud
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Chapter 104: That's Where You'll Find Me
Ruth busied herself by making tea for everyone, as they got situated in the cabin. The tension was extremely thick and Snow knew it was running high for her husband. As they finally gathered around and sat down, thanks to her mother poofing them a few more chairs, she opted to sit with David when he pulled her down into his lap. She curled against him and rested her head against his shoulder, as his eyes were fixated between his brother and the imp that was joining them. Rumpelstiltskin was watching the whole scene with something akin to amusement? Which she knew was probably irritating her husband. He did not find any of this amusing at all and probably didn't appreciate the imp's nonchalant attitude. Still, she was curious about what he had said earlier about them defeating Arawn. If there was even a chance at freeing the people from his evil reign, she wanted to know how to do so.
Ruth was about to bring the tea over when Rumple waved his hand. A brunette woman in a blue and white dress appeared, looking confused.
"Rumpelstiltskin…" she uttered, with questioning eyes.
"Help serve the tea," he ordered and she did so, as she looked around.
"Who is this?" Snow asked curiously, as she instantly noticed a tension between the imp and the woman.
"Just my maid. Pay her no mind," he responded.
"I will pay her mind. You must have a name," Snow retorted. The brunette beauty looked at the raven haired beauty in surprise. It wasn't often that she heard someone speak to the Dark One with such command...and not only live, but remain upright.
"Careful dearie...you have quite a tongue," he warned.
"She does...like her mother. You know, the Queen of the Underworld," Hades reminded, as he gave the Dark One a steely gaze.
"The Underworld?" Belle questioned.
"Yes dearie...you're in the presence of none other than Hades and Persephone, as well as their sharp tongued daughter, Snow White," he admonished. Snow smiled.
"It's nice to meet you," Snow said, giving her a smile. Belle returned it.
"Likewise...I'm Belle," she responded.
"And you're his maid?" David asked skeptically. She smiled.
"I am," she confirmed.
"Willingly?" he questioned and Snow smacked his chest.
"What?" he asked questioningly.
"You could be more tactful," she replied.
"Sorry...this is my loving and tactless husband, David," Snow said affectionately. Belle smiled.
"I guessed. You're in his lap," the brunette teased, which made Snow blush a bit.
"And to answer your question...my employment is a business arrangement," she answered.
"Well, now that all these pleasantries are out of they, we can get to the important things. Like defeating King Arawn," Rumple interjected.
"If you want him defeated so badly, all powerful Dark One, then why don't you just do it?" Hades challenged.
"For the same reason you haven't," Rumple retorted.
"There are risks and he has ways of nullifying magic, as we have seen with Midas," he added.
"But Frollo is dead," Eli reminded.
"But what he left behind for his King is not. Though if done right, the Kingdoms can be taken back from him," Rumple stated.
"And how do we do that?" James questioned.
"By fighting back. It's time that these two join the battle, along with the rest of you. No more stowing your daughter away in the Underworld or this war will never end," he responded. Four voices uttered the same words simultaneously.
"No way in hell…"
"Maybe he's right," Snow said, as all three of her parents and her husband gave her incredulous looks.
"Snow...you can't be serious…" David responded.
"No, I am...this war started with me and it should end with me," she said bravely.
"Honey...this war is not your fault. Deimos framed you for murder as an excuse to start this war," Persephone reminded.
"And I'm almost positive that he did it with Zeus' backing," Hades added.
"I know that...but it doesn't change the fact that I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of him tormenting our people, Daddy," she said, looking at Eli. The former King sighed.
"I was a weak King, snowdrop. I'm not sure they did much better under me," he said in a defeated tone. Snow got up and went to her father.
"You were not a weak King, daddy. Ravenna was responsible for a lot the Kingdom's financial woes and you had to appease her to avoid war. No one can fault you for not wanting our people to suffer, because of her wrath," Snow replied.
"Maybe not...but our people deserve a real ruler. A true Queen," Eli said, as he put his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes widened.
"Not me…" she protested.
"Yes you…" he encouraged.
"It is my Throne, but you are my heir, I don't care what that stuffy court says. It's high time they're all replaced anyway. I could never do it, because I tried to appease too many, but none of that matters now. It's time for someone that can truly lead our people. And that's you, sweet pea," he said.
"He's right...you're the Queen they deserve," David agreed and she looked into her husband's love filled eyes.
"But I'm not fit to be Queen," Snow protested.
"Yes...you are, sweetheart," Persephone admonished.
"She may be...but it's a stretch to think that farm boy here can be a Prince," James interjected smugly, which enticed David and that was probably his point. David was on his feet and in his brother's face in a flash.
"I'd rather be a lowly farm boy than a pompous ass of a prince like you," he growled.
"You really think you can fight me?" James questioned.
"I don't think...I know I can," David retorted, as they prepared to come to blows. But Ruth and Sera intervened between their boys.
"Absolutely not!" Sera protested.
"You are brothers," Ruth added.
"No...we're not," James spat.
"You are," Sera insisted, as she put her hands on James' face and he almost pulled away, but then he didn't, as he relished his mother's touch. She was his earliest memory.
"I never wanted to leave you…" she reminded.
"I get it...he sent you off to be executed. You got lucky and escaped. But I didn't," he replied coldly.
"But you have now…" Sera reminded.
"She's right. When Arawn is defeated, we will not be putting George back on your Kingdom's Throne. It should be you, since your brother will rule with Snow," Rumple interjected.
"Me? But I'm not…" David started to say.
"Yes you are. You are technically a Prince now," Snow reminded, as she put her arms around him.
"And I don't do anything without the man I love by my side. It's always been our motto, after all," she added.
"We'll do this like we do everything. Together," she finished, as she nuzzled her nose against his and he melted into her, as he held her close.
"What makes you think we can take Arwan down where others have failed?" David questioned.
"That's actually a good question," James agreed.
"A very good question," Lancelot also agreed. Rumple smirked.
"Because you'll have my backing and theirs," he declared, as he looked to Hades and Persephone.
"You can rally the rest of the Gods to our cause," he stated. Hades scoffed.
"You want us to defy Zeus and get the rest of my siblings to do so as well?" the God of the Underworld questioned.
"We know that Deimos murdered Ravenna to start this whole thing and frame young Snow. We also know that Zeus is behind it. You must prove it to the others," Rumple stated.
"Which is impossible," Hades refuted.
"Maybe not," Persephone interjected and he looked at her.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"There is one God that is privy to everything Zeus does," she reminded, but he scoffed.
"Hephaestus will never betray Zeus…" he argued.
"He has to already be troubled by all of this and he is fond of Snow. He may if I talk to him. It's worth a try," she said. He sighed.
"Perhaps, but this won't be just one battle. We'll have to start small in our liberation," Eli chimed in.
"Yes, which is why you start by liberating villages. Drive the soldiers out of the common people's lives and they will amass an army for you," Rumple advised.
"That's actually a really good idea, but what's in this for you?" David questioned.
"Another really good question. You don't do anything for nothing, Dark One," Hades agreed.
"That's my business," Rumple argued.
"No...you tell me what you want from our daughter and son-in-law now. No more games," Hades snapped, as the two men stared each other down.
"Fine...I need to bottle true love and they are the only viable source for such an undertaking," he admitted.
"For what purpose?" Persephone demanded to know.
"You know why," Rumple snapped and she looked at her husband.
"Deal," she agreed.
"What?!" Hades exclaimed.
"My love...that is an incredible magic we'd be handing over and to him of all people," he reminded.
"I know, but I think I know why he wants it and I get it. Trust me," she stated vaguely.
"Okay...I'm a little lost. Owe!" David cried, as the imp plucked a hair from his head.
"What the hell?" he demanded to know, but Rumple did not answer, as he dropped it into a small vial. Next he took one from Snow and added it to the vial as well. Everyone in the room, including Snow and David, watched in amazement, as the hairs in the bottle glowed. They became intertwined and glowed bright pink, causing Rumple to giggle in delight.
"What is that?" Snow asked.
"True love. The most powerful magic of all...bottled," Rumple answered.
"And what are you going to do with it?" David asked.
"Never mind that," Rumple snapped, as he put the bottle in his robes.
"It's time to fight back against Arawn. Tomorrow, you'll liberate your first village and begin the path to winning this war," he continued. David sighed and slipped his hand into Snow's.
"Then we should take this time to see where you stand on your swordsman skills, farm boy," James challenged.
"Oh gee...I don't know if I can compete with a professionally, pompously trained prince. But I'd sure like to try," David replied sarcastically.
"This won't end well," Robert muttered.
"Baby...aren't you going to mention that you've been trained by my father and step-father?" Snow whispered to him. David smirked.
"Nah...it'll be more fun this way," he responded. Snow watched him go with a bit of exasperation, but then decided to watch them spar, all while trying to get to know the seemingly shy brunette more.
"So...you maintain the castle for the Dark One?" Snow asked curiously.
"Oh...I don't know about that. I'm mostly just a maid. I dust, do laundry, make tea and meals. He doesn't have to eat, but he likes to sometimes," she replied, as Belle looked at her curiously. Snow smiled.
"You can ask me anything. I'm a person, like you," she assured.
"Have you really been to the Underworld?" she asked. Snow nodded.
"I was born there and have spent a lot of time there," she confirmed.
"Isn't that frightening?" Belle asked.
"I don't really see the horrible parts. Papa Hades makes sure the nastiest souls are contained and aren't allowed in certain parts of his chambers. But I spend a lot of time on the surface above his Throne room with souls that have unfinished business. It's kind of like a strange little village all its own," Snow explained.
"That's fascinating...you know, there aren't many books about the Underworld," Belle mentioned.
"Papa Hades says it has to be that way. He says that most shouldn't know what awaits them in the afterlife until they get there," Snow replied.
"You like to read?" she inquired. Belle lit up at that.
"I love to read...I do so any chance I get. Rumpelstiltskin actually has quite a large library," she replied.
"And he lets you read?" Snow asked.
"He actually gave me the library," Belle admitted inadvertently and her eyes widened, as she realized what she had just said.
"Wow...he gave you a library," Snow said in an impressed tone.
"Well...as long as I keep it dusted," Belle stammered.
"Right," Snow said, with a bit of amusement. Belle swallowed and turned her attention to the exhibition duel between twin brothers that was happening in the meadow.
"I've never seen anything quite like that potion. That must be an incredible love you have," she mentioned. Snow smiled.
"He's everything to me and it is wonderful. True love isn't easy...but it's so worth it," the Princess agreed, as she gazed at her husband dreamily.
"Do you have someone?" Snow asked curiously.
"Oh...um no," Belle stammered.
"You don't sound so sure," Snow mentioned.
"Is love ever a sure thing?" Belle countered and Snow smiled.
"I suppose not, but I do know that your heart doesn't see distinguish by class, gender, or even magic and non magic persons," she said knowingly, as Belle looked at her. Snow smirked.
"Oh no...I'm not...I mean we're not…" Belle stammered.
"Mmm...sure you're not. You know, there's a lot of people that think Charming and I shouldn't be together, simply because he wasn't raised a Prince. But our love is none of their business and I know that there is no one better for me or no one I could ever want more," Snow told her.
"It's easy for you though. David seems like he would be pretty easy to love," Belle countered. Snow nodded.
"Okay...you've got me there. He is very easy to love. The love comes easy for us, which helps when outside forces try to keep us apart," she said.
"But even if the love part isn't as easy for you, if it's real...you should still fight for it," she added.
"He's such a beast sometimes…" Belle confessed.
"But then I see glimpses of something else...there's something there that's very human and very vulnerable," she added.
"Then don't give up," Snow advised.
"Love is worth whatever fight you have to endure," she assured, as they shared a soft smile.
~*~
Ruth sighed, as they watched their boys with arms around each other. Robert lingered nearby and it was all still very much sinking in for him. She knew that he would have to tell David the real reason he left when he was six and that was to try and save James. She hoped David took it well enough, but she feared he may feel like he wasn't enough for Robert. She herself had once felt that way when she found out what he had tried to do. She knew why he had done it and knew he never intended for David to feel that way though. She only hoped their son could understand that as well.
Having James back in their lives was both joyous and surreal. She knew they had a long road ahead of them with him. They had a lot of issues to overcome with him. James resented them and David for getting to grow up with them. And David was angry at them for not telling him, though they worried less about that. Snow would urge him to forgive and they knew it was likely he would easily do so. James would be harder. He may have been raised a Prince, but he considered David to be the spoiled one. The jealousy and resentment was evident and they only hoped both their boys could work through it.
"It'll be okay...they're our boys. There is still good in James, despite George's attempts to turn him into a monster. He didn't succeed," Sera assured her wife. Ruth nodded.
"If he gets his hands on either of them again...I can't think about what he might try to do to them," Ruth feared.
"The Gods will protect them...both of them," Sera said, praying she was right about that.
~*~
Twin brothers circled each other, as they prepared to engage in a duel. Lancelot, Eli, and Hades stood by with interest, while even Rumple seemed entertained by the prospect of this particular duel. It started out simply enough, with David simply parrying his brother's fierce strikes.
"I'll admit...I'm impressed you're still on your feet," James goaded, as he continued to duel his twin.
"I love how you keep assuming that I can barely hold a sword," David retorted.
"Okay...I'll admit I'm surprised you even know how to properly hold one. I've been holding one since I could walk. The best Knights in my Kingdom trained me," James boasted.
"Oh, he's going to go down hard, isn't he?" Lancelot questioned. Hades smirked.
"James is good...but arrogant. He's underestimating David's training," he agreed.
"I'm surprised he hasn't considered that David might have also received training," Eli commented.
"Oh he's about to find it out," Hades said, as David blocked his brother's sword in a high arc.
"Your defense is a decent effort...but you have yet to even make one offensive movement," James teased.
"Just waiting for you to give me the right opening," David countered. James smirked.
"I don't leave openings," the Prince claimed. David flicked his wrist and split his twin's defense. He whipped around with a sweeping motion and knocked James off balance. The Prince managed to parry the next strike, but David took full advantage of his stumble and swept his legs out from under him. James' face was a mask of shock and surprise, as his brother pointed the tip of his sword at his throat.
"Did we forget to mention that we trained David?" Hades chimed in.
"Uh yeah...you didn't mention that," James growled.
"You didn't ask. You just assumed I couldn't fight, but I learned, not for the glory of battle like you, but to protect my family and the woman I love," David growled in return, as he stepped back, sheathed his sword, and then offered his hand to his twin. James regarded him with a new gleam of respect in his eyes and accepted his hand.
"Good...not having to teach you how to fight will help us in battle," the Prince said, as he attempted to compose himself and cover his embarrassment that his own arrogance had caused. Rumple let out a shrill laugh.
"Excellent indeed. Now rest...for tomorrow, we begin the path that will lead us to Arawn's demise," Rumple stated.
"There is still more that you're not telling us. You're getting more out of this than just bottling true love," Hades accused.
"Perhaps…" Rumple mused.
"It is of no concern to you," the Dark One hissed.
"It is when my family is at the center of it!" Hades shouted, as his hair flashed blue.
"Hades…" Persephone chided, as she sided up to him and he sighed.
"If Snow and David are hurt in this, imp...you will pay, I promise you that. If they are harmed, then I promise you that your immortality will not save you from us," Hades threatened.
"Your threats are unnecessary...I have no interest in seeing harm come to them. The opposite, in fact. They are our future...our survival and prosperity rests with them. Everything depends on them…" Rumple retorted. Persephone regarded him and their eyes met. She knew about his son and his desire to find him. She just couldn't discern what her daughter and son-in-law could possibly have to do with it. Why they were key to it all, she had no idea. But she did know that Athena had insisted that Snow and David's love would save them all. And she trusted Athena implicitly, so she put her hand on her husband's arm.
"Snow and David will be fine, my love...we will all see to that," she assured. Hades gave the Dark One another glare, before he allowed his wife to lead him away from the tense situation.
"I don't trust him," Hades hissed to her.
"Neither do I, but I do trust Athena and she predicted that Snow and David would be very important in the fight for our future," she reminded. He sighed, as they saw Eli sharpening his sword with a wet stone.
"I want to be out there with them…" he said.
"And you will be...but we know that your work in the Underworld is important too and we'll be okay, even when you do have to return there," she replied, as she kissed him tenderly. They heard a whooshing sound and a very large, dark skinned man appeared in the meadow.
"I received your summons, Persephone," Hephaestus said in his booming voice.
"Who the hell is that?" James asked.
"Hephaestus...one of Snow's Uncles," David answered him, as his wife greeted him. The normally serious man actually had a smile for her, as he returned her hug.
~*~
"Thank you for coming," Persephone said.
"I do not leave Olympus as a rule...but you said it was very important," he replied, as he watched young Snow return to the arms of a young man that he deduced must be her new husband.
"She is happy?" he asked. Persephone smiled.
"Very happy...and I intend for it to stay that way. You know what they're about to face," she stated.
"Yes...they are joining this war. I think that is unwise," he advised.
"I don't like it either, but Athena's prophecies are never wrong. She says they will be very important to the future of everyone in this land and we both know that means they will fight for the people. King Arawn must be stopped," she replied. He nodded curtly.
"What are you asking of me?" he questioned.
"They will need all the backing they can get," she replied.
"You know that I cannot defy Zeus. I am bound in my duty to him," he reminded.
"Even if he has conspired to put a bloodthirsty King on the Throne of all the Kingdoms?" she questioned.
"If he has done what you say and has become unworthy of his Throne, then I can only be freed from his service if someone challenges him and wins the power of the heavens from him. Until that time, I am bound to him and must continue to use my forge in servitude to him," he responded.
"Are you telling me that someone...one of his siblings should challenge him for his power?" she asked.
"No...not someone or one of his siblings. It must be you…" he answered. Her eyes widened.
"Me?" she asked.
"You are already revered by most Olympians and as much as your husband has changed, they will not follow him. They will follow you though, just as mortals will follow your daughter," he advised, leaving her with much to think about.
"Do you really think I have a ghost of a chance in unseating Zeus?" she questioned.
"I would have ignored your summons if I didn't," he responded.
"I must go now," he said, as he left as quickly as he came. She saw Rumple in the distance, having watched the exchange and somehow knew he knew what they had discussed. Despite being uneasy about his intentions, she somehow knew that everything they both did was for their children…
~*~
"I guess this is owed," James said, as he put his hand out. David looked at him and then shook his hand.
"I should have suspected that King Eli might have trained you, but Hades was a surprise," he mentioned.
"It was grueling and rigorous, but I welcomed it," David replied.
"Dueling is different than war though, just keep that in mind," James advised.
"I'll be fine," David said.
"If you say so. The spoils and glory of battle can be tempting," James warned. But David shook his head.
"Not for me. I'm not in this for spoils or glory," he refuted, as he looked toward his wife.
"I'm in this for her," he assured. James smirked.
"All the better. I'll take the glory. You can have love," he retorted. David scoffed.
"Gladly. Glory is empty and love is everything," he argued.
"Maybe for you...but I've never had trouble finding someone to keep me warm at night. It's less complicated," James argued back.
"If you say so...but I'll take all the complicated in the world if it means waking up with her in my arms every morning," David countered, as he left his brother with those thoughts and joined his wife. James watched them embrace and the pure happiness on their faces, before looking away, as they kissed. Newlyweds. It would fade; he was sure it would. In his experience, love always did and he didn't expect any different from his brother and his wife. He couldn't know that he would be so very wrong about that.
"Are you okay?" Snow asked, as she pulled back from his hug and sneaked a glance at his twin in the distance. David smiled.
"I'm fine, as long as I have you," he replied, as he pulled her flush against him.
"We may look alike, but we couldn't be more different," he said.
"On the surface, but I think your brother is a lot of bluster and pain on his top layer. We know better than any two people that love changes a person and it heals," she reminded.
"You think he might find love?" he asked.
"I don't know, but he has found family. That type of love will heal him too. Then when he does find someone, he won't be too blind to see it," she replied.
"Hmm...maybe," he mused, as he swept her into his arms and she yelped in surprise.
"But enough about him and more about all the things I want to do with you right now," he leered, making her blush.
"David…" she chided, as he carried her into their cabin with a smirk.
~*~
The magma churned and boiled violently inside the mountain and the ground shook beneath it, as the lava inside bald mountain finally could be contained no more and there was a violent eruption, blowing off the rounded top of the mountain. A thick stream of lava rolled down the side of the mountain and onto the ground at the base. It convulsed and started to take a humanoid form. The sight was gruesome though, as the figure was severally charred and burned beyond recognition. The being screamed, as it morphed into a frightening creature with horns, claws, and sharp teeth, complete with expansive wings. It roared with an inhuman screech, as it became humanoid again and stood up. It looked at its hands and touched the human face that it now wore in confusion, as the human mind and monster mind melded into one. Then there was a very evil, human cackling that sounded from the being, as the human mind became dominant and he realized what had become of him. He still had much to learn of this new existence and he was surely thought to be dead. For now, he would let all think that he had truly met his demise, until the precise moment he was ready to reveal himself and enact his revenge. And with this new form...no one would stop him this time…
#Snowing#SnowxCharming#Charming family#Au#HadesXPersephone#Ruth#Robert#OC characters#greek mythology meets farytales#Rumbelle#romance#adventure#family#dreaming out loud
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Traveling...Ch.4
Chapter 3
A/N: Yeeeet! First chapter of December!
Wordcount: 1868
Warnings: Just language and being sad this time.
Tags: @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demigod-runner-who-potter @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @lexannani @pinkyiger7 @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandom-panda-221 @hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-51 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic@robotic-space @tayahqr @asprinkleofmermaids @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism @okie-dokie-artichokeme @pandartist @apandawithcookies @kitcatgirl2016
Traveling in Secret
Dear scraped paper I stole from Alex,
I guess this is my first entry since everything I had worked on before technically doesn’t exist anymore? This is all getting more confusing by the second. It’s been about a week since I showed up here, and it seems that my calculations were a bit off. We’re still about two weeks or so away from when Lee is supposed to ride out ahead. No wonder everyone has been suspicious of me, I was giving out information that was only referenced by five people. They haven’t even finished the full idea yet and I tell them I know about it. If I didn’t have to be careful before, I sure as hell do now. I’m trapped in the most influential part of American history. The actual start of the country. This is going to be difficult. Things have also been a bit tense between me and Alex recently. Every night, he’s been trying to keep tabs on me. I know that he wants to know what happened, but I don’t think I can tell him. I don’t think I can tell anyone, at least I don’t want to. But I appreciate that he hasn’t told anyone else. It’s just not something I talk about, not anymore. I feel like I’m breaking just thinking about it. I think out of everyone, Alex would understand the most. This entry will have to be short, I have a lot of work to do.
I sigh, clutching my head in my head in my hands. For now, you were put in charge of organizing everything. You kept tabs on what people were doing, what they needed, and if we even had it. Basically, you were Mama’s personal assistant. If you weren’t sitting at this desk and going through papers, you were doing errands with Mama. No one calls her by her real name, you’re not even sure if anyone knows her real name. She’s just Mama. But that didn’t bother you, after all, is that not what you’re doing? Just as you were having that thought, you saw a splotch of dark blue in the sea of black forms coming towards you.
“Oh, Mr. Laurens, what are you doing here?” Honestly, you felt a bit uncomfortable around John. It wasn’t his fault, he was extremely kind. It was more of how he looked that got to you, as bad as that sounds.
“Mama asked me to make sure you take a break, and I can’t tell her no.” He smiled at you and gesture for you to follow him. “So, take a break with me.” Say no, you are allowed to say no, you aren’t obligated to do this!
“Thank you, a break is probably needed.” God damnit! Anxiety, why do you do this to me?! You reluctantly stand up from your seat, following close behind since it was impossible to walk side by side. When the two of you exited the tent, you were relieved to see that it was cloudy. The heat has been the worst about this, everyone else has even been saying it’s unusually hot as well. You picked up the pace a bit to walk next to John. He looks so much like Philip…
“Who’s Philip?” He asked curiously. WHY DO I KEEP DOING THAT?!
“Uh! No one, just an old friend of mine!” Is that why I get uncomfortable around him? John’s eyebrows furrow but he shrugs.
“So, Miss Titania-“
“I told you to call me Titania, Miss is too formal.” You corrected.
“Well, then you can’t call me Mr. Laurens. It’s just Laurens.” He retorted. You held in a laugh, you didn’t expect that from him.
“That sounded like sass, Mama would be very disappointed!” He smirked at your joke.
“What are you going to do? Tell on me?”
“No, I’m not a snitch.” John went silent for a moment.
“So, this is what you are truly like?” He asked, you didn’t exactly get what he meant.
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, forgive me. That must have sounded rude. I just, have not gotten the chance to be around you, I was unsure of your personality.”
“I see, is that why you asked me to have my break with you?” You stopped walking. John scratched the back of his neck nervously.
“Yes, well, that’s one of my reasons…” He chuckled, you raised an eyebrow.
“And what’s the other reason?” You questioned, crossing your arms. John’s eyes widened, as if he just remembered something.
“Right! I almost forgot!” He reached his hand inside his jacket, soon pulling something out. It was wrapped in a white cloth, so you couldn’t tell what it was. “This is for you.” He held it out and you took it reluctantly. You took an inquisitive look at it before unwrapping the cloth.
“It’s…a piece of bread.” You were oddly surprised.
“You and Alex are pretty similar. When he gets focused on something, he forgets to take care of himself. He’ll get so distracted that he won’t even realize that he’s hungry. I do this for him all the time!” He admitted. Is he really that nice? Now I feel bad…
“Laurens! We need a bit of help over here!” A voice called out from a few yards away. John nodded, dipping his head down apologetically.
“I am afraid my break must be cut short. Perhaps I’ll run into you at supper?” Before you could answer, the voice cawed once more, asking for John to hurry. With a roll of his eyes, he turned and began to head towards the man. “Goodbye for now, Titania.” He waved, his curls bouncing behind him.
“Bye…” You mumbled, looking back down at the bread. You tried to take a bite, assuming it would be impossible since all the bread here is as hard as a rock. To your astonishment, the bread was easy to bite into. It’s soft…and it tastes good?! You didn’t realize how hungry you were. You ended up scarfing down bread quickly. But then you had a second of realization. If he didn’t get that from here, then where did it come from? Suddenly, an arm linked with yours.
“Wh-“
“There is no time, Titania! The General wishes to see you immediately!” It was Alex, dragging you by the arm, to Washington’s tent.
“Wait! Wait! Alex! I’m not ready! Noooooo!” Alex shushed you before you came too close to the tent. He let go of you once you reached the entrance, motioning for you to go first. Taking a deep gasp of air, you took a step inside. He looked up from his desk, a map in front of him. You felt oddly guilty for breaking his concentration.
“Ah, Miss Taylor, please, sit down.” You looked behind you, you expected Alex to come in with you but he either left or was waiting outside.
“Yes sir.” You took a seat in a chair in front of his desk, you felt like you were in the principal’s office. “Is something wrong, sir? You haven’t called me in before…” He sensed your nervousness and quickly reassured you.
“Do not worry, I’m just going to ask you some questions.” NO! MY WORST FEAR! You tried to swallow your fears. He stood up, walking around you. This is an interrogation, I know what these look like… “When you first arrived, you told Colonel Laurens and Alexander that you knew of top secret plans that hadn’t left this very tent…how is it that you came upon such information.” God damnit! What do I say?!
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” Way to be vague, Y/N! George’s eyes narrowed, urging you to continue. “I overheard it!” Good start!
“From who?”
“Y-You?” Today is not my day! A mixture of surprise, concern, and amazement poured into his pupils. “The day I talked to Laurens and Alex…wasn’t the first time I was here. I overheard you discussing the concept originally.” This is risky, but it’s all I’ve got right now…
“A spy.” He stated.
“Wh-What are you-“
“I’m talking about you.” His voice wasn’t cold, more analytical, focused. But you were panicking.
“No! I swear! I’m not a spy! I wou-“ He held up his hand to signal for you to be quiet.
“I believe you.” Wait…didn’t he just say I was a spy?! “I’m a General, I wouldn’t risk the safety of my army just for a random woman who appeared out of thin air. I was suspicious of you from the beginning.” Of…course he was… “That being said, you’re clearly no longer in league with the red coats-“
“But how do you know that?” Honestly, you were tired of some of this shit going on today.
“I’ve had Mama keep close tabs on you, she personally requested it. On top of that, you don’t fit the mold of an active spy. And I know because we have one here with us that I also had help me with this endeavor.” Hercules Mulligan…That sly bitch! “Spies lay low, don’t get involved, don’t cause a scene. They would never try to break into our ranks without joining first. They also wouldn’t make the scene as dramatic. And most importantly, they wouldn’t get as close as you have.” Close? “A spy will silently work their way through the day, avoiding making attachments. You, have been nothing but trusting. You go out of your way to prove yourself. You have exceptional skills on top of that. I may not agree with the crown, but they are not idiots. No way in hell they would send a wealthy woman to become a spy in this manner.” That’s right, woman were usually used as mistresses acquire information…on top of that, they’d never let a woman with a sliver of power taste freedom during this period. It would have been democratic suicide. “So that leaves one option…” The whole time, he had been walking around you, but now he came to a sudden stop to look down at you. “It was your idea to become a spy…what I can’t figure out is why.” It was a statement but you knew it was a question. Okay, you can do this. Just go with it.
“I was threatened. They were planning on killing me. It was the only thing I could come up with to let them spare me.”
“What was your crime?” He asked, not missing a beat.
“Being the daughter of a traitor.” You took a deep breath. “My father, he openly degraded the kingship. He was rallying protests in the streets. He was caught and…” These stories get harder to tell the longer I’m here… George nodded, he seemed to understand enough from what you were saying. And the few stray tears dancing off your lashes weren’t exactly incriminating you.
“You needn’t say anymore. Unfortunately, I cannot simply let you go with this information.”
“Wait! Please, I-“
“Let me finish. However, I can still make a deal with you.” A deal? “I will allow you continue your work here, as you clearly wish to do. On one condition…”
“And what is this condition?”
“You give us all the information you have on the British’s plans.”
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Fremione moodboard → In the name of love
When Ginny stops by at the twins’ store in Diagon Alley on a Monday afternoon, she only finds George. George is being frustratingly vague about Fred’s whereabouts and she can’t get anything out of him. Annoyed at her brother’s behaviour, she leaves the store a short five minutes later, huffing and frowning. The only other time George hasn’t told her where Fred is was when Fred was on a date and he didn’t want Ginny to tease him. And she only got that out of him after a fair amount of Firewhisky shots.
So, Ginny comes to the conclusion that Fred must be on a date.
It turns out she’s not wrong. It’s just completely different than she (or any of the Weasleys) expected.
Tuesday evening is an evening like any other. When Hermione gets home, Fred has a cup of tea ready for her and he’s on the sofa waiting for her. George is in the kitchen making dinner because, let’s be honest, Fred can’t cook to save his life and he knows it. After one failed date where he had attempted to make them dinner and it had ended with Hermione putting out the fire on the stove with her wand and ordering Thai for dinner.
She doesn’t mind that Fred can’t cook – she lives with both twins and fortunately, George can cook so there’s always dinner on the table when she gets home. Fred knows she loves a good cup of tea when she gets home and always makes sure it’s exactly the way she likes it – with a swish of milk and two sugars.
“Hey darling, how was work today?” Fred asks. He looks tired, Hermione thinks, like he had an extremely busy day at the shop. He holds out her favourite mug and she takes it from him, setting down her briefcase and taking a long sip of her tea with her eyes closed. When she swallows, she feels like she can breathe again.
“Very busy,” she finally answers Fred and she kisses his cheek as a greeting. It never fails to make him blush just a little bit and she loves it. Fred is rarely shy or embarrassed, and he’s usually the one to initiate public affection but he’s still not used to Hermione being the one to show affection. Of course, he knows she loves him, but she doesn’t often show it in physical touches. “Ron had an incident with a Muggle girl in central London and they had me sort it out and it took ages.”
Fred rolls his eyes at the mention of his younger brother. “That does sound like Ron. You’ve been sorting out his messes since your first year at Hogwarts, I’m not surprised.”
Hermione chuckles. “Your brother isn’t that bad. He’s just still not really used to Muggles and tends to use non-Muggle words around them and today, it escalated.” Fred throws her a dark look as she shakes off her coat and pulls the elastic out of her hair, letting the curls spring free from her bun. Before he can say anything else about Ron, she asks “And how was your day? You look tired, was it busier than usual?”
Fred sinks back into the couch and sighs. “Apparently a lot of people misunderstood the date on those flyers we released for the launch of our new Wonder Witch range. They all thought it was today and they flooded the shop and drove Verity almost insane with all kinds of questions. We had to send her home early so we were one man short.”
Hermione sits down next to him, placing her hand in his. “At least dinner’s almost ready.” Fred smiles at her as George calls from the kitchen that the spaghetti is ready. They eat as they chat about their days and Hermione recounts the story of Ron and the Muggle girl, much to the twins’ amusement.
“Oh, by the way,” George says, stuffing a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth, “Ginny stopped by yesterday.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Hermione scolds him and he rolls his eyes.
“Yes, mum. Ginny stopped by yesterday when you two were on your mysterious date.”
“What did she want?” Fred asks, glancing sideways at Hermione when he remembers he has his mouth full but she doesn’t comment on it.
“She wanted to know where you were,” he shrugs. “Don’t know if she wanted something from you but she wasn’t happy when she left.”
Fred snorts. “Of course. Don’t ever tell her I said this, but she’s even nosier than mum sometimes.”
“If I were you, I’d give her a satisfactory explanation soon before she starts digging,” George suggests.
“Why can’t we just tell her?” Hermione asks, her fork paused halfway between her plate and her mouth.
“Telling Ginny is telling Mum and Fleur,” Fred explains, putting down his fork. “They will start planning a wedding, I tell you.”
“So we start with the boys,” Hermione says. “George knows and Molly hasn’t stopped by yet.”
“’Mione, are you sure about this? We’re a loud bunch, especially on Sunday dinners and Christmas,” Fred warns.
“Oh please, I’ve handled Ron and Harry for years,” she huffs. “I can handle you two on a daily basis. I can definitely handle Molly.”
“She’s got a point,” George says, mouth full of spaghetti again.
“Shut up,” Fred says, smacking his twin. “If you’re sure, ‘Mione.”
“I am. Trust me.” She smiles at him and intertwines their hands. “Besides, I’m tired of not being able to tell Harry and Ginny about us and exchange embarrassing stories about our significant others. Merlin knows we got plenty of those.”
“Should we tell them separately or just all at once?” Fred ponders out loud.
“All at once,” George says loudly. “Unless you think our dear siblings can keep their mouths shut around mum.”
“He’s probably right,” Hermione replies, “We could do it at Sunday dinner this week.”
-
On Sunday, Molly is pleasantly surprised Hermione shows up. She’s been inviting her to Sunday dinner since the end of the war, but Hermione has only shown up about three times. It’s not that she doesn’t like Sunday dinners, but she had a pretty boring life before Fred and there was really nothing to tell at the dinner table, whereas the other Weasleys all had exciting stories and tales to share.
Fred and Hermione made the deal last night to wait with their announcement until after dinner so no one (Ron) could choke on food in shock. It was a real possibility, as Fred assured her. Hermione, having spent pretty much every meal time at Hogwarts with Ron, believed him immediately.
“Hermione dear, it’s so good to see you!” Molly exclaims when she Apparates just outside the Burrow, Fred and George right behind her.
“Hi Molly.” She embraces the older woman shortly before moving inside the house as Molly hugs the twins and scolds them for not stopping by more often. She imagines Fred rolling his eyes behind her back and smiles. When she looks back for a second, she sees George trying to free himself from his mother’s grasp and Fred, having escaped her already, rolling his eyes as she predicted. She shakes her head fondly as she greets Ginny.
“Hermione, I haven’t seen you in ages!” Ginny exclaims. “You should come over more often!”
“Well, she will be coming over more often,” Fred chimes in and Hermione gives him a warning look. “Because-“ There’s a long silence when Fred forgets his train of thought and Hermione spots the panicked look on his face. Knowing Fred, he probably forgot they would wait until after dinner.
“Because what, Fred?” Ginny asks. The look on her face resembles Molly’s at her worst and Fred’s face shows how scared he still is of his little sister. Hermione secretly thinks it’s kind of funny.
“Because-“ He looks desperately at Hermione and she gives him an amused smile, trying to convey the message that he got himself in this mess and he should fix it himself.
“Because they’re dating,” George yells from somewhere in the house, probably the kitchen. Ginny’s mouth fall open in stunned silence and Hermione pulls out her wand and rounds on George, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Jerk,” she mumbles, putting her wand back in her jeans pocket.
It’s almost unnaturally silent in the Burrow when Ginny asks “Is it true, Hermione? Are you and Fred dating?” She looks over to Fred, who is uncharacteristically quiet and frozen in place.
Hermione smiles bravely, taking Fred’s hand in her own and answer with a clear “Yes.”
This seems to nudge Fred back into action, who pulls her into his side. “Yes, we are. We were actually going to wait until after dinner in case ickle Ronniekins was in danger of choking on his food, but George had other plans.” He shoots his twin, who’s sneaked back into the living room, a dark look. George doesn’t look apologetic in the least when he mumbles a quick sorry.
The first to go over to them is, unsurprisingly, Charlie. Hermione has a suspicion that he knew all along or that either of the twins told him a while ago, because all he does is welcome Hermione to the family officially and give her a hug. Bill and Fleur are next, Fleur already looking way too excited about a possible future wedding and blabbering about flowers and dresses. “Ignore her, just take it as slow as you want,” Bill whispers in her ear as he hugs her and Hermione remembers why Bill is her favourite. “And you,” he adds, releasing Hermione and pointing a finger at Fred, “you better take good care of her or I will know where to find you.”
“I second that,” Charlie calls and Harry waves a hand in agreement as well.
Hermione chuckles at them and says “He’s treating me just fine, guys. Besides, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself with a wand.” Ron shudders at the memory of the little birds that attacked him in sixth year and Harry grins to himself.
Percy congratulates them in his usual stiff manner, but she appreciates it nonetheless.
Ron and Harry both warn Fred that they know where to find him should he ever do anything to hurt Hermione. “I’m your brother, aren’t you supposed to be threatening her?” Fred whines but he intertwines his fingers with Hermione’s and squeezes gently.
Ron and Harry share a look before chorusing a loud “No.”
Ginny recovers from her shock next, wrapping Hermione in a tight, crushing hug. “Oh Merlin, I can’t believe we’re finally going to be actual sisters!” She keeps squealing in Hermione’s ear until Harry gently pulls her away and steers her towards the kitchen.
“What do you think, mum?” George asks from his place in the corner of the room, where he has been hiding in hopes of not getting beaten by Hermione. He seems to think he’s safe now, but Hermione isn’t quite ready to let him get away with it yet.
“You,” she says in a threatening tone to George, “I will get you back later.” He cowers back just as Molly enters the room.
“What do I think about what, Georgie?”
“About me and Hermione dating,” Fred answers and Molly, like Ginny not too long ago, freezes in place and her mouth drops open.
“That’s nice, Fred,” Arthur says distractedly, studying the Muggle toaster Harry bought him for his birthday last week.
“Are you saying that Hermione is finally a part of the family?” Molly says breathlessly and when Fred nods, it’s not Hermione but Fred she hugs first. “Oh Freddie, you finally did something right!” she exclaims and Hermione bursts out laughing at the downright offended look on his face.
“Mum, I daresay I did more than one thing right in my life,” he starts but Molly just shushes him and turns to Hermione instead.
“Hermione, dear, I’m so glad Fred finally decided to get his head on straight and do something about that crush he’s been harbouring for ages! I can’t wait to show you the old photographs!”
Hermione smiles gleefully as she pokes Fred in the side when he goes to protest. “I can’t wait, Molly. I want to hear all about what he and George did as kids.” Molly claps her hands together happily and dashes off to find the photo albums as Fred and George collectively groan. “Don’t you complain, George Weasley. You started this. Merlin, I hope she has some good blackmail material.”
Bill laughs. “Oh Fred, you have no idea what you’re in for.”
Fred pulls Hermione in for a short kiss and smiles at her. “Maybe I don’t, but man, am I excited to find out.”
Also on ao3!
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Overture and first movement
Fishguard to Wexford
The choice was difficult from the outset. Full waterproofs, or jeans and lightweight oversuit? Ireland’s reputation for rain had preceded the holiday planning and so, on the day, we simply opted for both. Jeans squeezed in the tail pack and waterproofs on the riders. For us, the Oxford Section Ireland Trip was an adventure of an entirely unprecedented scale. 10 days of riding, 5 hotels, close to 2,000 miles, and 2 up. When fully loaded, at trickling pace, our R1200RS was a bit of a ‘handful’ but once underway, with the suspension suitably dialled-in, the bike was still, as ever, a joy to ride.
Ready for the off
Although some of the Section’s members were meeting near Chippenham, we would have needed such an early start as to render our participation impractical. Instead, we chose a leisurely first day ride to Fishguard on the Sunday. Riding a cross-country route, we passed through Farnham, Basingstoke, and through to Newbury, opting for the A4 instead of a thrash along the motorway. The weather was favourable excepting a couple of small showers and a nagging, blustery wind, that seemed to follow us for most of the holiday.
Our Welsh accommodation, close to the ferry terminal, was comfortable and gave us the opportunity to relax with an enjoyable evening meal and a cheeky G&T at the ‘local’ before the adventure started for real.
Monday 12 June
The ferry sailing was booked for around 13.00 leaving us a morning to explore Fishguard with its Victorian industrial heritage and architecture, and views across the picturesque bay. This was an ideal way to ‘chill’ before Mrs. M faced her nemesis, the Irish Sea with its millpond-like swell.
Mrs. M’s nemesis, the Irish Sea at full force in the bay at Fishguard
Wending our way down to check-in, we found ourselves close some earlier arrivals and, as with all BMW Club events, we soon got to know each other. George and Ruth, and Tim, on their respective RTs, and Ray on his GS. Following a comparison of bike notes, and the arrival of further members of the Group, we were soon ready for embarkation. This was all new for me with my prior experience only being the melee of loading for the TT. Manx veterans will be familiar the cattle herding process, the vast numbers of bikes, and the loading ramp with its steep, challenging hairpin ramp. I’ve seen too many riders come to grief simply trying to start their TT holidays. In contrast, the ramp onto the Stena Europa was a straight run with a right-hand turn onto an open, if rather greasy, car deck.
We were treated like customers instead of an irritation to the deck-hands, with the bikes strapped down with some care. Although windy, the gentle, undulating crossing was made bearable with the usual banter being exchanged, and time for us to get to know the rest of the party.
Disembarking in Rosslare, we headed, en-masse, to our first hotel. First impressions of Ireland as we rode away from the port’s hinterland was both the contrasts and similarities with the UK. The architecture and ‘feel’ was UK and yet, European influences in such things as the road layout and signage were quite marked. The roads were wide and well maintained, with many drivers willingly pulling aside into the yellow marked, peripheral lanes, allowing us to pass.
After negotiating the evening peak traffic, the ‘Mustard Monolith’ that is the Talbot Hotel hove into view. Paul Fitzgerald of Wild Irish Tours, agent for tour, had arranged reserved parking in an otherwise limited space, allowing us to check in with the minimum of fuss. The bar proved a strong attraction before enjoying one of the more formal dinners for the now 18 members of the party for the trip.
Second Movement
Wexford to Ballyvourney
Tuesday 13 June
Acknowledging the impracticality of not only riding in such numbers, but the varying interests of each member, Tuesday saw us splitting up into various sub-groups, each with its own preferences. Mrs. M and I teamed up with Geoff, Rob, Clive, and Tim for this ride. Our agreed agenda was to make Waterford, with its famous cut-glass crystal factory, our first port of call.
Loosely following the GPX on the satnav, with Geoff taking the lead, the first part of the route took us along the major ‘N’ roads, through the gently rolling, green, countryside, but somehow missing the turning to our destination. This minor error left us to the mercy of a section of toll road, over an impressive, modern suspension bridge, directly to the toll booths, just to turn-off immediately after payment. Vaguely following the signs, we made our way past the contemporary industrial developments to the heart of the City with its associated congestion.
Stop-start, we turned onto the quayside road and, in a controlled wobble on our heavily laden bike, for some distance before the decision was made to make enquiries as to where the factory was. Our slow progress did allow us time to appreciate the varying architecture, some dating from Georgian times, and through to the heritage structures along the, now largely ornamental, quayside. Somehow, 5 of us had managed to ride right past the well signed building without seeing it. Nothing to do but turn around and fight our way back!
Rob and Geoff debate: Is it possible that 5 people can ride past the Waterford Crystal Factory without seeing it?
Finally parking in the Waterford Factory courtyard, the coffee shop was a welcome sight. Unfortunately, it was the unofficial parking that was our undoing, being asked to move-on just as we finished our refreshments. Let’s face though, we couldn’t practically have bought anything – nowhere to put a piece of lead crystal on the bike, and for another 8 days.
Picking up the GPX route out of town, we soon found ourselves in the stunning Irish countryside, heading for the Copper Coast. This is not only a beautiful area of coastline, but is recognised for its geological importance being a UNESCO Geopark. Following the undulating, curvy, coastal road, not only did we have a superb ride, but saw some spectacular views of inlets and deserted sandy beaches. The historical working of the minerals was further highlighted by abandoned mine buildings.
DCIM101DRIFT
Our original plan had been to head toward the Cobh Heritage centre, last port of call for the ill-fated ships Titanic and Lusitania. This was however, our first education in Irish touring. On the map, without deviations, the route was ‘only’ 157 miles but these are winding, country lanes with many photo stop opportunities and, some time before Cobh was even on the horizon, a comfort break and lunch was called for.
The closer alternative was a break at the Jameson Distillery Visitor Centre, Midleton. The full Distillery tour, it turned out, was too long for our schedule and sampling would be even more inappropriate than buying Waterford Crystal. Lunch in the café however, was very welcome and gave our journey renewed impetus.
Following a car park conference, we headed for a pure tourist spot; Blarney Castle, home of the eponymous Stone. The scenery continued to impress as the afternoon’s ride progressed until we reached the Castle car park where we were able to dismount and get relief from numb bum. The Castle gardens were worth a visit in their own right, but the Castle itself, although swathed in builders’ film, was spectacular.
The queue to reach the Stone was disguised by a 600 year-old, spiral staircase, that fortunately, only took us about 20 minutes to negotiate. After a circuit of the Tower parapet, the kissing was a slightly unceremonious process. The guide helps to position you on a mat before being pushed, upside down, through a gap in the tower wall and promptly being pulled back with the ubiquitous photograph ticket being thrust into your hand to exchange, with payment of course, as a memento of you discomfort.
Meandering back through the gardens, Rob suggested it was ice cream time. This was the first time on the trip we saw his prowess at negotiation.
Rob: ‘Do we get volume discount?’
Young lady serving (YLS): ‘Oh, no.’
Rob: ‘Discount for pensioners?’
YLS (with giggle): ‘No, but I’ll give a slightly bigger one.’
Rob disappointed.
We sat under a tree eating until Rob managed to drop the ice cream off the cone.
Rob: ‘5 second rule – it’ll be OK.’
Seconds later, he managed to crush his cone, nearly repeating the earlier drop.
Rob: ‘I’m going back to complain.’ (with a cheeky grin)
2 minutes later he returned, not with a new cone but, with a complete new ice cream.
Rob: ‘I’ll never eat all of this.’
Moral: Be careful what you wish for!
Tired from the events of the day, we finally headed off to the Mills Inn Hotel in Ballyvourney.
Third Movement
Ballyvourney to Spanish Point.
Wednesday 14 June
Following the procedure from the previous day, we split into our touring parties and headed off. Although breakfast seemed only a blink away, our first stop was the beautiful, natural harbour of Kinsale, in the mouth of the river Bandon. On advice from Wild Irish Tours, we parked in a corner of the local pay and display car park without paying (rebels? BMW Club? Surely not!) before setting off in search of refreshments.
Reinvigorated, we headed for the hills following the now sign-posted Wild Atlantic Way (WAW). The roads were a riders’ delight. Bends, climbs, drops, and a few straights, all against a backdrop of stunning views across the hills, which, at times, were an inappropriate distraction. As we progressed westwards, so the cloud cover increased until we reached another notable natural harbour at Bantry. The weather was becoming muggy demanding, and finding, another delightful watering hole for lunch.
The promise for the afternoon was the Healy Pass. There wasn’t much detail but the name should have been enough. Setting out from Bantry, we headed north along the N7, along a good wide road with plenty of sweeping curves to keep it interesting. After a series of tighter bends around Glengarriff, we turned onto the R572, a lower class of road. At this stage of the tour, I had no maps or information except what was on the sat nav. That said Healy Pass. It definitely wasn’t!
We had been moving-on at a good pace, overtaking some of the HGVs that had to take this route by necessity, before turning down a narrow country lane and there it was, set out before us. The Healy Pass, climbs 335 metres into the Caha Mountains. This is a road that was originally conceived as part of an initiative to improve the Country’s infrastructure and create paid employment during the 1845 Potato Famine. But, like so many Government initiatives, even to this day, failed to meet its original goals succeeding only through the drive of Cork politician, Timothy Healy. This was a challenging climb with multiple hairpins, adverse cambers, and not a lot of Armco. The view back down the valley from the peak was stunning, and was equalled by the view down ‘the other side’. Sadly, the descending cloud base encouraged us to move on before being fogged in.
Rob lead the ride down from the peak with many more wonderful views and still able to see the coast, to the north, in the distance. Passing the hamlet of Lauragh, Rob followed his satnav (not always a good idea) joining one of the network boreens, the single track, metalled roads, that go on for many kilometres, often without any passing places or turnings. This route was ‘entertaining’, riding 2 up, close to any hedges or brushwood, with grass in the middle, but still definitely enjoyable. After what seemed like 10k, we finally came back to civilisation, heading back to The Mills for a welcoming shower and refreshment.
Thursday 15 June
After a post-breakfast, campaign meeting, it was agreed that the famous Ring of Kerry circuit was good, as per the GPX route for the day but in reverse, allowing a visit to the picturesque Gap of Dunloe as the first stop.
Having got away quite early, the car park at Kate Kearny’s Cottage, the entrance to the Gap, was deserted. The local pony ‘wranglers’ were preparing their stock for a day’s trading, (fleecing?) offering tourists pony and trap rides up through the narrow valley in the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks mountains. Rob stepped forwards with his Chief Negotiator hat on. The wrangler had an opening bid of E22, Rob haggled down to E20 but wanted E18 based on 5 passengers sharing but failed and withdrew. (We weren’t bothered about going, saving us E36 altogether.) There was a suggestion of riding up the road on the bikes but were ‘discouraged’ by the ‘wranglers’ who pointed to nicely weasel worded signs that the road was ‘predominantly’ for the use of the ponies and traps. Instead, we walked about ½ mile to the first peak in the road to see deeper into the beautiful, tree covered valley before returning for refreshments.
Returning to the bikes, the weather was beginning to deteriorate with a light shower. The roads remained dry for a while but the weather then closed-in, with the blustery winds blowing rain horizontally. This was a popular route and, in addition to the rain, we had coaches, caravans, and cyclists, all making sightseeing difficult. The clouds finally descended onto the mountains, generally making this a less pleasant part of the expedition. Descending through Cahersiveen, the rain eased and by the time we got to Portmagee for our lunch stop, the sun was starting to peep through the clouds. Portmagee is a small, widely dispersed, fishing community with its pretty, low level houses, set into the gentle, grassed slopes that descend into the Portmagee Channel. To me, this was a picture that almost seemed to be set in a different time and place.
The view back to Portmagee
After lunch, we continued along the coastal road, through to the Coomanaspic Pass,stopping for a photo opportunity from its peak. Looking to the North was Portmagee and, to the south, the shapes of the bird sanctuaries of Little Skellig and Great Skellig could be made out through the mist, the latter doubling as the home of one Mr Luke Sky Walker from the recent, Star Wars – The Force Awakens, film.
The Wild Atlantic Way followed the line of the coast, dramatically rising and falling, rounding small coves and bays, giving us a thoroughly enjoyable, if not tiring, ride. Following a brief tea break, we continued, following the WAW back to Kenmare, before picking up the R569 back to the Mills Inn for a very welcome evening of relaxation. The evening was augmented by a live quartet of accordion players entertaining us with traditional Irish music and song, complemented by some Irish dancers. The keener members of our party were charged E15 for entry to the venue, but those of us more leisurely with our repast, walked in a little later unaware of any admission charges. Result!
Friday 16 June
Bikes packed for moving on, we set off under low clouds and light drizzle. The scenery however, even under these conditions, was more than adequate compensation. Initially riding past hills and mountains, the landscape gradually gave way to the lower lying, coastal plain. Turning along the coast to Castlemaine Harbour, we followed the road around its periphery to the Dingle Peninsula and to Dingle itself.
Inch Beach, County Kerry
Although the GPX route allowed for a circular route onwards, to the end of the Peninsula, the rigours of constant riding were taking their toll with the more reserved of us, opting instead, to remain in the town waiting for the return of the hardier riders looking to squeeze every last drop of the Irish roads.
Following advice in an article in Motorcycle Sport and Leisure, we had decided that as a cure for the increasing prevalence of numb bum, we would treat ourselves to a sheepskin seat cover. Dingle, with its shops (and time to look), would surely be able to offer something. We were not disappointed. We found the one. A beautiful colour, generously sized, but a little more expensive than we’d wanted. Even Rob couldn’t negotiate the price down. Hey ho! We are now the proud owners of our own piece of Irish ovine memorabilia, now affectionately known as Dingle. The difference has been significant, especially on longer runs.
Satisfied customer with sheepskin seat cover aka Dingle
Following lunch, and with the murky weather prevailing, we headed North, towards the Conor Pass. Climbing sharply out of Dingle, despite the wind, we soon found ourselves enveloped in a swirling mist and, the higher we climbed, the more dense the mist became. When we reached the summit, the road curved around to the right, with a sheer drop to our left, shrouded in mist, but at least secured by crash barriers, and a sheer rock face to the right. Visibility was down to about 30 feet as we began to descend. Suddenly, we were confronted by an array of car rear lights littered across the road, and worse, some of them were starting to reverse. On a fully laden bike, down an increasingly steep slope, this was not my idea of fun. I pulled over into a small recess in the rock wall to wait for any cars coming up but it was a complete impasse. Drivers incapable of driving their vehicles were effectively locked together in this surreal, swirling mist.
Rob decided to take the bull by the horns, shoehorning himself through the melee of cars, and out of sight. Eventually moving out from our refuge, the car in front of us began to creep forward preventing us from overtaking but not moving fast enough to allow me to either engage the clutch or get my feet up onto the pegs. I had no option but to control a heavy bike, trying to run away on a steep gradient, on the front brake. Tending to snatch at this speed, the ride was both uncomfortable and disconcerting. Eventually, the car scored 4 faults for a refusal at the next hurdle – an up-coming coach, allowing us to sneak through the space and continue our descent. This was probably one of the most frightening rides I have ever had, particularly given how slowly we were moving.
Re-grouping, we continued our run down, out of the clouds, into bright sunshine. The view across the peninsula from this altitude was both breath-taking and reassuring. We continued our run with only a couple of satnav related glitches, through to the Shannon Ferry.
The Shannon Estuary…
..and its ferry
On the crossing, we did catch occasional glimpses of the famous dolphins, but not long enough for any photographs, until we disembarked for the final run to Spanish Point and sanctuary.
Fourth Movement
Spanish Point to Ballina
Saturday 17 June
The early morning cloud at Spanish Point soon burnt off, leaving a beautiful sunny day for our ride up the coast towards Galway Bay.
First stop on the satnav was the 700 foot, sheer cliff face, that drops directly into the Atlantic Ocean at The Cliffs of Moher. A popular attraction, this natural phenomenon involves an entry fee and a consequent challenge to Rob’s negotiating skills. Declaring us to all be pensioners, Rob managed a reduction from E12 down to E5, and then a further 50 cents. It emerged that, although Mrs. M, who would never pass as a pensioner, had to close her crash helmet discreetly as we passed the pay booth. It later emerged that the E7 reduction was for BMW Club Membership and only the 50cents was for being pensioners. The views from the cliff top were spectacular.
Returning to the bikes, we followed the coast for a short ride to Doolin for coffee, before moving further North, where we found ourselves in the familiar territory from the home counties, a cycle race. The cyclists made riding very challenging on the narrow, undulating, roads when trying to see the magnificent views across to Galway. The precession continued for 6 or 7 miles, through Black Head to Ballyvaughan, with hundreds of participants, each paying little heed to other road users in their quest for the winners’ laurels.
Following the GPX route to the Alliwee Caves and a belated lunch break, we did the tourist bit, and took a guided tour round the caves, finally emerging into the bright sunlight of the afternoon, like mis-guided moles.
Having been a follower to this point, I volunteered to lead for the first time with an agreed destination of Father Ted’s House. Programming this into the satnav, set on curvy roads, we went ‘off-piste’ as far as the ‘official’ GPX file was concerned, through some beautiful country lanes, across The Burren National Park with its stunning limestone pavement landscape.
Being so far off the route, there were twitching sounds from some of the party, but Mr Garmin came good, delivering us to the site of pilgrimage (if you watched the series – to the rest of us it was an anti-climax).
The noises were now growing for a quick return to Spanish Point. Re-tuning Mr Garmin, we were soon underway, eventually re-joining our route from the morning. Bowling along, nicely, Rob overtook us and in what can only be described as a lapse in concentration, clipped a grass bank, catapulting him and his bike into the air, and down with a horrifying crash. He sustained a gashed nose and broken leg requiring the attention of paramedics and hospitalisation. (I only include this episode because it had an impact on the rest of the trip and that Rob is making good progress, anticipating a full recovery.) Rob’s attempt at aviation delayed dinner somewhat, not least because Geoff took on the role of administrator, arranging insurance claims, bike collection, and advising Marrion of Rob’s condition. It would be fair to say that it took some of the polish off the trip going forwards.
Sunday 18 June
Loaded up once again, we had another priority besides the GPX today. A visit to Limerick A&E to see our injured mate, Rob. Another warm day, and I have to admit, the shock of the earlier events had hit me, leaving me and some of our other riding buddies, more weary than perhaps we realised.
Having done 4 laps of the new, but poorly signed, Limerick A&E building, we eventually tracked the lad down. Rob was as perky as ever, recounting his chat with the female paramedic,
Rob: Have we got the blue flashing lights on?
Paramedic: Yes
Rob: Have we used the sirens?
Paramedic: Yes
Rob: Cor! I’ve waited 74 years for this.
Reassuring him that everything was in-hand, we left Rob in his upbeat mood, with time for lunch. For those of us who are fathers, this must rank as one of the more memorable Fathers’ Day lunches: Sandwiches and tea in the new A&E Reception of Limerick Hospital. As hospital reception areas go, this one was better than most but…
Returning to the bikes, we headed north towards Ballina, with an intended visit to Galway en-route. This was a disappointment, with heavy Sunday afternoon traffic, we got as far as PC World / Tesco before turning back to the road northwards.
Tim lead, eventually taking a diversion to Pontoon for a brief photo opportunity before hitting Ballina, about 5.30, absolutely exhausted from the day’s ride.
View across the lough at Pontoon
The hotel and its location gave us quite a lift, with a beautiful post-dinner walk across the River Moy in the evening sunshine, before turning in for a good night’s rest.
From the bridge at Ballina
Fifth Movement
Ballina to Wexford and Home
Monday 19 June
Our riding had been quite intensive up this point and the general view was that today’s ride needed to be less demanding. I had identified Lough Melvin, a lesser known tract of water on the border between The Republic and Northern Ireland but slightly off the tourist trail. This was a totally idiosyncratic choice on my part but I was touched that our riding buddies wished to join us.
Setting off northwards at a leisurely pace, we followed the WAW route along the coastal road, once again, being treated to the stunning scenery. Eventually, following the signs, we took a spur to Aughris Head. This was a delightfully deserted beach, with nothing but a few caravans and a charming pub, and a disproportionately large car park indicating its popularity at other times. This was the traditional Irish pub that we’d all anticipated but not previously found.
Tea and tiffin later, we resumed our run along the coast, offering yet more scenic treats. Ballysadare Bay, Sligo Harbour, Strandhill Beach, and through to Mullaghmore Head, a continuing wealth of riches, before following the satnav for the final run across country to Kinlough, on the banks of Lough Melvin.
DCIM101DRIFT
I’m not sure what I’d expected, but this wasn’t it. Although beautiful, this was right off the mainstream trail. It was so quiet that even the cafes closed for lunch – fortunately not all of them. We parked up and wandered along ‘Main Street’, past the pub that also offered undertaking services, until we found Giovani’s Café, cum photographers, cum museum, cum formal meeting facility, where the locals all met for lunch. The food was exceptional, home-made, and reasonably priced. Result!
Kinlough – do the cafes close for lunch?
Replete, we agreed that with the loops around the bays, this had become a longer ride-out than anticipated and a direct route back was in order. We returned to Ballina around 4 o’clock with time to wander around the town and relax before dinner.
Our group, the ‘Famous Five’, met for dinner in the reception of the Hotel. The view was eating out was the preference, with Tim suggesting The Lantern, Chinese restaurant, one that we had also seen. Geoff let a couple of the others know where we headed, before presenting ourselves as 5, possibly 7, diners.
Team dinner
Gradually, in dribs and drabs, the rest of the party joined us, swelling our numbers to a total of 15 and having a proper Chinese/Irish hooley. With the Hotel unable to offer Guinness on draft that evening, the hooley then moved to an adjacent pub (cum fishing tackle shop!) where further imbibing took place until all-fall-down, either through tiredness, drink, or both.
Tuesday 20 June
The previous day’s run was ‘only’ 120 miles, but with the final leg of the tour scheduled for Wednesday of 250 miles, and with very few motorways, we really did need to go for a shorter ride-out. Taking the GPX route, we made our first stop at Downpatrick Head with its dramatic sheer cliffs, and offshore stacks. As an author, your supply of superlatives becomes readily exhausted in this stunning countryside, and the vista at Downpatrick Head was another superb example.
Our second stop was a visit to Ceide Fields, a preserved, Neolithic, agricultural community site. Preserved under the peat bog for several millennia, this is one of the most extensive sites of this type in world and includes defined field systems, enclosures, and tombs, dating back about 5000 years. The coffee in the imaginatively designed, visitor centre wasn’t bad either.
Following the GPX route again, we traversed the fantastic moorlands around Creagan Beag. This is a virtually uninhabited area, with rolling hills and mountains, stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction, with only a handful of sheep for company. We stopped for a photo opportunity in the sunshine, and all that could be heard was the occasional, inquisitive insect, buzzing past.
With another group consultation, in order to manage the mileage, we agreed a trip along the nearby Mullet Peninsula to Black Sod, before a return ride to Ballina via Bangor. Black Sod lighthouse, with its extreme westerly location, was used as the weather forecasting station to determine the final decision for launching the D-Day campaign.
Today, this area is a sublimely peaceful, headland and quayside, with a few fishing boats bobbing up and down in the natural harbour. It doesn’t take too much imagination however, to realise that it could be quite hostile in different weather conditions.
The run back to Ballina was yet another treat, arriving in time for a dinner in the restaurant, overlooking the River Moy.
Wednesday 20 June
The cross-country ride back to Wexford was always destined to be a challenge, but our detour to visit Rob, made our journey that little bit longer. The weather was changeable during the ride but, finding yet another excellent café with home-made cakes, kept us going.
Transferred to Croom Orthopaedic Hospital for surgery, Rob was now located a few miles outside Limerick, in a hospital that, with its adequate, free parking, tended gardens, and informal atmosphere, seemed to be locked into a 1960s time-warp. Post-surgery, Rob was still very upbeat and reassured us that things were heading in the right direction. The conversation soon turned to repatriation of both rider and bike with great optimism, although, only time will tell what conditions emerge.
Our final stop en-route was Tiperary, just because it’s a long way, before arriving back in Wexford for dinner and, finally, home on the Thursday morning ferry.
The Finale
Looking back at the whole trip, this was a thoroughly enjoyable experience throughout. As interlopers from The Southern Section, we were made extremely welcome by all of the party and were delighted to be able to participate in the routeing and leading of some of the rides.
The GPX files, created and supplied by Paul Fitzgerald of Wild Irish Tours, were very comprehensive and a delight to follow. The overall length of the rides however, were often quite ambitious at times, leaving little time for exploring some of the fascinating places we just passed through. In total, we rode around 2,000 miles in the 12 days, largely without motorways to ease the distance. The scenery was amongst the best we have ever experienced.
The hotels were generally of a good standard although, there were a few concerns expressed about some of them, particularly for those who shared rooms (I’m not referring to Clive’s snoring, Rob).
Our thanks go out to Geoff Clough and Frank Butler for arranging the whole trip and to the Oxford Section for letting us join them.
Bob & Susan Melvin
Wild Irish Rovers Overture and first movement Fishguard to Wexford The choice was difficult from the outset. Full waterproofs, or jeans and lightweight oversuit?
#Atlantic Coast of Ireland#BMW Club Oxford Section#Ring of Kerry#Touring in Ireland#Wild Atlantic Way
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