[When Diarmuid was with Aengus, there never was a too far or too high or too fast. His adopted father was always there to catch him. Even on the night when everything changed, Aengus was there to protect him...
Ah, but that is not a happy memory and the focus now is happy memories. Perhaps some other time there can be talk of the less happy ones.
When the next memory starts, Diarmuid is much older. He is walking toward another man, younger than him by a few years, with wild red-blond hair. As he approaches, he holds up a small box he found on his bed.
"Aren't we a little old for mysterious presents, Oscar?"
"Don't think we ever outgrow giving gifts, my dear hawk. 'Sides," Oscar steps forward from where he has been leaning against a tree, 'you earned this one. A long time ago, actually, but it took me a while to find the right one."
Diarmuid raises an eyebrow at Oscar, but instead of asking more, he just opens the box. Inside is something that makes his breath catch in his throat. It's a torc that has a bird's head on each end.
"Do you know how hard it is to find one of those with birds on it instead of a wolf or boar? But, it had to be a bird for you. Nothing else would work, you know?" Oscar is smiling, though his voice has just a tinge of annoyance to it. It is obvious he didn't mind the search at all.
"Oscar..." Diarmuid finds it hard to put together to tell his friend just how much this means to him. In the end, he pulls the torc out of the box and holds it out. "Help me put it on?"
"Of course," Oscar steps over and takes the torc. Once put on, torcs are not meant to ever be taken off, which is way it is so hard to put them on. However, Oscar slips it onto Diarmuid's neck with very little trouble. It's a sign of how well it was made, of how much effort Oscar went to in order to make sure it was the perfect torc for his mentor, his friend and his partner.
When Oscar starts to step away, Diarmuid reaches out and wraps his arms around the other man's waist, stopping him from going too far, "Thank you, for doing this for me."
Oscar laughs, leaning back in toward Diarmuid, "You are never going to get used to people doing things for you, are you?" However, before Diarmuid can respond, Oscar pulls him into a kiss, one that Diarmuid returns. As the kiss continues, Oscar steps back, eventually pulling them both down so they are sitting at the base of the tree with Diarmuid straddling his lap. Once the kiss ends, Diarmuid laughs and rests his head against Oscar's shoulder. They stay that way for a long time. Neither of them speaking. Instead, they just enjoy the feeling of being with someone who is part of them. Someone who they trust to fight at their back and die next to if it ever came to that.
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Ah, but that is not a happy memory and the focus now is happy memories. Perhaps some other time there can be talk of the less happy ones.
When the next memory starts, Diarmuid is much older. He is walking toward another man, younger than him by a few years, with wild red-blond hair. As he approaches, he holds up a small box he found on his bed.
"Aren't we a little old for mysterious presents, Oscar?"
"Don't think we ever outgrow giving gifts, my dear hawk. 'Sides," Oscar steps forward from where he has been leaning against a tree, 'you earned this one. A long time ago, actually, but it took me a while to find the right one."
Diarmuid raises an eyebrow at Oscar, but instead of asking more, he just opens the box. Inside is something that makes his breath catch in his throat. It's a torc that has a bird's head on each end.
"Do you know how hard it is to find one of those with birds on it instead of a wolf or boar? But, it had to be a bird for you. Nothing else would work, you know?" Oscar is smiling, though his voice has just a tinge of annoyance to it. It is obvious he didn't mind the search at all.
"Oscar..." Diarmuid finds it hard to put together to tell his friend just how much this means to him. In the end, he pulls the torc out of the box and holds it out. "Help me put it on?"
"Of course," Oscar steps over and takes the torc. Once put on, torcs are not meant to ever be taken off, which is way it is so hard to put them on. However, Oscar slips it onto Diarmuid's neck with very little trouble. It's a sign of how well it was made, of how much effort Oscar went to in order to make sure it was the perfect torc for his mentor, his friend and his partner.
When Oscar starts to step away, Diarmuid reaches out and wraps his arms around the other man's waist, stopping him from going too far, "Thank you, for doing this for me."
Oscar laughs, leaning back in toward Diarmuid, "You are never going to get used to people doing things for you, are you?" However, before Diarmuid can respond, Oscar pulls him into a kiss, one that Diarmuid returns. As the kiss continues, Oscar steps back, eventually pulling them both down so they are sitting at the base of the tree with Diarmuid straddling his lap. Once the kiss ends, Diarmuid laughs and rests his head against Oscar's shoulder. They stay that way for a long time. Neither of them speaking. Instead, they just enjoy the feeling of being with someone who is part of them. Someone who they trust to fight at their back and die next to if it ever came to that.
Someone, who is the other half of their soul.]