![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Gilgarra Mountain slashfic. AKA, the story I'll never show my husband 'cause he'd have a stroke. (Really, this is just a little vignette, rated PG at most - something I picture in my head almost every time I hear Peter, Paul & Mary's version of "Gilgarra Mountain". I think it's because when Peter Yarrow sings the line, "I'd like to find my brother, the one who's in the army...I swear he'll treat me fairer than my darlin', sportin' Jenny," it always strikes me as so sad and wistful and not like someone looking for his actual brother. Then again, I'm weird sometimes. *g* And now that the backstory is longer than the vignette, here it is:
Once, I'd have thought to be ashamed, weeping like a woman - about a woman - in another man's arms, but I was not. I felt nothing but grief and anger, and they ran out of me as the tears ran down my face.
When I was finally silent, wiping my eyes, Brian gripped my shoulder, holding me at arm's length, and asked, "What brings you here, then, and in such a state?"
I choked on her name as I said it: "Jenny."
Brian's eyes burned in his face and the dangerous edge I remembered well was in his voice. "Dead? Was it a natural death or - " He gripped the hilt of his sword. "We can avenge her death together."
I shook my head. "No, not dead. If she were but dead, I wouldn't grieve so. No, she - " and I choked again on the bitter words, but soon I told my story.
When I finished, I felt empty but Brian looked more dangerous than before and his voice shook with rage. "We'll go together," he said, "and hunt her down, and her Captain Farrell, and punish them as they deserve."
For a moment, the thought pleased me, but I was weary and didn't wish ever to see Gilgarra again. "No," I said. "Punishment enough for her, having to lie with the English bastard every night for the rest of her life."
Brian opened his mouth as if to protest, then laughed.
"Besides," I continued, "I won't see you hanged for deserting."
"I wouldn't be. I've served my time; next week I'm leaving. I want no place in this English army," and his mouth looked as if he were tasting ash. I'd been lucky to find him, then.
We were silent for a moment, then Brian took me by the arm and drew me to his chamber, where I slept the rest of the day and into the night. When I awoke, Brian was beside me, and we did those things together which we had done as lads running wild in the mountains, those pleasures that even then, we were wise enough not to confess to the priest.
Soon the week was done and we left, heading, without discussion, home to Kilkenny. 'Tis pleasant to spend my days riding where I please and the girls are prettier here than anywhere else - but I won't let any woman betray me again. I dally with the maids but when I go home, it is always to Brian, where the bed is soft, the fire is warm, and there's always whiskey in the jar.
Once, I'd have thought to be ashamed, weeping like a woman - about a woman - in another man's arms, but I was not. I felt nothing but grief and anger, and they ran out of me as the tears ran down my face.
When I was finally silent, wiping my eyes, Brian gripped my shoulder, holding me at arm's length, and asked, "What brings you here, then, and in such a state?"
I choked on her name as I said it: "Jenny."
Brian's eyes burned in his face and the dangerous edge I remembered well was in his voice. "Dead? Was it a natural death or - " He gripped the hilt of his sword. "We can avenge her death together."
I shook my head. "No, not dead. If she were but dead, I wouldn't grieve so. No, she - " and I choked again on the bitter words, but soon I told my story.
When I finished, I felt empty but Brian looked more dangerous than before and his voice shook with rage. "We'll go together," he said, "and hunt her down, and her Captain Farrell, and punish them as they deserve."
For a moment, the thought pleased me, but I was weary and didn't wish ever to see Gilgarra again. "No," I said. "Punishment enough for her, having to lie with the English bastard every night for the rest of her life."
Brian opened his mouth as if to protest, then laughed.
"Besides," I continued, "I won't see you hanged for deserting."
"I wouldn't be. I've served my time; next week I'm leaving. I want no place in this English army," and his mouth looked as if he were tasting ash. I'd been lucky to find him, then.
We were silent for a moment, then Brian took me by the arm and drew me to his chamber, where I slept the rest of the day and into the night. When I awoke, Brian was beside me, and we did those things together which we had done as lads running wild in the mountains, those pleasures that even then, we were wise enough not to confess to the priest.
Soon the week was done and we left, heading, without discussion, home to Kilkenny. 'Tis pleasant to spend my days riding where I please and the girls are prettier here than anywhere else - but I won't let any woman betray me again. I dally with the maids but when I go home, it is always to Brian, where the bed is soft, the fire is warm, and there's always whiskey in the jar.
Tags: