Embarrassing or What (Niamh/Open)

[Niamh Dunlevy]

Niamh watched quietly as Stephen's mother approached, waving slightly at the woman in greeting with a small smile on her face. The woman's tone instantly reminded Niamh of the tone she had used earlier on him; it made her mentally flinch. She made a note to not try her little "inspirational speech" again...with anybody. Ever.

"Come," said Stephen, heading up a dark staircase and looking back to see if Niamh was coming. The Pavee nodded, but made sure to stop by Stephen's mother for a moment.

"T'ank you," said Niamh. "I appreciathe you letthin' me sthay here."

Her riding boots clanking across the floor as she moved, the girl went up the stairs, following Stephen closely. There was nothing special about the hallway - sure, there were a few pictures here and there of the family, la-dee-da-dee-da - but when the Pavee got to Stephen's room, she gawked.

The room was filled with pictures of horses.

There were small ponies and big draft horses, a younger-looking Stephen beside some of them, fields and fences of every kind. It was so much like the Pavee's old home in Ireland...her father had a picture of nearly every horse he had or once had. Niamh took a moment to look at them, awestruck; one picture in particular held her attention.

It was a bay, much like her beloved Drummer, although it wasn't a draft horse and it lacked the tobiano markings and facial blaze. Its attention was elsewhere, ears pricked as it listened to some unknown sound, the picture placed in a way that made it the pride of the room's collection. With her gaze held by it, the Pavee hardly paid attention to Stephen, who had changed shirts and was now glancing over at her.

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen had now taken off his trousers and was slipping on some lightly ones. He put his army uniform neatly on a chair and then looked around once more at Niamh who was standing looking at all the photos of the horses that were scattered around the room on the walls, everywhere really.

He saw her looking at the picture that was Stephen’s pride a joy, the frame was a bit tattered as Stephen had carried it everywhere with him and still did. ”That’s Joey.” Stephen said, rolling up his sleeves and looking down at the picture, ”Father brought him at auction when he was on the drunk side, as a little foal and I raised him up.” he picked the photo up and stared at it, ”Now, he’s gone and I dunno where.” he set the photo back down and looked around.

”You may have to sleep in the spare room.” he said, trooping out of the room and down the corridor to a little room just next to his parents, he opened the door, it was a tiny little space with a bed in one corner, it was dark so Stephen switched a light on quickly, lighting up the room by only a little. ”It’s not much.” he shouted back at her, looking at the room and leaving the door open as he walked back to his bedroom and sat on the bed, staring around his room, not sure what to say to the girl now that she was in his house.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

”That’s Joey. Father brought him at auction when he was on the drunk side, as a little foal and I raised him up.”

"Really? I did t'e same wit' Drum," the girl said, walking over to Stephen with a smile on her face, mismatched eyes focusing in on the picture. "He's a beauth, Sthephen. Real good sthock. Doesn'th look like a drafth, like Fat'er works wit' - whath's his breed?"

The horse was magnificent-looking, although in the back of her mind, Niamh sincerely doubted the horse would look as healthy now that it was out on the front lines. Flying shrapnel, rough handling, filthy conditions and loud noises were all rough on horses; in fact, Niamh's father told her of a time when he had worked with a draft horse that had been in the Great War. The poor thing was easily spooked, and had nearly gone lame in its back feet, the hooves ridden with thrush. Although the creature had been nursed back to health, it had never been the same, always uneasy around even the smallest of noises and prone to fits of panic.

Niamh's mind suddenly began to whirl.

Her father had friends in the horse market, some working with soldiers on the front lines. If she could give him a description - better yet, a picture - of Joey, he might be able to find the horse. If Joey was sick or injured, then Fionn Dunlevy would be more then willing to help a friend of his daughter's. It was perfect. It could work.

"Say, Sthephen," the girl began, "d'you have a picthure I could borrow - if t'at's okay wit' you, o' course - of dear Joey?"

[Stephen Colly]

Stephen had been staring at the pictures, his mind had been wondering to other places, places that he never wanted to go to again, she started to speak to him and he looked over to see her now walking over to him with a smile. ”He’s a hunter, part thoroughbred, part draft. Or he was a hunter.” Stephen muttered ”Your father works with horses? That’s interesting, what’s he do?” he asked her, moving up so that she could sit down next to him on the small bed.

Silence erupted between them and Stephen just stared into the distance, thinking about Joey, he loved Joey and he knew that Joey had loved him, they had had a special bond between each other, it had been lovely before the war but now everything had changed, people and animals had changed, life had changed for both him and his horse.

"Say, Sthephen d'you have a picthure I could borrow - if t'at's okay wit' you, o' course - of dear Joey?"

Stephen looked over at her frowning, ”Yeah, suppose if you really want one.” he said, wondering why she wanted a photo of a horse she had never and probably would never meet. He stood up and took off one of the photos from the wall, it was of the horse standing beside a plough, all ready to be tacked up and to go to work in the fields, it was one of the last photos that Stephen had of his beloved horse before he had gone off, this one had been taken a couple of weeks before that fateful day.

”Here, don’t see what you want with it though.” he said, handing it to her and walking towards the basin that was in his room, washing his face and staring at his reflection in the mirror, seeing her out of the corner of his eye.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Thrains 'em. T'e Dunlevys have thrained horses fer a long, long thime."

A brief moment of silence passed between the two, in which Niamh's plan worked itself out in her head. Stephen answered her question, saying that she could but he didn't know why, and went over and pulled a picture off the wall. Joey had been all tacked up, ready to work the fields, looking beautiful and strong in all that ploughing gear.

Her expression softening, the girl nodded, slipping the picture out from its place in the frame. She rolled it up delicately and placed it in her jacket pocket, then looked back at Stephen with a twinkle in her eye.

"You're in luck, Sthephen," Niamh began. "Fat'er has loths of friends in t'e horse marketh, fro' here all t'e way to the sout'ern corners o' France. I'lla see whath I can do, and if we find Joey, Fat'er will be happy t'buy him for ya. He makes a career outh of findin' and fixin' up horses."

The Pavee went over to Stephen, placing a hand on the boy-soldier's shoulder and squeezing it gently.

"Consider it a gifthie," the woman said with a smile, "from a friend."

[Stephen Colly]

He flinched as she raised a hand and placed it on his shoulder, squeezing it, her words sunk in and he gave a light smile. ”Thanks.” he said, turning to her and smiling. ”That’s really kind of ya…” he didn’t really know what to say and he knew that she was being kind, at the back of his mind he had a horrid feeling, that how ever much she tried, her father may never find Joey, as his father had said “how can you find one horse in the middle of a war when there are thousands being shipped around every day.” It was true, how could one person or maybe a few more than one person find one horse…she was being kind and helpful.

His eyes grew said and tears sprung up, he glanced at the window and walked over to it, staring out. It was now pitch black; the stairs and moon made the ground have deadly shadows all over, like ghosts watching the house.
It was getting pretty late, for Stephen anyway, he would have to get up early to pack, he would be shipped off back to the base in a day and a half, maybe even shorter, you could never tell with the army. He looked back at Niamh.

”I better be getting to sleep.” he muttered, coming over to her and taking the empty picture frame, putting it on a pile of books by his bed side table, ”If you really wanted you could stay in here? It’s really up to you what you want.” he began to hear the first few drops of rain pouring down; he sat down on the bed, watching her, waiting for her decision.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Nah, s'your room. You deserve tho sleep in ith, whath wit' you bein' a soldier an' all. I'm justh a guesth."

Niamh walked over to her new friend, and leaned down. A finger rose to wipe the tears from his eyes, and she gave him a small hug, standing back up straight afterwards.

"An' don'th you worry. I may be justh a Gypsy tho everyone, buth if I puth my mind t'somet'ing, it usually geths done. Fat'er is a good man; he'll help me an' m'friends if I justh ask. You goth me on your side now, Sthephen; consider ith paymenth fer helpin' a fellow rider outh."

The Pavee turned on her heel, walking towards the door to Stephen's room."

"G'nighth, Sthephen. I'll see ya in the mornin'."


++++


Despite what may others might have thought, the guest room's bed was soft, if not a little squishy in some spots. After removing her scarf, boots, gloves and coat, hanging them up on a rack by the door, Niamh settled into the mattress. It had been nearly two years since she had slept on anything other then grass and dirt.

Poor t'ing, the woman thought to herself as she lay beneath the sheets, listening to the pouring rain outside. He's all messed up. T'at mangled eejith, whackin' his kid 'round like a sthick...Fat'er would kick t'at bloke's head in fasther then Drum would!

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OOC - You want to close this soon?

[Stephen Colly]

”Alright, well if you are sure.” he said as she told him that it was his room and he should sleep in it, and that she was the guest. Her finger suddenly appeared on his face and started to wipe the tears away from his eyes, she then hugged him, and Stephen flinched but calmed down after a few seconds as the hug hadn’t been very long after all.

”Yeah, alright see you in the morning, good night.” he watched as she walked off to the bedroom, he bloody well hoped his father wouldn’t be home tonight, he would hate it if he would walk in to Niamh asleep in his house, drunken idiot.

He got into bed slowly, lying down onto the pillow and shutting his eyes, listening to the rain outside, he could hear his mother tidying up downstairs and locking the front door, he heard her soft footfalls up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door. Father won’t be home tonight, that was good…

OOC – Shall we continue into the morning until Niamh leaves?

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post

The following CP has been issued:

Colly - 9CP

Dunlevy - 8CP

-JT