Merciless (??)

The One Where They Argue A Lot

She always made sure Oisín and I were asleep before she dealt with Cathal. She never laid a finger on him, but her words cut as deep as any knife. Cathal was no different.

At eighteen, he was a man, tall, broad shoulders, sandy hair and stormy grey eyes. According to her, he was the spitting image of our father, but his sharp tongue and short temper was all hers.

And so they argued, battling throughout the night with their insults and foul words, desperate to get the other to see their side. Cathal wanted to leave, thinking he was old enough to go out into the world on his own, and make his own fortune. Our mother wanted him to stay, knowing the real reason he wanted to leave was to join a suspicious group of people, who had been staying in the outskirts of town for the past few months.

She had caught him many a time speaking with them, laughing and drinking with them, being all too friendly with the strangers. They'd never been seen before, and that worried her.

Cathal was planning to leave with the small group in five days, where they'd told him that they were going "home". They asked him to come with him, and he said yes.

I only know this because my mother isn't one to argue quietly, nor is Cathal. As soon as she goes downstairs after checking on us, the words start flying and we're both woken up. Oisín doesn't cry anymore, but he still gets into my bed with his pillow clutched tightly in his hands. We both listen in silence to the other half of our family tearing away at each other mercilessly.

"They're a bunch of fanatics! Dressed in rags, they're bags of bone! And you wan't to be like them? Because what? Because of their opinions? Because of-"

"Because of the unfairness of it all! Have you ever wondered to yourself why they look like they do-"

"They're beggars, Cathal-"

"They're messengers, shedding light on the lies the world's been telling us for years!"

Oisín threw his arms around me, the pillow forgotten. They hadn't sounded this aggressive until now. We leaned away from the floorboards, their voices all but punching through the wood.

"So they're conspiracy theorists? I'm glad, I thought they were maniacs! Lucky for us, they're normal folk-"

"You won't listen to me! If I told you what they told me, you wouldn't be like this-"

"Then tell me, Cathal. Tell me! Tell me what your wonderful new friends have said to you, what amazing and grand thoughts they've filled your head with! Enlighten me, Cathal! It must be some powerful stuff if what they've said has made you want to abandon your family."

Sarcasm dripped from her words like poison, her voice raising until the crescendo ended as she brought her fists down on the table. Her last sentence was almost a whisper, her voice breaking halfway through.

There was silence for a while, broken only by our breathing. We couldn't hear anything from downstairs. I let go of Oisín and slowly got out of bed, kneeling down and pressing my ear to the floor. Oisín stared at me wide-eyed, hugging his pillow once more. He scooted towards the edge of the bed, trying to listen as well.

"...about the stones. They don't have any power. It's in us, all of us. They've shown me. The tests, they're not needed. Mother, they know what happened two hundred years ago. The queen, she's-"

Oisín leaned over even more, straining to hear, and slipped off of the bed, falling with a thunk. The sound stopped Cathal in his tracks, and I could hear the two leaving the kitchen to come usptairs.

"Go, quick!" I hissed, helping him stand and all but shoving him onto his own bed, still holding his pillow. I jumped into my own bed, throwing the blanket over me in an effort to appear asleep. Cathal opened the door, warm light flooding into the room.

"What happened?" he asked, moving towards us. I rolled over with a yawn, rubbing my eyes.

"Hmm?" I murmured sleepily. Oisín, however, did not know how to act. He was sitting bolt upright, eyes wide with fear, pillow once again in his arms.

"Is everything alright, son?" Mother swept across the room to his bed, kneeling down beside him. He didn't say anything.

"Did you have a bad dream, Ois?" Cathal tilted his head to one side, passing my bed as well. Oisín froze, then slowly nodded his head, relaxing slightly but still on edge.

Their voices were so quiet, a far cry from earlier. Now it was all softness and honeyed tones, meant to relax and reassure. Oisín was more afraid of the sudden change than of almost being caught eavesdropping. The fear in his eyes was plain to see.

"Do you want to sleep with me?" Mother asked, going to rub his cheek. Oisín ducked his head to avoid the caress, her hand stopping in surprise. He shook his head, eyes on the floor.

"C'mere Ois, I'll move over" I grunted, shifting to the far side of the bed, near the door. Oisín scrambled out of bed and dove under the covers, squeezing my arm in thanks. Mother looked like she'd been slapped across the face. She cleared her throat.

"Sleep well, you two", she said quickly, standing up and brushing nonexistent dust from her dress.

"I'll see you two in the morning", Cathal smiled. 

The two left, closing the door behind them. Darkness once again surrounded us. Oisín looked up at me, his face barely visible in the lack of light.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "for falling."

"You're fine, it's okay" I whispered back, "Just try and get some sleep now, alright?" He nodded, and snuggled closer to me. I sighed quietly and wrapped my arms around him, hoping he wouldn't have any nightmares.

I closed my eyes, but it would be another hour before I finally fell asleep, Cathal's words swirling around in my mind.