They rode in silence and in heavy rain, Lugh and Nuada. Not because Lugh wanted it to be so, there was so much to say, but because Nuada just would not speak to him, would not listen. For days it had been like this. Dreary, wet and silent. He had awoken in confusion and pain. Realized he had been killed and that the killer was the one who had brought him back to life. Even restored his arm to him. He had wanted to say so much, to ask so many questions but never gotten the chance. Nuada had given him blood to drink from an old cauldron and then from his wrist. But there was no compassion, no interest even from him it seemed to actually have anything to do with Lugh. He had told him to be silent. To dress in the clothes he was given and to follow Nuada. To protect him and be vigilant of danger. Lugh had done so. To weak and confused and disoriented to do much else. Now they were horseback riding in the rain over the hills and dales of Eire. He had no idea why. Why not on foot, why not a car? And where were they going? But he could not ask. Every time he tried he was stone walled back into silence. Just like stone Nuada was, silent and indifferent. The only time he got anything from Nuada was when he held out his arm so that Lugh could drink. Held it out so he got just enough in him to continue. Held it out and summoned him like the custom was. Nuada did not even look at him. One could have thought that to drink another's blood in this fashion would be intimate. Lugh had never experienced a more detached feeling then he did when he drank from Nuada. What was this? Why had Nuada brought him back if he hated him so? As revenge for betraying him all those many years ago...? Questions and anger started to build up a pressure inside him, he tried to keep it under control but knew not how long it would last. There was something there, inside him, something not quite right and it helped fuel the pressure that was threatening to brake him apart.
Nuada had never been more confused and torn in his life. And that kind of said a lot. Half the time he cursed himself for bringing Lugh back and asked himself why. The other half he tried to find the right way to talk to him but found no words. He knew he was being unfair to Lugh by refusing to acknowledge he was even there but he did not know how to break the ice. Did not know how to say he was sorry for what he had done and at the same time demand a sorry in return for all the pain Lugh had cost him. Did not know what he felt. Was it joy? Or sorrow? Or... What? He could feel the tension in Lugh building and was not at all surprised when the explosion hit.
Lugh had had enough. Rage, sorrow, confusion, frustration, need, all of it building inside him, creating an unbearable pressure, finally it was too much, he acted, moved without thinking. Threw himself off his horse and at Nuada, grabbing him by the waist trowing both of them to the ground. Landing, rolling, sliding in the mud he made sure to end up on top, holding Nuada down with his knees and hitting, fists to face, hard, harder, with despair needing to get it out, then he stopped. Nuada did not move, did nothing to defend himself, he just lay there and did nothing, said nothing, looking into the distance as rain fell on his face, as blood seeped out of a split lip. "You will speak to me" Lugh growled. "Please, le do thoil" He added in a whisper, then, his voice growing stronger again "I can't bear this silence from you anymore. Why won't you speak to me? Why will you not defend yourself? Why am I here...?"
Nuada only looked away, blinking rain and what might have been a tear out of his eyes, and still he said nothing. He still did not know what to say, where to start. This was so hard. Lugh, Brother, Traitor, unwilling murderer and friend. What could he say?
"Look at me at least... Brother? Listen to me, please" Lugh reached down with his hands again, not to hurt this time but to try to turn Nuadas face so he had to look at him, hands at the sides of his face.
At the word Brother, echoing his own thoughts and the feeling of Lughs hands on his face, Nuada did turn his head. Staring into the now dark, once crystal blue eyes of his long lost best friend and Blood Brother, now so more than ever before. He heard himself say "I am sorry, tá brón orm"
