Anraí MacEibhir

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The more I want to get something done, the less I call it work.
Richard Bach

Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Moses Ibn Ezra, Shirat Yisrael

Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens.
Epictetus (55 AD - 135 AD)

Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

Experience suggests it doesn't matter so much how you got here, as what you do after you arrive.
Lois McMaster Bujold, "Barrayar", 1991

We've all seen the meme: Pick an emotional state and I'll write you a drabble featuring my character and yours. Now here's your chance to pick a situation and and write that drabble with your character flying solo.


Flint Creek Ranch, June 12th, 2009


Cooking!Cait:

Her hands deftly diced potatoes and beat eggs. To help her extremely pregnant sister-in-law, Cait was fixing breakfast for her family and the men who called Flint Creek's bunkhouse home. The stable hands proved to have nearly púca-sized appetites.

Collecting dirty dishes, she found Laine already at the sink. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

Laine rolled her eyes. "Don't you start fussin'. I'm just fii-" Her words cut off in a gasp as she bent over the counter.

Enough of that. "To bed with you. I'll handle this." When she saw Laine stumble on the stairs, Cait touched her medallion. Tadhg...


( More behind the cut ... )


Muse: Anraí, Cait, Tadhg, Rory and Ruairí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse by R.A. MacAvoy
Word count: 500, 100 each

Laine's requests for ways to celebrate her birthday had been simple. A day without having to fool with anything in the kitchen. A nap in the middle of the bed free from both dogs and her husband, nothing but her body pillow and some peace and quiet. It really didn't take much to make his wild woman happy.

Anraí had been quick to comply, cheerfully ignoring the slightly boggled looks that made up the hands' usual reaction when he wound up in the kitchen. If they were smart, they'd pick up some tips, if not ... well, he had other concerns that day. The dinner he produced wasn't overly fancy-- beef stew, green salad, and some fresh-from-the-oven dinner rolls --but it was all made from scratch and with care, as was the apple crunch in the oven.

And, being Anraí, he'd just had to come up with a little something extra in the way of presents. A small wrapped jeweler's box waited by Laine's plate. He'd asked Tadhg if he could come up with something close to the blue of Laine's eyes, and little brother had come through with flying colors. His remaining present wasn't anything tangible, but he hoped she'd like it. In her way, she'd certainly pushed hard enough for it.

He checked the stew. Another half-hour, he could let Laine sleep for that much longer. If she wasn't up by then, he'd go see how she was doing.

If you could force me to write anything, what would it be?

Takes place a couple of days after this post.

"So ... how is she holding up?" Anraí leaned against Tumbling Dice's stall door and watched as Cait stroked Jagger's nose. The gelding's placid acceptance of his sister's attentions had caused plenty of amazed comments from Flint Creek's hands, but right now neither Cait nor Jagger were Anraí's main concern.

"Pippa is coping," Cait replied, not needing to ask whom her brother was asking after. "Yes, she's stressed, and yes she's had some nightmares, but she's coming out of herself." Sighing softly, she gave Jagger a last pat and walked to stand by her oldest brother. "Of course she'd cope even better if she'd stop beating herself up for things that are in no way her fault. Not entirely unlike someone else I could mention." The look she gave him was pointed enough to make him fidget.

Not his fault, no. Not his fault for looking so much like Pippa's abductor that she flinched away from him without meaning to. Not her fault either, but that didn't change the fact that she was hurting. Anraí raked fingers through his dark hair in frustration. "It's not beating myself up, really. It's just ..." He let his words trail off into a sigh of his own.

"You want to make things easier for her, and you don't know how." Cait tucked her hand into his and squeezed. "Believe me, biggest brother, I understand. But you--" Swinging around in front of him, she offered an infectious grin. "--have enough on your plate with getting married. We'll make sure Pippa has a good time at this hen night Margene's cooked up, while you relax with the boys."

Anraí smiled back and dropped a peck onto his little sister's cheek. "When did you get to be so smart, a stor?"

"When you weren't looking, of course," she chuckled. As she headed for the barn door, she looked back over one shoulder. "Are you coming up to the house?"

"In a few minutes. I've got a chore or two to finish down here first."

He could have easily delegated the handful of tasks to any of the men, but Anraí found it easiest to work out nerves by working with his hands. Not that he had the slightest of doubts about marrying Laine, he didn't. But God help him, everything involved with getting to that point ... well, he felt entitled to hang out with the horses for a little while.

He'd just finished fixing the latch on the stall intended for the new Morgan when he heard someone come in through the tack room. Laine? No, not her footstep. His eyes widened as another familiar female voice reached him. Pippa, greeting Shithead the barn cat.

He reacted instinctively, quietly closing the stall door and letting his body shift and flow into his horse form. He didn't want to hide from Pippa, but neither did he want to scare the poor lass by popping up unexpectedly.

Takes place after events in this thread.

Anraí leaned against the porch railing, listening to his younger brother's voice on the other end of the phone connection. "So I don't know if I'm overreacting or not," Rory was saying. "She hasn't been gone that long, and yet I can't help thinking something's wrong. Not only does she just not normally behave like this, I keep remembering that strange conversation she told me she had with someone who looks like you. And you seemed uneasy when you mentioned speaking to him yourself."

Uneasy. Yes. Something about that man had lifted the hairs on the back of his neck, something beyond the strange resemblence. He remembered a smug smirk, an arrogant attitude ... and a pair of very cold hazel eyes. The thought of Rory's Pippa catching the attention of those eyes made his gut tighten.

"Have you called Tadhg?" he asked softly.

"No, I haven't yet. I only called you this soon because of that coincidence ..." Rory trailed off, and he heard a faint hiss of breath. "You don't think I'm overreacting, do you. You don't think it was a coincidence." They weren't questions, exactly.

Anraí spoke slowly, measuring his words. "I think that if there's any doubt at all, you'd better have backup in place sooner rather than later. And if Pippa is in danger, you'll need someone who can track her down quicker than the police." His fingers flexed unconsciously around the rail, making the wood creak slightly. "That someone is our little brother."

A pause lingered for several seconds. "I'll call him," Rory replied at last.

"You do that. And keep me posted as well."

Twilight. Dusk slipped like silk over the granite-strewn field where a cloud-grey stallion waited. Within the stallion's form, Anraí tried to steady the potent brew of anticipation and nervousness ratcheting through him.

Telling his family that he'd gotten engaged when he'd only let slip that he was involved with someone maybe a month previous ... well, the response on all fronts had been an instant and unanimous Dear God you never said can't believe it keeping secrets thought you were up to something WHEN DO WE MEET HER?! A little overwhelming, but heartfelt.

So the púca waited at the chosen place and time, his coat nearly blending in with the stone and the twilight. He'd meet them here, father, brothers and sister, and take them to meet his wife to be.

Rory arrived first, his sleek, steel-grey horse form nearly dancing with excitement. A brief mock-fight between the two stallions ended with them both in man form, Anraí having gotten his younger (and much taller) brother in a headlock. Rory was still insisting that he'd only lost because he didn't drop his duffel bag in time when Da and Caitlín arrived, silvery stallion and pure ebony mare. In short order he was collecting a warm embrace from his father, followed up by Cait jumping on his back, laughing and tossing her ink-black curls.

"Laine's not here?" she asked, looking around after collecting her own hug.

"She's at the house. I'll take you all up as soon as Tadhg arrives." He had no sooner finished speaking then he felt a firm shove in the middle of his back. Turning around, he saw a smug-looking charcoal-colored horse shimmer and melt into an equally smug-looking, dark-haired man. "You were saying?"

And so, after reclaiming the bags (Anraí insisted on taking one of Cait's pair), the slightly-other-than-ordinary family went to meet the woman who would become its newest member.


This is both a JustPrompts response and RP post for rein_it_in, sonofgranite, fey_fire, gifted_hands and a_chaitlin.


Muse: Anraí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse by R.A. MacAvoy
Prompt: 2008/07/03-13, Family
Word count: 326