Withstanding Trials: Day 1

Word Count: 6,023

Summary of Events:

Aodhán arrived at Inis Neamhaí, and was taken swiftly to the home of his uncle and aunt, despite the fact that his arrival was earlier than expected, thus his uncle was out on a hunt, leaving only his aunt and her four still-unmarried daughters to greet him, not that Aodhán was offended. Saraid and several others worked on harvesting carrots that they'd planted discreetly in the woods to keep them from being destroyed when those who didn't want Aloneists on their island came around to give them a rough time. Aodhán was woken from a nap by a commotion in the corridor which he quickly discovered was one of his cousins fighting with another boy; when Aodhán intervened to protect the other boy, whom his cousin was kicking with his boots and jabbing with his spurs, his cousin, not recognising him, attacked him…

Excerpt of the Day:

Ciarán charged at Aodhán, flinging his fists wildly, some of them actually striking his friends, who quickly backed out of the way of his flailing fists and cheered loudly.

Aodhán flinched slightly at the blows which managed to actually hit him as Ciarán swung rather more wildly than he’d been swinging at the boy he’d wounded on the floor. He apparently was in a bout with a boy four years his junior and over a head shorter than him whether he wanted to be or not.

Blocking one of Ciarán’s blows with his forearm, he used it to also push Ciarán a couple steps back, while rapidly unbuttoning his coat with his other hand. Once it was unbuttoned, he shrugged it off his shoulders and followed suit with his waistcoat and his shirt so that he wouldn’t damage any of them by straining their seams, which weren’t constructed to withstand engaging in a bout of fisticuffs.

Just as bared to the waist as Ciarán was, Aodhán put both his arms up in a defensive position against the wild blows. Seeing as he wasn’t interested in fighting, and didn’t really need to, considering the haphazard nature of the onslaught he was facing, Aodhán didn’t get in the punches he could’ve, as Ciarán wasn’t defending himself whatsoever.

Eventually, however, Ciarán’s blows became less wild and haphazard, although they still weren’t particularly challenging blows that in any way beat Aodhán back. They still seemed very basic and predictable blows, so Aodhán continued to simply defend, using his forearms and stepping to steer Ciarán around on occasion, wondering to himself as he did who Uncle Séaghdha had employed to teach his sons fighting, because whoever the person was wasn’t a terribly skilled fighter, or was making slower progress than Aodhán had expected, as he was sure he could’ve fought better four years ago, when he’d been Ciarán’s age than Ciarán was fighting now.

The crowd around them was cheering just as much as it’d been cheering Ciarán’s bout against his opponent whom Aodhán hoped had been able to make an escape to get his wounds tended to, despite the fact that he’d never cried out for mercy, which had apparently been what was required to end the bout.

As a result of Ciarán’s having shifted to a proper sparring-type of combat, Aodhán began to feel that his forearms were getting sore from all the blocks he was doing, but he didn’t feel the need to throw his fists, in fact, he felt like it was probably better if he didn’t, as he could see the sweat glistening on Ciarán’s skin in the light of the candles in the sconces that lined the corridor, as well as that Ciarán’s sides were heaving.

His steps, and his blows, were becoming sluggish. Engaging in a second heated battle, on his part, so soon after the first was clearly taking its toll on Ciarán, thus if Aodhán were to punch him in the face, he could well knock his cousin to the floor as easily as Ciarán had knocked his previous opponent to the floor.

Pronunciation:

Ciarán: keeraun