Friday, March 04, 2022

Withstanding Trials: Day 4

Word Count: 24,118

Summary of Events:
Aodhán fought with Ciarán, despite the fact that he didn't really want to, and managed to win without even attempting to land a single punch, as he wore Ciarán down and then tripped him before Ciarán kicked him in the groin, prompting him to lose his temper and stomp on Ciarán's in return, only to immediately regret doing so and try to apologise, to no avail. At dinner, Aodhán was unsurprised at Ciarán's absence, but felt badly about it, even as Uncle Séaghdha complimented him on his having recovered from Ciarán's milder blow…

Excerpt of the Day:

“I certainly can’t say I’m likely to see a more impressive feat of combat,” Uncle Séaghdha added. “That you should defeat someone without even striking a fist-blow, and I don’t even know that anyone could replicate it. It was a masterful display of defence, footwork, and shrewdness.”

Aodhán leaned back to let his plate be placed before him, and be uncovered to reveal the first part of the meal.

“Ciarán isn’t likely to appreciate what happened for a long time,” Uncle Séaghdha said. “But don’t let that stop you from glorying in your achievement.”

“There is no glory in it,” Aodhán said.

“What?” Uncle Séaghdha asked, dropping his utensils back to the table and staring incredulously.

“There is no glory in it,” Aodhán repeated.

“What are you talking about!?” Ceallach exclaimed.

“As much as Ciarán caused me pain with his final blow, that did not justify my reciprocal blow,” Aodhán replied. “I let my anger get the better of me, and executed the blow with excessive force, as well as vengeance that is not my right to execute.”

Uncle Séaghdha’s mouth hung open, the incredulity only increasing on his face.

“Since I have my doubts Ciarán will be any more inclined to bear my presence than he was earlier, I would ask that you would inform him that I genuinely regret the blow I delivered to him, and that I would ask his forgiveness for the undisciplined action,” Aodhán added. “I do not want him to harbour ill will against me for it, and would like to make right with him personally if he will bear it, but at the present I have little confidence of receiving his hearing, and so I would ask you to apologise to him on my behalf for the time being.”

Slowly Uncle Séaghdha’s jaw started moving; as it picked up speed, his lips started to move with it before eventually his voice stammered several letters until finally it formed words.

“But you did nothing wrong!” he finally exclaimed. “There was nothing about it that was at all excessive. Are you utterly devoid of passion that you would consider your final blow this afternoon to have been excessive?”

“I prefer to keep my passions in subjugation,” Aodhán replied. “What you saw this afternoon was passion getting the bit into its teeth and tearing the reins from my hands.”

“You can’t be serious!” Ceallach exclaimed. “That was completely justified! You had every right to hit him in the seed–”

“Ceallach, we’re at the dinner table,” Uncle Séaghdha interrupted sternly.

“I disagree,” Aodhán said.

“How!?” Ceallach exclaimed. “How can you think that was wrong!?”

“Because it was,” Aodhán replied.

“It really wasn’t,” Uncle Séaghdha said. “But if you believe that it was, then it was.”

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