New Fiction #11

Taking place in NF #5 & #7's timeline, it deals with a different caste of characters originating from Britannia, Caledonia and a Dane. All hail Odin the AllFather! The name:  Bláán Ceanntighern Dabhaidh, is a Scottish Gaelic reference to Doctor Who. How good is your Scott's Gaelic? That being said, Bláán is a very fun character to write and I want to do more with him since he's so underestimated.

Bláán hid behind the oak snickering behind his bony fingers as Oilbhreis called his name, "you'll never find me," he whispered to himself as he raced between the trees. He gave a howl, rearing his head back, "nine fades, hour strikes ten, and the fun we have begins again. Come find me." He called out to his old friend. 
Oilbhreis shook his head, looking back to his two companions, "Bláán is a bit of a mad man, you see, we're all games in his head." 
Alexandria scoffed lightly, her father was often called a mad man but he was not, he was brilliant, he was without hesitation and he did whatever it was that needed to be done. "We're not chasing a mad-" Tanner began to spew only to be cut off to Alexandria who gave consent to the chase.
She was the youngest child of her mother's, she awaited the day when she would have a sibling younger than herself but it never happened, she would gladly chase the man in childish fun.
Alexandria darted out ahead of the other men as she hid behind every old tree, calling to Bláán that his time of hiding was up. 
"Oh its just begun, flower that drifted over the loch." He mused to himself as he jogged in place before strolling towards her, drawing his clay more, "brilliant! A girl comes to play with Bláán Ceanntighern Dabhaidh more commonly referred as the Mad Man of Gorm Loch."
Alexandria also stood out from the shadow of her hiding place, seeing the blade of his sword reflected in the silver light of the moon, she grasped the handle of her gladius. Bláán dropped his sword to run straight towards her, his thin arms wrapped around her body in a tight grasp, "I'm so happy to see you!"
Alexandria stumbled back a bit from impact, she could feel the thin muscles bulge a little as he kept the embrace. "Do I know you?" She asked, confused, had they met before?
He pulled back so she could see a face fitting of his small frame, his wild hair rested in all directions across his forehead, his wide eyes wild and estranged looking but Alexandria felt a sort of comfort emanating from its depth. The man wasn't mad, a bit peculiar maybe but beyond that-
"No!" He answered with a smile, looking behind her to his former friend and enemy.
"You're a genius," Alexandria's breath caught in her throat, her words heard only by the two of them.
Bláán leaned back to examine the figure whom's arms he held on to, "no more." He gave a quick wink that could have been an involuntary eye twitch as he turned his head to give a loud cough, "bird feathers, when hiding in trees, always fall on my head, gives me a sneeze." He looked up at Oilbhreis, "well isn't it ceann dearg, or is it dearg amadan? Who let you out of your prison cell below the hill?"
Oilbhreis inhaled a deep breath, he'd accept the mad man's insults, it wasn't all that hurtful anyway. "You're holding her."

It was easier to see him in the bright candles of Eachann's home where they all sat down to eat game that was hunted yesterday. Eachann wasn't happy of the extra house guest. He didn't know the skinny man sitting as his table, his bare hands gripping the bone of the rabbit as he ate ravenously. Oilbhreis placed a pint next to his hand, taking a seat before the insane one. "When's the last time you've ate, Bláán?" The bigger Scotsman asked gently.
Bláán took a swig of the ale in the pint, "never thought you'd be the one feeding me, ceann dearg, not after what you did to me."
Oilbhreis took in a breath in an attempt to explain the betrayal that happened between them, the skinny man responded by pounding his fist against the rugged table causing Eachann to curse out at him. "It was me! It was mine, I am the heir to the clan!" 
Oilbhreis stood trying to defend his actions that saw to the removal of the rightful heir of the Lowlands. "It was my grandfather's father's father," he paused calming down a moment, "another father, maybe a mother or daughter's father that fought against the fucking Romans when they put up that wall. We first defended against the English when they were abandoned by the Romans. My clan, not yours!"
Tanner stood close to Alexandria, translating every word for her. 
His exposed chest rose and fell in quick paces before he calmed himself once more, running his hand through his short hair. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Why you've come looking for me ye redheaded bastard?" He asked in humor as he regained his seat.
"I shouldn't have ousted your birthright Bláán, you are the heir of the Lowlands. Englishmen, have come, taken our home. Imprisoned me. The worst of us has join them, moved by English copper and whores-"
"Whores certainly sound nice, I've always enjoyed the little frills they wear, wonder if I might look decent in one. Not the dresses, the shirts, real men wear kilts." And his was looking a little shabby and a bit dirty.
Oilbhreis learned long ago to ignore his small little rants about anything. He opened his mouth to continued by the smaller man only continued.
"I know. You wouldn't believe what a mad man sees. If you hadn't gotten my kinsmen to turn on me, I would have been the one imprisioned or dead. I should thank you. I should.....but I won't. This mad man makes no apologies."
"I'm not looking for one, Bláán. Together we can take it all back but we need to collect all the Lowlands men and clans. You were the hero once, won't you like to be one again?"
Bláán with clarity present in his brown eyes examined the faces of the people whom he did not know. The young Scot, the Englishman and the drifter. What was their part in the this war? He squinted his eyes before slurping down the rest of the ale. "Should have been whiskey," he let out a belch as he turned the pint upside down to twirl it where the opening faced Oilbhreis, a man of such power that he convinced another clan to dispose of its rightful leader.
"Look at this pint. Cheaply made, no real passion for its drink, most likely came from England. It appears empty because I drank that hog's piss you passed off as ale. It's dark inside the pint, empty but your eyes lie to you. There's so much more inside of it, so much that you can't see and that is what's important, all that's even been important. You ask me to be the man I was before I was broken by your own hands and others I once called kin. I lost, am dark and empty but in that emptiness I was finally able to see what others cannot gain. A man who can't save himself can be no hero, I consort with Sidhe and Brownies, they tell me of pans from another world playing on their flutes, drinking wine of grapes they crush with their feet. I learned of the world and traveled through time, why would I want war?"
"Mad man!" Eachann cursed, tired of listening to his rambling. Alexandria however didn't think so, she watched the man carefully. 
"Enough of his ranting, he's no help to them or you, Alexandria. Let's move on." Tanner tried to convince her. 
He snapped his fingers, pointing a prickly finger at Eachann, demanding a place to sleep. Come morning, I'll return to the forests. I won't have this participation without council of the elves..or is the muse?" He shrugged.
Alexandria suppressed her shiver...
Eachann grumbled under his breath but secured places for his unwanted guests to sleep. Unfortunately the barbarians refused to help Alexandria unless she helped them first. She didn't want to be caught in their civil war but she would at least pretend to help or care.
Bláán woke before them, taking what he needed from Eachann's stores to take away to his council of elves. 

The rest of them woke to Eachann's loud voice booming, raging because the mad one stole his drink and some of the meat he had stored. "The man lives outside like old Saxons, you can't tell me he doesn't have his own meat!"
Oilbhreis apologized for the man's theft, he offered to help hunt to restock his wares. With his own clan's home under siege from the English, he was relying on the young man to shelter him. 
"I hate to say it, he's a lost cause, and he was a great man once before the madness twisted him. I think it's time to consult his usurper, Amhlaibh." 

Bláán set the supplies down on the wooden porch, "doctor!" he called for the only person kind enough to have let him stay and live. The doctor had taken great care of him, had told him secrets of the world and of other lands and islands, of Gods and Goddesses that laid beyond his own green Lowlands.   "I've got some ale, tastes like a sheep's piss but its better than nothing. Prefer whiskey though. Next time, I'll get some whiskey."
He waited outside the open door, it was always opened to those in need, when it was closed, he took it as a sign to go away but he would not enter until the doctor told him it was okay for him to enter. 
"I got meat too, though I'm not if this counts as meat. I think it might be a calf's balls. Do balls count as meat?" He lowered a hand to grab hold of himself before letting go as the owner came forward to sit beside him. 
"I call upon you for council." He waited for the doctor whom he affectionately called an elf to sit beside him, he poured the ale into the cups. "The man who ruined my life wants me to help combat the English. This is my land, I love this land but I've been outcast-ed long ago. What do you think I should do? You show me the world, ye teach me things, what have they've done? Abandoned me, marked me as mad."