Love, Give Me Redemption

The sound of his voice when he spoke of his Ireland...
It was magic laced in words.
The stories he weaved with his tongue were imaginative. Tales of knights, of fair red-headed maids dancing in the days of celebration, of the fiddle and drums buoyant in the fresh morn, of the Fae Queen and her court. The castles housing honorary men or of battles between ravishing uncles and enemies.

Pillaging. Plundering. Valor. Gallantry.

He spoke of them all.
Enchanting in his sweet lilt of an Irish accent.
I had come to the conclusion in those fine nights listening to my Grandda's stories as I sat at the hearth before a raging fire, as we waited for the dinner meal that my grandma cooked with love and devotion, that one day I will marry a man like my dear Grandda.
How wrong I would be.

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"...And when you had finally reached the top of the battlements after those disastrous stone stairs, there lays the Stone of Eloquence," Liam O' Malley said with a sweeping movement with his hand and his eyes widening in excitement. "Legends say that, for your efforts of climbing, if you kiss the stone, it will bestow a gift to you." Liam smiled warmly and tweaked the nose of a eight-year-old Rory with his pointing finger.

Rory giggled and looked up at him in awe. "Really, Grandda? A gift?"

"Well, of course, Rory! How do you think politicians in this country are so well with words they lie with promises of improving and make us fools vote for them. Because they kissed the stone." He nodded once, happy about the way he explained it.

Rory laughed. "It sounds much like King Arthur, Grandda."

"Yes, Rory." Liam smiled proudly. "And no lass deserves the gift better than you, my child. Someday you will climb those stairs to the battlements of Blarney Castle and kiss the stone to gain the gift."

He leaned back in his favorite armchair as he gazed into the flames of the fire with a dreamy expression glazing his face and green eyes.

"Ireland is full of magic, lassie, soon you will discover it." He raised his eyebrows and looked at her from the corners of his wrinkled eyelids. "You and I will go...together."

He pursed his lips to the side of his mouth and seemed to be thoughtful. "Ah, and the lands of Scotland also seem to be fair but none as fairer than Ireland. Ireland is much better." Liam grinned at his granddaughter, her green eyes so much like his own. "Yes, Rory. You and I will go and climb the castle walls if need be."

Rory grinned.

"Stop telling the girl stories, Liam. Her head is full of them," Rowan, Liam's wife, chided as she swept into the room hitting him softly in the arm with a rag. Her softly thick Irish accent was like a lullaby to Rory. "Instead make yourself useful and fix the boiler. My toes freeze in the night, old man."

Liam huffed and grumbled below his breath to hide his inability to fix it. Rory giggled when Rowan winked at her.

"Go and make dinner, Rowan. At least try to make it," Liam joked. Rowan swapped the laughing man.

"Where do babies come from?" Rory interrupted, staring at them with wide, round eyes pure of innocence.

Liam and Rowan stared at her, astonished and more than a bit flabbergasted.

"This girl gets more like you, Liam." Rowan shook her head. "Impertinent child," she said dryly as she walked back to the kitchen, mumbling.

Liam grinned down at Rory. "No need for the Stone of Eloquence, dear."

Rory laughed as he ruffled her hair.

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.14 Years Later.

"Flight Continental 696; Boston to Dublin, Ireland, now boarding." The voice of a coolly female echoed throughout the terminal.

Well, that's the flight, I thought wryly.

"Okay, Grandda Liam," I sighed dreamily. "From Williams, Oregon to Boston, Massachusetts to, at last! Dublin, Ireland. Guess we're fulfilling the promise."

I looked to my right.

Nobody there.

"I mean, I'm fulfilling the promise you made," I said sadly to myself.

Grandda Liam...I miss you, you old man, I blew out a breath gustily.

That old man, like a father to me since my parents died a long time ago, had passed away last winter. His bones turned brittle before my eyes, and his skin turned pallid yellow and dry like the pieces of parchment. Leaving Grandma Rowan and I to fend for ourselves.

I had just finished college, graduating with a Bachelor's Degree as a History geek, and was going to finally go back to that house in the woods of Williams. To only hear the news that Grandda developed old age.

I knew it will happen eventually but I always viewed him as so potently strong he could conquer time and age. He said Irish could outlive it. Unfortunately, I believed that until an embarrassing day in Anatomy class. Humiliating.

"Stupid archaic geezer," I mumbled prissily. I'm keeping part of the bargain. And where is he?

Somewhere, I suppose.

The lady in the intercom was announcing once more that the flight to Dublin, Ireland was now boarding. Again. I'm going, darn it.

I sighed as I stood up from the torture device called a chair and rolled the kinks away from my neck and shoulders. I hefted the bulging backpack, the only carry-on I was taking, unto my back.

"Okay, you sour macabre of a dead man, I'm going to Ireland," I said to no one in particular as I tried to quench the overwhelming happiness bubbling in my stomach. I also knew if Grandda Liam was alive and heard me say those words to him, my poor head would be cuffed as he would laugh in agreement.

The woman to my left glanced at me strangely as I made my way into the thinning line boarding the Continental Flight 696.

I smiled nicely. "My Grandda Liam. He's deceased, ma'am. Apparently, as I would know, he's too nosy to flaunter up to the sky," I explained with a nod.

Her prim mouth opened into an O shape as she nodded along with me.

As I gave my boarding pass to the coolly stone-faced boarding person, I dipped my head low to hide my smug smile.

Grandda wasn't the only one who could think wittily.