Tag: claire beauchamp

scinnlaece:

When I was small, I never wanted to step in puddles. Not because of any
fear of drowned worms or wet stockings; I was by and large a grubby child,
with a blissful disregard for filth of any kind.

It was because I couldn’t bring myself to believe that that perfect smooth
expanse was no more than a thin film of water over solid earth. I believed
it was an opening into some fathomless space. Sometimes, seeing the tiny
ripples caused by my approach, I thought the puddle impossibly deep, a
bottomless sea in which the lazy coil of tentacle and gleam of scale lay
hidden, with the threat of huge bodies and sharp teeth adrift and silent in
the far-down depths

clairvoyantsam:

“You can’t,” I whispered. “You can’t. I won’t let you.”

His mouth was warm against my ear. “Claire, I’m to hang in the morning. What happens to me between now and then doesna matter to anyone.” I drew back and stared at him.

“It matters to me!” The strained lips quivered in what was almost a smile, and he raised his free hand and laid it against my wet cheek.

“I know it does, mo duinne. And that’s why you’ll go now. So I’ll know there is someone still who minds for me.” He drew me close again, kissed me gently and whispered in Gaelic, “He will let you go because he thinks you are helpless. I know you are not.” Releasing me, he said in English, “I love you. Go now.”