Chapter Text
Look. Mountains reach for the skies, and the wind whips the clouds to ribbons. A deep loch shines inky-black from this height, and an osprey glides above it, a spot of white and grey wheeling on the air currents. This place is wild and untamed, uncaring, full of tricks and twists that you’d best memorise if you want to ever leave in one piece. This is Ireland, and this is where our story begins.
Watch as two riders pick carefully along one of the tracks, the wind tugging at their horses’ tails. They ride close enough for their knees to touch, and one of them laughs as the other’s mount tosses his head, dancing sideways, eager to run. His rider soothes him with a gentle touch, and they continue carefully along their path, out onto a flat plain nestled among the hills, flanked by dark cliffs.
The effect of open space is electric, and the horses leap forward, fast hooves and strong legs devouring the ground. The riders’ hair – one gold, one copper – streams out behind them, and the gold laughs as she urges her horse faster, faster. Her voice spirals into the wind as she calls to her companion, and the copper redoubles their efforts, their horse snorting and pulling at the reins as he begins to catch up. He draws closer, closer, close enough to touch the golden-haired rider’s mount, and gallops past, and his rider whoops with triumph as they leave the gold struggling to keep up.
The riders begin to close on the loch, and drop their horses back to a canter, then a trot, then, finally, a walk. Their mounts snort and hang their heads, sated after their run, and drink deep from the loch’s edge.
The riders dismount. The gold is Niamh, decisive and headstrong; the copper, Viv, gentle and loyal. And it is with them that our story is concerned.
“I think you’d better accept,” Viv said, “that you’ll never beat me and River. Not on the flat, in any case.”
“Maybe if you spent more time looking where you were going and less concentrating on your speed, you could beat Zach in the arena,” Niamh suggested, giving the gelding a pat. He nickered softly, and returned to his drink.
“We do fine in there. Being out here is what matters,” Viv said, seating themself on a flat boulder.
Niamh smiled. “I’ll agree with you there.”
Niamh leant down to kiss them, and Viv returned it, long and sweet. “You haven’t wanted to come out here for ages. I’ve been getting lonely.”
Niamh rolled her eyes. “Three weeks. I was gone three weeks.”
“Felt like a lifetime to me,” Viv said, leaning against her as Niamh sat.
Niamh kissed the top of their head, her breath warm on their hair. “You’ve always had a flair for exaggeration.” She sighed happily and sat back, pushing Viv’s head to her lap. “I missed it here. I missed you.” She played idly with a strand of Viv’s hair, separating it, twisting it, and Viv leaned against her loving touch.
“We should go the other side of the peaks next week. Take a picnic, make a day of it. I’m sure I can persuade my dad to give me the day off. I told him we’d be going to Dublin again this year, for Pride,” they added.
“Good.” Niamh began to braid the strand, her fingers swift and neat. “I told my parents too. They’re pleased. More than I expected, really. But Mum was pleased to see me ‘finally being myself’.”
Viv laughed softly. “You’d best watch out, love, or she’ll be planning our wedding.” They paused for a moment, gazing at the sky. “Osprey’s out, look.”
Niamh glanced upward and smiled. “Well-spotted.” She tucked the finished braid behind Viv’s ear, her fingers trailing down their cheek, and bent to kiss them again.
Viv shifted a little as they broke apart. “Speaking of being ourselves, did you have a chance-“
“Do you have to do this now?” Niamh asked, squeezing Viv’s hand. “We just got here.”
“Niamh. Please,” Viv insisted. “Three weeks, no calls, no messages. It was like you dropped off the face of the earth.”
“You want to know how I feel?” Niamh said.
Viv sat up to face her. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
“Then the truth is that… I don’t know how I feel, Viv. I… I want-“ Niamh swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t know what I want. For this to go back to normal, I guess.”
“This is normal,” Viv said slowly. “Niamh, this is my normal.”
“Is it? This whole non-binary thing?” She sighed and looked away. “I did some reading, Viv, and it’s- it doesn’t make any sense to me!”
“What about it doesn’t make sense?” Viv asked, trepidation creeping cold fingers up their spine.
“Well, for a start, the whole ‘they’ thing,” Niamh said. She got off the rock and began pacing back and forth. “You’re not multiple people, Viv.”
“It’s neutral,” Viv said slowly.
“It’s stupid,” Niamh replied. “You’re ‘she’, you’ve always been a ‘she.”
“Well maybe I don’t want to be anymore,” Viv shot back, tears pricking their eyes. “Niamh, you of all people know how hard it was growing up here. It wasn’t until I went to Edinburgh that I knew there was another option.”
“You want to feel special, I get that,” Niamh said. “You always have. And you are special, Viv. You are the brightest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and I love you for it. But this isn’t… it isn’t right.”
Viv felt their breath knocked out of them, like a punch to the gut. “It isn’t right?”
Niamh sighed, exasperated. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.”
“What, I’m supposed to have the right words for this, am I? I’m supposed to know what to say when my girlfriend doesn’t even think she’s a girl anymore?” She paused, panting. “Vivienne, I love you. But I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“Just listen,” Viv said, taking her hand. “Sit back down with me and I’ll try and explain.” Niamh looked at them warily, and then sat.
“Go on, then,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
“I- Alright. It’s like… clothes,” Viv said uncertainly.
“Clothes?” Niamh raised her eyebrows.
“You said you’d listen, so don’t interrupt,” Viv chided, elbowing Niamh playfully. “But yeah, it’s like clothes. You know, you have the guy’s section, and you have the women’s section, and you’re told that one or the other of them is for you. That’s where you should be. And you try the clothes on there, but they’re not right, they don’t fit. The shirts are so tight you feel exposed, or the necklines feel like they’re choking you. You can’t relax or feel comfortable. And so, very carefully, you… you try on something from the other section. And it doesn’t work either. Maybe it feels a little better, maybe it sort-of works. But it’s still not right. And then you find, hidden away at the back of the shop, there’s a third section. And everything fits, and there are people there who look like you, who feel like you, and you can let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It’s like finding that you’re not broken, not crazy, not even slightly. You’ve finally found what you were looking for.”
“That’s what it’s like, huh?” Niamh said quietly. “Did you prepare that?” She sighed heavily. “I know that when I found I was gay, when I knew there was a word for it, it was the best feeling in the world.” She pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head. “And that’s why I’m ending this.”
Shock like ice froze Viv’s veins. “W-what?”
“I’m gay, Viv. I love girls. That’s part of who I am, a big part. And if you’re not a girl, what does that make me?” She swallowed as tears began to run down her cheeks. “Viv, don’t do this to us, please. I can deal with almost anything. But not this.”
“Niamh, no,” Viv said, scrambling up, taking her face in their hands. “No. Please.”
“Just take it back,” Niamh said quietly, choked by sobs.
Viv felt tears flooding down their own face, and a voice whispered not to ruin it, to say yes, to do as she asked. “I can’t.”
They felt soft lips brush against their forehead, and then Niamh pulled away, leaving their arms horribly empty. Niamh mounted her horse, and looked down at Viv, still sitting on the rock. “I’m sorry, Viv. I loved you, really.” She clicked her tongue and turned Zach round, setting back off down the track. Viv watched her leave, her shape growing smaller and smaller, to a dot, and then-
Gone. Gone. Viv broke, and tears rolled freely down their cheeks. Their sobs racked their body as they howled their anguish at the sky. Unfair, their mind cried. It’s not fair.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and it began to rain.