“Aye, we've been kept up to date on ye, wee lass. With MacDuff, it has been almost an obsession these last two years. Arch-Druid... quite an accomplishment. Everyone is verra proud o' our wee Princess.”
“And you, Tiernan? Are ye proud, too?” Her gaze was hooded when she met his eyes, a stiffness in her bearing he'd never seen before. It was as if she awaited his approval. The thought made him distinctly uncomfortable.
“I have always been proud of you, Abby. Always.” He was so serious, so emphatic in his answer. On impulse, Ailill turned, raised her arms, wrapping them so tightly about his chest that it took his breath away. She felt so good in his arms, so right. He was struck temporarily dumb with the proof of how much she meant to him.
“I've missed you, too, lad... so very much.” Her whisper made his heart pound, his feet and hands feel suddenly tingly. When her stomach rumbled insistently against his own, breaking a sudden tension that had begun to flare up between them, Tiernan laughed aloud, reined in their shared mount beside a small burn, pleased with himself for thinking to rescue his wee lass; and to pack a picnic lunch so early this morn.
“Are the long robes a requirement now that yer the highest ranking Druid?”
Tiernan's dark eyes slid over the shapeless robe Ailill had worked so hard to earn. His displeasure in not being able to actually look at his favorite lass was obvious in his tone and she turned at the sound, one brow lifted in surprise.
“Ye were there when I relinquished all, including my name, Tiernan. I own naught but a couple robes, until I have a chance to see what Brenna has in the way o' ready-made clothes, aye?”
“Well, and how do I know ye haven't gotten fat in the past year?” He argued, though his eyes gleamed, crinkling up ever so slightly at the corners as he forced himself not to smile. “Not that I actually believe that ye would. Get fat, I mean. It's just that, well... mphmm, it has been almost an entire year since we swam in the surf at Inbhir Nàrann. And that was the verra last time I saw ye in a plaidy or yer birthday suit.”
Her look of blatant outrage was too funny; he could not have held back the laughter bubbling up to the surface had he wanted to.
“I've eaten naught but plants and berries for two years!” she yelled over his rude chuckling. “I've likely lost weight! I'm still a bitty wee thing and you've grown into a giant from dining on all those fine meals o' meat and tatties whilst living in luxury amongst the good people o' Heartfire Keep!”
He didn't notice the effect of his ribbing until Ailill turned away, shoulders slumped. His laughter faded to still silence when she suddenly ran into the forest, her movements quite obviously hindered by the long lengths of dark blue cloth. Within seconds, he was right on her heels, reaching out to clasp her small form to his chest, his arms fairly squeezing the breath from her lungs as she unexpectedly burst into tears. He'd not held her like that in years; not since she was a homesick wean of four, crying for the loss of the parents left on the opposite side of a vast and empty sea.
“Wheesht, lass. Don't cry,” he husked softly, his own throat feeling like it was closing up on him, sympathetic to a young girl's tears as he sat on a nearby log and cradled her on his lap. “Dinna cry, mo gealbhan. I am here for ye now and I willna leave ye to loneliness nor hunger again. My honor is my word, and ye have that everafter. Shh... shh.” Leaning back to look at her, Tiernan gently wiped her eyes with a clean hankie, surprised by the depths of emotion he could feel in the girl. “Was it truly so bad, after I left?” he wondered aloud, holding her to him as if he could change what already was by sheer will.
“Not so very bad,” Ailill answered truthfully, her voice shaky. “Twas lonely after you left the Order, Tiernan. So terribly lonely. The only way to keep myself from dwelling on it was to work hard, to carry out all they set before me and excel until there was naught left to learn. I didn't want to outrank everyone else, it was an accident. I had no one after you were gone and it fair drove me mad.” Accepting the handkerchief he offered, she turned away to wipe her nose. “I'm sorry for crying like a bairn. How young you must think me, how uncontrolled no matter my titles and accomplishments.”
“I'm the one who should apologize, Abby. I shouldn't have made fun after all yer hard work. It was uncalled for and I am sorry.” Abashed, he looked away from her searching gaze. “I'm sorry for a great many things, leannan. Too many to explain just now.” Suddenly evasive in the face of her openly suspicious look, he stood, holding her across his chest like a babe. “I had the forethought to bring us a picnic lunch and, as long as yer allowed to eat it, the main staples are meat and tatties.” Her interest was certainly piqued by that lofty comment. Her eyes sparkled like star sapphires and she suddenly looked ravenous. “How does beef pasties sound? And cool, creamy milk?”
When he mentioned scones for desert, Ailill's smile easily outshone the watery sun peeking overhead.
It was a quiet homecoming, the duo slipping in through a bolthole at the back of the keep long after darkness had fallen, moving through the grounds like a pair of shadows, stealthy and silent until they reached the home of Heartfire Keep's head sempstress. At the request of the wee Princess, with Tiernan only too happy to agree, the young woman was sworn to secrecy about their arrival, only told to have a package delivered to the lad's room first thing in the morning, after she and Ailill had disappeared for a good half hour, and he left alone to ponder just what caused lassies to giggle so much when lads weren't around.
When they reached Tiernan's rooms, at last, Ailill was so tired that he found himself holding her up. Her small body still swathed in the shapeless garment, he bundled the girl into bed, crawled in beside her and, holding her in his arms for the first time in nearly a year, fell instantly to sleep.
She woke slowly, surprised to find herself surrounded by solid walls, a ceiling that did not move and rustle in the breeze. The warmth beside her drew her eye and Ailill turned soundlessly, raising up on an elbow to watch the lad she knew so well. His breaths were even, slow and steady with deep slumber; she knew he'd not slept so soundly in many long months, her own sleep fitful for the very same reason. They'd shared a bed nearly every night for six years before she'd gone to train with the Order. Innocent, no different than siblings in all that time, she sensed a change in him. For one, Tiernan had never made such a big deal about her body; never shown such open curiosity in how she might look after time spent apart. Then again, up 'til two years ago, they'd not spent time apart and even when she'd first gone to live amongst the Order, Tiernan had chosen to join, as well, after just a few days. Though well spent, his time had come and gone too quickly, while hers had only just begun. Ailill was simply destined for much more, and the experience had been worthwhile.
But oh! how she had missed that lad! Life amongst a sect of Ancients proved utterly lonely to a small lass used to living at the heart of a group of boisterous warriors-in-training. Too strict, too quiet; too different. She'd changed as well... more than she cared to let on. But it was a different sort of change she'd undergone, no less physical than this new, older lad; no, she'd changed in every aspect, grown into all that she was supposed to become, what had been written in the histories. She had much reason to be proud of herself, she knew.
And it seemed that all Tiernan cared about on her first day back in the normal world was whether she might have gotten fat? No, it had to be more than the fact that he could not look upon his brawny wee lass, see the changes a full year had wrought. He had no idea what it had been like, how hard she had worked to keep her body in top physical form despite the obvious displeasure her daily routine had brought from the others, who'd rather she sit about and meditate all day long. No, he had no idea what to expect, and it must have bothered him; enough that he would speak and act not like her best friend, but more like a regular boy might act. But Tiernan MacDuff was not, had never been, a regular boy. His changes were quite evident, his body that of a young man, his features, even. He looked like a statue, sculpted of burnished bronze, the har
d lines of his newer, older face no longer hidden by youth. Although... peering closely, Ailill could still see the boy beneath the chiseled surface of mortal flesh; bare from the waist up, she took careful note of the surprising breadth of his muscles, eyed the smooth skin, upon which she itched to etch ancient symbols, to embellish with precious metals. Aye, she could picture that with ease. As she watched, a smile curved his smooth, almost plump lips; even his dreamwalks were happier with the sure knowledge that she was back for good. Smiling in return, soon grinning like a fool as she glanced about, hungrily seeking the familiar surroundings of home, she could not help feeling a pang of regret when the expected tap came on the outer door.
Careful not to wake the lad as she moved, Ailill stood, paused just long enough for her tiny feet to luxuriate in the softness of the rabbit-skin rug sewn across the floor, her toes curling with the soft, pleasurable sensation. At another light tap, she quietly shut the bedroom door, tiptoed across the room and opened the outer door a crack, only to find her nose nearly planted in a bare and totally masculine chest.
“Declan.”
“Princess.”
With a muffled giggle, Ailill was whisked off her feet, spun about the hallway with dizzying speed by her elder cousin.
“Put me down!” she cried, breathless, utterly happy for the first time in too long. Then again, her second favorite lad in all the land usually had that effect. “I dinna wish to wake yon prince too soon.”
Met with a saucy grin, her eyes widened when Declan pinched her bum before setting her gently on her feet. Emerald eyes sparkled like gems as they moved over the robes she'd been wearing since yesterday, full of mirth as always. “Och mo gealbhan, I can certainly see why ye paid Brenna a covert visit at such a late hour. You've yet to show off those new curves I felt beneath all that flowing blue cloth.” Pursing his lips in thought, his gaze went to the closed door, mischief alight there in the green depths. “Unless... hmm... ye weren't naked ere I knocked, were ye?”
“Declan! How could ye say such a thing?” she demanded, laughing in spite of herself.
“Poor Tiernan,” he answered in the same vein, taking her hand to move farther from the door. “And the lad had such high hopes for yer reunion, too.”
Pulling her along, Declan tried not to look directly at Ailill, knowing that she was too intelligent not to see the truth in his eyes despite his teasing tone. He looked down when her steps faltered, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. There was an innocence in the shimmering depths that caused him to flush with chagrin, to mentally berate his own loose lips. A child, yet not. If not for the multitude of geise set upon her wee shoulders, and the fact that she'd yet to find the lost princes, his cousin should have been mated a couple years ago. She obviously had no idea that when a lad felt as strongly for her as Tiernan did, life came nearly to a standstill in her absence. The wee princess had no idea that her best friend was in love with her and had been for years.
Suddenly wary, Ailill refused to be budged when the young man attempted to keep them both moving. “Where are we going, Declan?”
“To yer quarters, lass. Brenna is waitin' to see that the clothes fit alright.”
It took a moment for her inherent stubbornness to be swayed, but her feet soon slipped alongside his own without further delay. “Brenna was sworn to secrecy. No one was to know we were here until later.”
“Aye, I ken it,” said Declan, “but wee Brenna and I are... close, ye might say, and it was hard for her to hide the wardrobe she spent all night making for her liege.” At Ailill's curious look, he nodded. “Aye, Abby darlin'. I found that my attraction to our lovely sempstress was too tempting to ignore. If I didn't have her, I likely would have died o' starvation.” His grin was contagious; she flashed one of her own in return. Declan had always been honest with her, answering whatever question she could think up with no less than the full truth, and as much explanation as he believed she needed, no matter the subject.
“Is she pregnant, then?” The thought brought a wistful smile to his lips, but his dark head shook slowly in answer. “But ye wouldn't mind it if she were?” At his nod, she sighed deeply, a disgruntled look marring her pretty features. “Why would ye say such things about Tiernan and me, Declan? I don't understand it; first he acted oddly, and now you show up before dawn and act just as strangely. Is there something I've missed in my time away?”
“Naught I am capable o' telling you about, Abby,” he answered truthfully, his gaze settling on her fiery curls rather than her knowing eyes. “But ye mun understand, lassie, that Tiernan has grown this past year-”
“Aye,” she cut in, rueful. “I can see that, cousin. Soon he'll be a man, and I'll still be a child. Is that what ye mean?”
“No, lass!” In disbelief, the man gave a soft snort, a chuckle, his gaze moving over the loose-fitting robe as if he could see through the heavy folds. “Ye may have fooled our virginal Prince into believing that blether, but I see just what it is that symbol you've taken to wearing hides from the naked eye. And part o' the reason I ken this is for the simple fact that I sleep with the woman who makes yer clothes. Now, come inside so that my lover might finally get some rest after all her hard work. Alright?” Not waiting for a reply, he opened the door and stepped into Ailill's own rooms, where a small dark haired woman stood waiting amidst the Princess' newly made wardrobe.
“Where is she?”
Declan's dark head came up at the whispered question, his expression innocent though his eyes danced with humor. Tiernan stood tall in the doorway, already six feet and still growing at a rapid pace; sleep rumpled and yawning, he was hastily tucking the end of yesterday's shirt into a well-worn pair of leather leggings. A frown marred his regal brow when his friend tried an innocent “Who?” on for size.
“Ye ken verra well whom, man.” A covert glance at the empty hallway behind himself brought Tiernan just a step closer as he whispered the name he had awoken with already on his lips.
“Och, ye ken the lass, up before the sun, ready to start the day. She is likely headed to Drummossie as we speak.” A raised brow and a muttered curse sufficed for goodbye as Declan's gaze settled on Tiernan's rapidly retreating back, his grin well hidden by the time his brothers joined him for breakfast though his eyes twinkled with mirth as he dug into the tasty fare with gusto, half wishing he'd accompanied his fellow warrior, if only to see the look he knew would be on the poor lad's face when at last he met up with the little Princess once again.
Cloaked so that no mortal would notice his presence, if any happened to be about the cairns and markers of Culloden at such an ungodly hour, Tiernan stepped softly through the gorse, the heather just beginning to bud, eyes roving about the well tended bit of vast moorland before coming, at last, to rest on what he'd sought this last twenty minutes. There, down in a small gully off to the side of the last marker, flaming curls bouncing in the breeze as she moved, the unsuspecting object of his hearts' desire.
Ailill.
It makes much sense to say that not only did his steps falter at the sight, his feet came to a complete and utter standstill. Blinking in confusion, his jaw suddenly fell slack, eyes widening almost painfully.
She moved with uncommon grace, sculpted arms and legs flowing in seamless rhythm as she stepped and turned to some inner music, words of an ancient dialect forming on her lips, a soft Celtic greeting to the sun, the earth, the new day. Her skin was smooth, flawless, a light bronze and, perhaps most surprising of all, mostly visible. An itty bitty kilt, the colors of the Black Watch, fell barely midway between hip and knee, her top a form-fitting little number in green with the thinnest straps he'd seen before, hardly a thread. Tiernan gaped, momentarily at a loss both mentally and physically.
His wee Abby had blossomed...
Not only that, but she had surely bloomed into the most beautiful flower he had ever had the pleasure to set his gaze upon. At once he was overcome, his heart speeding up while at the same time his stomach dropped. A sudden rollercoaster of
desire and guilt. Up and down, his mind wrapping around the discomfort of new feelings for the young lass. He'd always loved her, but now he felt a wanting, too, that had never been there before. What would she say, gi'n she knew? Did she even realize what she looked like now? She'd grown into a woman, yet not.
And how had she grown into such a beauty, all womanly curves with those over-large breasts and rounded hips made for pleasure, yet kept the same truly innocent face?
Coming back to himself, Tiernan blinked, stepped back a couple paces, turned on his heel and hightailed it the hell out of there; the muffled crack of a twig the only sign that Ailill had not been alone. Or so he thought. Her gaze snapped up at the sound, zeroing in on the dark head moving so quickly away. Unsure of what had drawn her best friend away without a word, Ailill finished up her ritual, swept away the circle Tiernan had not noticed around her, and set off at a much slower pace, her mind working with the plans she had been making since the week before. She was going fishing today, perhaps without the lad for the very first time, though why he would suddenly wish to forgo their annual holiday trek, the celebration of her own birthday, she had no idea. Huffing out a sigh and feeling at odds with herself, the free time she was so not used to anymore, her pace quickened until she was in an all out sprint toward Heartfire Keep, her need for escape pulling her along until it felt like an all consuming burn in her gut, her heart. It was good to be home... at last, but being completely honest with herself, she could hardly wait to leave again
“I have had it!”
Declan looked up as the door slammed open, a small chunk of plaster skittering across the room from where the knob had hit the wall. Little lass flashed him a furious look as he took in the angry red of her cheeks, the heaving of her chest as her nostrils flared, unable to take in oxygen fast enough to cool her temper. “Did you run all the way here then, Abby?”
Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) Page 4
