Branded by a Warrior

by Andrea Thorne

  Walking up towards his tower, the same tower where earlier today he had caused such a rift between himself and Kendrix, along with accusing his wife of grave misdeeds, he recounted how today could have been so different. If he had never been captured, Elisabeth would have never been present when he delivered sweet vengeance against Kincaid and his men. Kendrix was right; Kincaid had played into her hand perfectly.

  Unlocking the door to the tower, he reached up and grabbed a candle to light their way as they slowly walked up the stairs together, the wolfhounds passing them as they ran ahead.

  “How is ye arm Lis? I am amazed at the blows ye blocked from Ivan tonight, I’ve never seen a stronger man in all of my days.” He admitted as they walked into the study.

  “Sore, my entire body is sore.” She confessed, escorting him to the chair before the fire. Her wound had stopped bleeding over an hour ago. She was confident it posed no threat to her health, she assured him time and again tonight on their ride home. Broderick of course was being ridiculously overprotective and was overly worried about her. She had missed the way he worried about her so. It was good to have him home.

  Broderick groaned as he sat down, reaching up to clutch his chest in discomfort as he scowled. She knew he hated showing any weakness. Seeing him get comfortable she turned around and stoked the fire, tossing in a few more logs to add much needed heat and light.

  Elisabeth turned around and sighed, home. She was finally home. Her husband, his brother and niece were all safe, and they were all home. Seeing the dogs perk up, she heard Rhona at the base of the stairs asking permission to come up, hailing down to her she watched as hot water and supplies were brought. Rhona talked Broderick’s ear off while the staff brought buckets of hot water and fresh clothes, food and supplies. Seeing that the young couple had everything they needed, Rhona kissed Broderick’s head and gave Elisabeth a warm hug before she quickly disappeared.

  Finally, alone with Broderick in their private retreat emotions swept over her like a stampeding herd. She could let her guard down. Looking at her husband, the tears finally sprang forth. Running across the room she jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around him and cried. She was unafraid of appearing weak or womanly, she had longed for her husband for weeks upon weeks. The sadness, the lonely sleepless nights she had endured, the pain in her heart and the realization she was carrying his child. She needed nothing more than Broderick’s embrace. Sobbing incoherently into his chest, she felt his large hands run up her back, soothing her as she cried.

  “Shhh Lis, we are home and safe lass,” he purred, gathering her closer to him. He rubbed her back as she cried; finally the woman showed her feminine side and let some of her built up emotion show, “You were incredible Lis, simply incredible. I owe you my life once again, in fact, I think you saved my life several times tonight love,” he admitted in earnest.

  Holding her tight, he felt her slim arms squeeze tighter as she sobbed. God he missed her, so many times tonight he thought he was going to watch her die. They had survived together, he had put his family’s life in her hands and she won the day.

  “I missed you so much Broderick, so very much. I was so worried I would lose you tonight, so afraid I was not strong enough and would fail.” She murmured between tears.

  Tilting up her chin, he looked into her green eyes and smiled, “and I missed you lass, words will never be able to properly convey how sorry I am about my homecoming and abhorrent accusations, but I will spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, and how much I love and trust you.” Leaning down he kissed her soft mouth and felt her melt in his arms. God she tasted like heaven and honey.

  Elisabeth heard him hiss when she pressed too hard against his chest, reminding her of the wound she had yet to properly inspect. Breaking the kiss she pulled back and ripped Broderick’s tartan and shirt back, “Oh sweet Jesu Broderick!” She exclaimed as her eyes scanned a deep slash that ran from his shoulder all the way to the opposite hip.

  “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Slipping out of his lap she ran over and gathered the tray of supplies Rhona had brought.

  “I hadn’t had time to see it myself, we’ll have matching scars Lis,” He said, half amused as he ran his hand down beside the slash across his chest inspecting his mangled trunk, “I am more concerned about your wound my dear, your dress is soaked and I can see you favoring your side, dinnae think I forgot about the arrow I saw sticking out of yer side.”

  Rolling her eyes, she felt the stab of pain she had been ignoring since she was shot. He was correct, she had bled profusely, and the blasted arrow had lodged itself in her lowest rib, pulling it out had been a chore. Yet, she knew it had not penetrated her enough to cause damage. The wound would heal easily. Her rib would be sore for a while, but it was nothing that would kill her.

  “Why weren’t you wearing your chainmail Lis?” he looked up from his chest and saw her kneeling before him preparing the needle and thread.

  Dunking the clean linen clothes in the hot water, she looked up at her husband’s green eyes, “I was worried it would hinder my movement and speed,” she admitted, ringing out the cloth. Leaning towards him, she gently grabbed his bracers and unlaced them so she could work on his chest. Setting them down, she unraveled his blood soaked tartan and sat it beside them as she stood up and eyed the slashed shirt he wore. In one smooth movement, she ripped it from his broad chest with both hands.

  Tossing the ruined shirt in the blazing fire she reached down and picked up the cloth, gently cleaning his chest of blood. Attempting to change the subject, she remembered they had yet to talk of his meeting with the King, “How is my cousin, the King?” She asked as she set to work.

  “I think he genuinely wanted to see you, he seemed very protective of you and wanted to gauge your feelings on our marriage. I gave him the letter within minutes of seeing him, it lessened his irritation considerably to know you were in love with me,” he smiled, “He approves of your choice.”

  “Of course he does, you were always their first choice.” She murmured, grinning.

  Reaching out, Broderick gently captured his wife’s chin and tilted her head up so she would look at him; “Explain.” He purred as he rubbed his thumb across her jaw.

  “Because of my ties to the Crown, Richard wanted to be assured that the man I married was worthy in the event I was crowned Queen of England. For years he and my father pushed for me to marry men of their choosing, you had always been their first choice. Even Duncan agreed, yet I refused to even consider you or any man.”

  “Duncan approved of me?”

  Tilting her head she smiled and kissed his hand and picked up the needle, “Aye Broderick, your rift with my brother caused great turmoil between you two, of that there is no doubt. However, Duncan looked up to you, you were the man he measured all other warriors against. He wanted to see me wed to you.” Sighing, she warned, “Please hold still, this will take all night to close my love.” Setting needle to mangled skin, she started to slowly close his wound.

  “I don’t understand, the King and your father, nor Duncan never said anything over the years.”

  “After a extremely harsh discussion with the king, and my father and brother, I threw a fit and wagered against the king and my father, a wager you know that I won. They never said anything to the men they had suggested for me, for I think they knew it was hopeless.” She smiled as she stitched his chest closed; she had started high on his shoulder.

  “In the end, you married me.” He responded, quickly sucking in his breath as she hit a tender spot.

  Leaning over, she kissed his bruised jaw, “I married you because I love you, not because a King told me to,” she winked and continued to sew. The wound he had was considerably longer, yet not as deep as hers had been. It crossed from his left shoulder all the way to his right hip.

  “Ye will need to show me yer arm and rib wife, I would like to see the damage myself before we go to sleep tonight.”

  She felt
him run his strong hand down her sword arm, moving it across her injured rib. “Of course, I cannae wait to be out of this bloody gown, Rhona will be sad I ruined it. She worked so hard on it.” She mused as she worked over his chest and across his muscular stomach, taking a moment to look at her tattered gown.

  “Feel free to take yer clothes off at any time wife, I’m sure ye can work better naked.” Chuckling he leaned back and extended his long legs out the best he could so she could work faster.

  “Hush, let me finish putting you back together, you sit back and rest your eyes,” she hissed, playfully swatting at him as she continued to work. She had seen fatigue in his face, she knew he was exhausted. He had just returned home from Inverness to become captured by Kincaid, held prisoner for the night and fight a battle. The man needed sleep; she could feel him swaying in his saddle upon their ride back home. Although he refused to admit it, the man had taken a tremendous hit upon his broad chest, he hadn’t slept in God knows when, he had been bleeding for hours.

  Stitch after stitch she worked her way down, finally surrounded by quiet, she was able to reflect on everything that had happened in the last day. Today she realized she carried Broderick’s babe in her stomach, her husband had returned only to accuse her and Kendrix of unspeakable misdeeds. Next she witnessed the MacMillan brothers fighting nose to nose, she had never observed such tension and palpable fury in her life. She had yet to find out how Kincaid was able to capture the three of them so easily, it had all happened so very quickly.

  The reality that Kincaid was finally dead swirled in her head, he was dead. She thought over her vow to her family, and the promise she made to Broderick tonight. She would honor her word and forfeit her swords to him, he allowed her to kill Ivan, and in doing so she would gladly turn her sword over.

  Underneath her hands she felt her husband’s breathing fall into steady cadence, looking up at his face she saw his head resting upon the chair back, his eyes closed, finally asleep.

  Whispering, “Sweet Jesu you had to be tired to fall asleep while I sew ye closed, sleep my love.” Smiling at his peaceful face.

  Broderick had been remarkable tonight, it was the first time she witnessed her husband in battle, she had never been prouder of the man before her in all her life. He trusted her, he allowed her to make the calls, he had shown her his support in the moment she had needed him most. Watching Broderick in battle tonight captured her attention, she had never seen a man like him in all her life. She had never witness such explosive prowess before in her life. Slowly sewing Broderick’s chest closed she took time to reflect upon the battle, the fire crackled behind her as she pierced Broderick’s skin over and over again.

  Over two hours later, she had finally finished up on his right hip. Slowly standing up from her stool she stretched her tight muscles and sighed as she rolled her sore neck. Looking down at the sleeping giant before her, she inspected her work with pride. He lay across the large leather chair, sleeping as if he was dead to the world dressed in only his bloodied kilt and boots. The wound was now completely closed from shoulder to hip, she had been thankful that it had not been overly deep. Kneeling back down before her husband she slowly unlaced his huntsman boots and pulled them off each leg, the man needed a bath and rest. Making him comfortable was the least she could do before she changed out of her soiled gown for the night.

  Earlier while she worked and Broderick slept, she had let Rhona carry up food and ordered a hot bath drawn in the large copper tub now installed in the corner. Smiling to herself, she looked upon the room with pride; she had turned Broderick’s study into a functional bedroom. She knew they would spend the majority of their time in this room throughout their lives, she wanted it outfitted with all the comforts they could ever need.

  Exhaling deeply, she turned around to the fire and slowly worked on her laces, she had yet to see her wound, the location would bring her pain for many months. The arrow had hit bone, she wasn’t sure if her rib was broken or not. If she breathed too deep, the pain lanced through her veins like fire.

  Her hand had been cut by the first blow Ivan had dealt her, inspecting her hand in the firelight she silently told herself to wrap it tonight and have Rhona close it for her tomorrow. She was sure her arrow would require the same treatment. God she was sore, and exhausted. She wanted a bath and to sleep next to her husband, nothing else in the world sounded better to her.

  With her laces loose, she removed her MacMillan tartan and tossed it next to Broderick’s. Slowly bending down she unlaced her boots, kicking out of them she enjoyed the burning fire before her. The blazing heat felt incredible. Removing her bracers next she tossed them next to Broderick’s as she rubbed her wrists. Lifting up her skirts she pulled down her leggings and flicked them with her toe over to the discarded clothing pile.

  Sighing with pleasure of bare legs she pulled let the gown fall down to her ankles on the floor. Heavy with blood, she stepped out of the soiled gown and kicked it over to the pile as well.

  With only her chemise on, she pulled it off her body in a happy moan. She couldn’t wait to sink into the hot tub and wash away the blood. Twisting her shoulders, she attempted to look where the arrow had struck, feeling with her fingers, she found the hole in her side.

  Feeling the tug at his feet, Broderick slowly woke up to see his lovely wife shed her clothing before him. Waking up to his wife standing naked before him and the fire was something he could learn to live with. He saw the wound on her back as she pulled her chemise off; it was low enough to concern him.

  Watching her in front of the crackling fire, he saw her touch the wound and wince in pain. He could see a very faint change in her belly, hardly noticeable naked and surely hidden while clothed. Her body had changed while he was away, she had lost weight, of that there was no doubt. He wondered how hard she suffered with his absence, it appeared more than he realized. The thought of her suffering upset him greatly.

  “It appears I’ve died and gone to heaven after all.” He mused, smiling at seeing her jump, he could not keep silent any longer.

  “I thought you were asleep?” She turned around quickly and looked at him, her hands on her hips as she smiled back.

  “Do I smell a rose bath? When did we get a tub up here?” He asked. Sitting up slowly he looked around, following the aromatic scent of the rose. Hearing her chuckle, she ran her hand gently over his good shoulder.

  “Aye, over in the corner by the bed. It is new, would ye care to take a bath with yer wife my liege?”

  Standing up in one smooth motion, he had scooped her up against his chest and quickly stepped around the pile of bloody clothing. His chest ached but he didn’t care one bit, having Elisabeth in his arms is all he wanted. Steam rose from the hot bath as he lowered Elisabeth gently into the heavenly water. Watching the redheaded beauty sigh with pleasure he pulled his belt lose and dropped his kilt where he stood. He watched her sink into the hot water with a glorious moan.

  Stepping in beside her, he slowly sunk down into the hot water and let out a sigh of relief. They were both covered in blood, their own and others. A cleansing bath was exactly what they both needed.

  “Turn around love.” He asked, motioning with his hand, seeing her smile she nimbly maneuvered in the soapy water and leaned back into him. Picking up the soap he gently set to work on Elisabeth’s long red hair. Massaging her scalp he took a moment to reflect on their journey.

  He had been waiting all night for Elisabeth to tell him he was to be a father, yet time after time the woman said nothing. He was sure the arrow didn’t strike anywhere near the babe, why hadn’t she said anything? Was she scared to tell him?

  Rinsing her hair he took his time washing her lithe body. She has lost incredibly too much weight for his liking, yet she was still magnificent. It was hard to control his urges as he slowly saw to cleaning every inch of her skin. He had missed being near her; he missed her voice and her moans, the smell of her hair and the softness of her ivory skin. He had missed the way her
eyes sparkled when she held her sword, or the beauty in her laugh.

  “My turn.” She purred, taking the soap from his hands with a bright little smile. Sitting back he allowed Elisabeth to wash his body as he did hers. Her every touch made him want her, it had been too long. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her right this very moment.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and allowed himself to enjoy her tender caresses, sighing with pleasure, he felt her small hand wrap around his cock.

  Smiling down at her husband, she saw his eyes pop open the moment she touched his velvet shaft, licking her lips she straddled her husband. Feeling his hands upon her, she lifted her hips up and slowly lowered herself down Broderick’s thick cock.

  “Oh yes, God I missed you Broderick.” She moaned, raising her hips she closed her eyes and tilted her head back as he guided her with his strong hands. It had been so long since they had made love, weeks upon weeks. Feeling him slowly stretch her as he brought her down upon his erect staff her jaw dropped with ecstasy as he tilted higher into her. The fire roared on the opposite side of the room, few candles still burned, together the two rocked as one in the steaming bath. His battle-hardened hands caressed her as he kissed her lips and kneaded her breasts. Lost for words, Elisabeth felt Broderick bury himself in her as she threw back her head in screaming ecstasy, time and time again. Never had she climaxed so many times, so quickly. She was desperate for her husband, desperate for the intimacy with him that she had missed these past weeks.

  Water splashed out of the tub in rhythmic waves as she rode him into the night. His touch, his kiss, everything he did made her hotter and hotter; she had missed his touch so much that her body was responding in wanton desire. She craved his grasp, his bite, his playfulness and roughness; she needed him to brand her with his love. She wanted to feel his hands on her long after he stopped touching her. She felt him run his hands up her breasts as he took each nipple into his mouth as he pounded into her wet core, she could feel herself pulsing against his massive shaft as he pulled in and out. Gasping for breath she heard Broderick whisper into her ear as he bounced her up and down underneath the water, “Mine, my wife, my warrior queen.” Rocking into her to his hilt, he exploded into her womb once more, sending her into one final climax.