Rogue on the Rollaway

by MacLeod, Shannon

  He purchased a larger saddlebag to pack their extra clothes in, both old and new. They bought toiletries, basically consisting of two bars of soap and a reasonable facsimile of a wooden comb. When he handed her the soap, she raised it to her nose to sniff. She was delighted to realize it smelled like fresh roses. She almost–almost–let herself smile at his thoughtfulness.

  He purchased arrows, a quiver and a bow at the next shop. Colleen watched while he discussed the available wares with the merchant, who dragged out every sword he owned in an attempt to close the sale. Faolan lifted one after the other, testing blade and balance of each. I refuse to feel proud of him, but he really does know his stuff, Colleen thought, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He made his decision, choosing a short sword and a lighter dirk which he concealed in the folds of his leine. At each establishment he spoke in that strange, thick voice –what Colleen now knew to be a compulsion spell–telling each of the shopkeepers that they had not seen the odd pair of travelers.

  As ordered, she didn’t wander off or talk to anyone. I think he’s enjoying that a little too much, she groused. She couldn’t have talked to anyone even if she wanted to; nobody said a word she understood. Realizing this must be what Faolan felt when she took him to the mall, she tried not to gawk at all the things for sale in the various stalls of the most authentic Ren faire ever. Shaking off the romanticized view for a moment, she opened her eyes and really looked–the people were in varying degrees of dirty, from those of apparent means down to the filthy urchins playing in the street. The typical clothing was not the brightly colored garments she remembered from fairs, and the pungent smells occasionally assaulting her nose were definitely not those of roasting turkey legs or sticky buns drowning in butter and powdered sugar.

  Still, there was an air of contentment that permeated the morning. The villagers worked side by side without complaint, hawking their wares, haggling and yelling at one another over the clamorous din. Colleen couldn’t help smiling at one or two of the curious onlookers, and was rewarded with happy–in some case toothless–grins in return.

  Their shopping concluded, he lifted her into the saddle then mounted behind her. “Were I alone, Princess, I’d rouse much more suspicion. They believe us married and traveling to visit relatives,” Faolan whispered close to her ear, maneuvering the horse through the milling throng of people.

  “Now where would they have gotten a fool idea like that?” she snapped.

  She didn’t have to look up to see his smile. She heard it in his voice. “‘Cause that’s what I told them, wife.”

  “In your dreams.” With a derisive snort, she sat ramrod straight and didn’t say another word.

  After procuring food and drink from the local tavern, Faolan traded mounts and they left again, this time traveling at a more leisurely pace. They followed the winding river south, riding the entire afternoon in silence. An hour or so before the gloaming, he found a secluded spot in a thicket of trees near the river to make camp for the night. “We’ll stop here and take our rest,” he said. Within minutes, he had a fire going. “Tend that,” he ordered, grabbing the bow and slinging the quiver over his shoulder, “and I’ll have our dinner in just a bit.”

  Colleen was horrified. “You’re going to kill something for dinner?” she squeaked.

  He shot her an incredulous look. “Aye, I prefer my meat dead. Less chance of being bit back that way. Think ye a rabbit will come when I call and just jump in the pot?”

  Wise ass. “I’m sorry–” Colleen began.

  “No, the fault is mine, Princess,” Faolan apologized, his voice gentle. “I forget yer not used to the old ways. I’ll not be far away; just call out if ye need me. Keep yer blade handy and doona wander far.”

  He returned a half hour later carrying four plump quail which were plucked, dressed, and spitted over the fire in short order. Colleen spread out a linen sheet she found in the saddlebag, then set out bread and cheese. When the game birds were roasted to perfection, Faolan retrieved the wineskins and they sat down to their feast. “So,” he asked casually, “is it still hating me ye are?”

  “Yup,” Colleen said, her voice sullen. “I don’t understand why I’m stuck here since you and Tinkerbell decided to go live happily ever after wherever it is people like you live. Not that I’m not having a great time, of course. Come to think of it,” she said, turning to pierce him with an icy stare, “why did you come back?”

  He flinched at her caustic tone. “Would it help to tell ye what happened, Blossom?” he asked. “All of it, I mean.”

  “I suppose it might, but I’m not holding out a whole lot of hope for you,” she snapped. “And quit calling me that. I liked it when I thought you loved me, but I’m not particularly fond of your endearments right now. Or you, for that matter.” She tore off a piece of bread and bit into it viciously.

  Faolan gave a heavy sigh and began. “When I was first enchanted, Prin…Colleen…” he corrected himself before she could, “my only thought–my only goal–was breaking free of it. To do that, I had to make the wearer fall in love with me, so much so that she gave me the amulet.”

  “So Tink was telling the truth. You did know how to break the curse. Why couldn’t you just do that voice thing?” Colleen said, staring off into the darkening woods.

  “Aobhnait was crafty. The necklace had to be given out of love in order to break the spell. Most of the wearers wanted to use me for what I could give them and didna think of releasing me.”

  “Like the genie in the lamp,” Colleen mumbled, remembering the story from the gift shop.

  “Aye, like that,” he nodded. “And without an entire soul I was immortal. Whenever the wearer died, or as in yer case the necklace was lost, I roamed until I was summoned again by the next owner.”

  “What would have happened to you if I hadn’t called you when I did? Would they have hung you?” Colleen asked, poking a stick into the fire to watch the little sparks fly through the air.

  “They would have,” he agreed, “and I would have pretended to be dead until they turned their backs and then I would have slipped away. I wasna looking forward to it. Being hung hurts like the very devil.”

  They sat in awkward silence for several moments until Colleen finally asked in a tiny voice, “So what about me?”

  Faolan stared into the flames as he spoke. “When ye first summoned me, I was delighted. Ye were an easy mark. Broken hearted and longing for even the slightest show of attention or affection from a man. Here’s my chance, thinks I. I can make this woman fall in love with me and break my curse.” The smile on his face was mocking. “But ye turned the tables on me right nicely, Colleen. When ye saw the cuts on my arms that first night and put all yer fear of me aside to tend my wounds, I caught a glimpse of the woman ye are deep inside, and I realized how different ye were from the others I had encountered.”

  He rose to add a couple of branches to the fire and stoked it again. “The night of the storm–”

  “When you invited yourself into bed with me,” Colleen prompted as he sat back down.

  “Aye,” he chuckled, remembering her feigned outrage. “My thought was to seduce ye, but when I saw ye lying there huddled and frightened, my only thought was to protect ye. I doona know when it was that I fell in love with ye.” He smiled, “But once I realized it, I knew I couldn’t let ye tell me ye loved me. I couldn’t allow ye to give me the amulet. At that point, I wanted only to be with ye, bound or no.”

  “Then Aobhnait gave you an ultimatum,” Colleen correctly guessed. When his brows furrowed at the unfamiliar word, she went on to explain. “She told you it would either be her or me.”

  Faolan nodded. “She would have killed ye for naught more than having fallen in love with me. The only way to stop that was to pledge my love to her in yer presence.” He tossed another branch onto the fire. “I couldna tell ye any of this or yer life would have been forfeit. My choices were to have yer soul imprisoned in place of mine or spurn ye in favor of that
heartless bitch. I didna want ye to suffer as I have done, sweetheart. I sought only to protect ye and lost yer love in the process,” he finished, his voice heavy. “I’m sorry to have wronged ye, but never for one moment did I stop loving ye.”

  “So where are we going now?” Colleen asked, her outrage dying a fast death in light of the new information.

  A sad smile played at the edges of his lips. “To find someone that can help ye get back home,” he said, rising to his feet. He snatched up a linen towel. “I’ll be back.”

  Colleen watched him stomp through the underbrush and disappear into the woods. Moments later, she heard a loud splash. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she followed the sounds through the woods and sat down to watch him bathe. She leaned back against the tree, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her face on her fists.

  The waxing moon was just peeping over the horizon as the last of the light faded from the sky. He did it to save you, her conscience chided.

  “Shut up,” Colleen muttered to herself, awash with guilt. Inside, Emotion vs. Intellect geared up for the battle of the century. Intellect went first, pointing out the obvious–Faolan was here, now, doing his best to keep her safe and help her find her way home again. He rode in like a big screen hero, taking out the bad guys and saving the damsel in distress from certain death. Emotion countered weakly, insisting she wouldn’t have been here at all if not for him. Intellect scoffed at such a flawed argument and argued he could not still be in love with Tink because helping Colleen would obviously be a conflict of interest. Emotion, with an unprecedented change of heart, argued maybe, just maybe Faolan was telling the truth and deserved one more chance. Colleen herself broke up the internal closing arguments. “I made a wish for the perfect man and he’s the one that showed up.”

  One more chance, her little voice had said. She slipped out of her gown, kicked off her slippers and ran naked toward the riverbank. He was up to his neck and swimming when she bounced once and executed a beautiful dive into the dark water just a yard away from him. “Colleen, wait!” he roared.

  She came up sputtering and gasping for air. “Jesus H. Christ, Faolan. It’s freezing! How in the hell can you swim in this water? What the hell are you? A freaking polar bear? Oh my God, how can you–”

  Her tirade was interrupted by his lips closing over hers. He pulled her hard to his body and lifted her to his chest, then slowly walked out of the water without breaking the kiss. The frigid temperature forgotten, she wrapped herself around him with feverish abandon, entwining her arms around his neck and kissing him back, giving him as much passion as she could muster. He reached down with one hand and picked up the towel, wrapping it around her shivering body. “I would have told ye it was cold,” he chuckled.

  He eased her down and briskly dried her to get the blood flowing again, squeezing the water from her hair with gentle hands. “Wait here,” he ordered, gathering their clothes. He suddenly stopped, gazing up into the darkness. “Look, Princess,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “There are my stars.”

  Colleen looked up and gasped. Millions of tiny, brilliant lights twinkled against the black velvet sky, the moon hanging large and low on the horizon. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured.

  Faolan kissed her shoulder and pressed his face into her wet hair. “Are ye still cold?” She shook her head and with a smile, he took the blanket and spread it out on the soft grass next to the riverbank. “Lie with me under my stars, Colleen.”

  “I would like that,” she whispered as they stretched out next to each other. The warm night was alive with the sound of insects, intoxicating with the scents of wildflowers and deep forest aloft on the light breeze. Colleen rolled to her side and pushed his hair back from his eyes. “Faolan, I’m so sorry I–”

  “Doona apologize to me, Princess, ye’ve done naught to warrant it,” Faolan soothed, capturing her hand and pulling her toward him. “There’s but one thing I would hear from yer beautiful lips now.”

  “I love you.” She smiled, and when he gave her a relieved smile, she said it again and again.

  “And I love none other but ye, my dearest one,” he said, trailing hot kisses from her ear down to her neck.

  “Tell me again…” She threaded her fingers through his hair, and moaned softly when his lips strayed lower. “…in Latin.”

  “Vos amo,” he chuckled, pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat, “Tha gaol agam ort.” He kissed the soft space between her breasts. “Je t’aime, ma très chère.” Pressing his head to her chest, he warmed to the sound of her heart beating against her ribcage like the wings of a frightened bird. “Dw i’n dy garu di,” he whispered, “No matter the language, it is still only ye I love.” His masterful caresses were unhurried and gentle enough to melt her very bones.

  “Please, Faolan,” she begged, “Now.”

  Without another word, he rose over her and buried himself within her in one smooth, gliding motion. His eyes closed and he groaned in pleasure as she gripped him tightly and ground her hips against his. “The moonlight shows ye for the angel ye are, Blossom,” he whispered, setting her whole body on fire with his hot breath against her ear. “In my dreams I hold my breath and wait to hear yer sweet voice crying soft in my ear, tellin’ me I’m the only man who can make ye feel like this. I’m the only one for ye, and well ye ken it.”

  “Yes,” she answered, wrapping her legs tighter around him. He deepened his thrusts, long and slow until she was drowning in the feel of him. “Love you, Faolan,” she gasped.

  “And I ye, sweet Colleen,” he said. When her eyes fluttered closed he growled, “Look at me, woman.”

  Her eyes flew open to find him gazing down at her, his eyes burning with an intense inner light. “I want to look in yer eyes when ye take yer pleasure,” he whispered, his thrusts becoming hard and possessive. “I am yer man, Colleen, and yers alone.” He felt her tighten around him and melted into her gaze, staring straight through as if looking directly into her soul.

  “And I am yours, Faolan,” Colleen breathed. They serenaded each other in a concert of passion and when they reached the crescendo together, he took her cries into him as he emptied his seed into her. He buried his lips in the hollow of her neck, whispering words in a language she didn’t understand. She felt the power and intent behind them and understood he was opening his heart to her the only way the proud warrior could.

  They lay entwined afterward, exchanging kisses and caresses, gazing up in wonder at the distant stars. When the chill night wind picked up, they dressed quickly and walked arm in arm back to the campsite. He built the fire up again so it was roaring then stretched out on the blanket, patting the ground next to him.

  “Lie here and let me warm ye,” he said. Colleen did so, facing the crackling fire with her back nestled against Faolan’s warm chest. She laid her head down, using his bicep for a pillow and gave a contented sigh as he tucked the edges of the blanket around them both. “I miss the softness of yer bed, but in truth, I think this night is as perfect as one has ever been.” He gave her a soft kiss on her ear. “I love ye, mo ruadh.”

  “Love you too,” Colleen murmured, drifting into a peaceful sleep.

  * * * *

  It seemed as if they had just dozed off when she jerked awake. “Wake up,” Faolan whispered, his hand pressed tight over her mouth. “Make no sound.” The hair stood up on the back of her neck as he threw the blanket off, lifted her into his arms and loped off into the dense thicket. “Stay right here and doona move,” he mouthed, depositing her next to the thick brush.

  He crept back to their campsite to kick dirt over the dying fire, snatch up their belongings and lead the horse into the trees, tossing the reins around a low hanging branch. She panicked when he disappeared from sight. Her fear doubled when the ground beneath her trembled with the beat of distant hooves. She opened her mouth to call out but ended up smothering a scream when she found him crouched behind her. He motioned for her to grab hold, turning hi
s back. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and locked her ankles around his waist he rose and headed for the nearest towering oak tree.

  Murmuring under his breath, he began to climb. Colleen sucked in her breath and tightened her grip when he scaled the trunk and began pulling himself up branch by branch. When they had reached the dizzying height of the tree tops, he stopped and pointed to the horizon. “We’ll be safe here for the moment,” he explained, motioning to the branches surrounding them. “Look.”

  Colleen cracked her eyes open and gasped. A dozen riders dressed in brilliant colors rode from the south, their long bright hair streaming out behind them. There was no formation. Some would suddenly veer off only to rejoin the main pack moments later. Their powerful horses wore similar colors, eating up the ground with long strides. They stopped briefly at the grassy spot by the riverbank, then continued north past the campsite and disappeared in the distance.

  “Fae,” Faolan explained, beginning the long climb down. “A search party.”

  “What would they be searching for?” Colleen asked, wishing like hell she didn’t already know the answer to the absurd question.

  “I’ll wager they were sent by Aobhnait to bring us back to her,” Faolan muttered. “She doesna give up, even when she’s lost.”

  Colleen clung to him for dear life and squeezed her eyes closed again. “You know, none of this would be happening if you weren’t so good in bed.”

  He stopped climbing long enough to glance back over his shoulder. “Complaining, mistress?” he teased, a purely masculine grin lighting his face.

  “Explaining, monkey man. Just get us down from here before you kill us both,” she snapped. “It’s too freaking early in the morning for this level of drama.”

  He chuckled and resumed his downward climb. “As ye wish, Princess. Would now not be a good time to remind ye there’s no coffee?” He chuckled again when he got only a low growl in response.