Rites of Passage Redux (Armphid & Haremfaery)

((Ack, I thought I posted to this from my phone, but it looks like it didn't go through Sorry.))

Aine was ready to snap at Tiernan for his comment. She knew he and most of the youth of the village thought her vain. Perhaps somewhere deep within she knew she had been chosen by the gods. Was that why she shunned all the lads, so that she would be untouched for this Beltaine when she became the goddess's vessel?

But he explained himself and she was really too tired to be angry. She appreciated that he did not imply that she had brought this on herself. He had been the one to tell her more than once to stay clear of the O'Banions and Ian in particular. She sought Ian out just to prove she could do as she liked, at least until their marriage.

The kiss was a surprise and not at all what Aine expected. When he spoke of crushing her to him, she thought he might. She was not sure what she would have done in that case. But he was gentle and she responded in kind.

That was not the kiss of her Beltaine lover, she was sure of it. What joke of the gods would that have been?

Tiernan did seem to be wooing her now, after all this time. She decided she rather liked it. "You should go and join my father. Lead the rest of the men to him. I would not have them say you neglected your duty to the clan. My mother is here. Return safely."

There was some slight disappointment in her eyes when she looked to him after their kiss. It was not there long, a flicker of a moment and perhaps it had not been there at all in hindsight. Yet he was sure it had been. What then had been wrong? What more then could he do?

Her lips had responded to his, and well so. His praise of her kiss was honestly meant and intended. But now he wondered if that was truly her kiss or merely her kiss for him. Was her true kiss held for another?

Tiernan nodded at her response, "Gods willing." The phrase chilled him. What if the gods had else planned for Aine? Someone else. "Eat and drink, best to cleanse your body of whatever ill was used. I will return, be well."

And he left her there, in the house of her parents, and went out to call to those who were gathering at it's foot and had not yet sought out. Tiernan listened to them and spoke briefly, and within minutes the new group was riding our northward and east to find their king and see the fate of their foes.

And his heart, which had been calmed, was in tumult. But this was not time for that. There was only time for duty and what was right.

Perhaps that would be the theme of his life.

((Do we want to do a fast forward here or continue to RP through the events of the day? You can PM me to talk about it too, if you'd rather.))

"The gods are on our side in this, Tiernan. Hold that as a shield and return safely." Aine told him. Her eyes were soft. She would not have any harm come to him. It would only cause more turmoil. She nodded, "I will do as you say. I am sure my mother will see to it."

She watched until Tiernan left the great hall. Her mother returned and as predicted urged more food and drink on her. But she refused to lie down and rest, not until her father and Tiernan were safely returned.

((FF is fine, Kynthelig will have to make an appearance at some point to give the druids' opinions of the meaning of the crows, and Aine may want to talk to him alone.))

The sun was setting before the men of the clan returned. The gates were being manned by the older youths and and those men too old to ride to war but still hearty; and the lookouts gave a cry as they saw the riders coming on.

Outriders came first to assuage worry that it was a raid, and the gates were opened. By the time the bulk of the force arrived, women and children had come out and gathered in a crowd to see what due Soghain had paid to see the injury done to them redressed.

There were shouts of happy reunion as families saw their husbands, brothers, and other kin return to them. But there was also a gasp of shock as their lord rode in with one arm in a sling, Gowan, Tiernan, and the other high men of the clan riding in a vanguard about him.

Magnus raised his good hand for attention and silence fell, "My clan, my kinsmen! The insult done us and the gods is repaid! We met the O'Banion men who had been our treacherous guests and those who had come to meet and reinforce them." There were a few cheers but he again raised his hand for quiet. "We met them, and a general fray was building, but wiser council prevailed," his eyes slid to the dark haired young noble who would be his son-in-law, "and war was stopped by a meeting of champions."

There was a buzz of talk and whispering immediately, though it cut off anew as Magnus raised his hand again. "I met Bron O'Banion on the field of honor for this trespass." That had been a disagreement; both Tiernan and his father had asked to be the clan's champion but once he had seen that Bron was the foe, Magnus would not be denied. "We fought for a time and I had the best of him, though my shield was splintered by his might and my arm suffered from the blow. Bron now rests with his fathers and his heir has declared that the duel was a fair one and no vengeance will be taken."

There are another stir at that. Officially that was fine, but all knew that passions could erase that in the hearts of the O'Banion clan. Peace may exist now, but what would come in the next months or year?

Tiernan glanced at Magnus, who nodded, and then spoke up to the surprise of many, "Beltine draws to a close and it should not go unmarked. The king's would will be tended, but he asks that we celebrate the favor and plenty of the gods. Let the fires burn bright, and the food made for this feast not go to spoil for the deeds of our churlish neighbors. Let music be struck and dancing done, eat and drink to our victory and to the blessing of the gods that is among us!"

There was a cheer and the people began to move and break apart, the riders going home to set arms aside before returning while the others moved to spark the revelry that many thought would not take place after today's events.


Magnus winced as the healer tended to the cut in his forearm; cleaning it carefully before binding it with a poultice of healing herbs, "Strange deeds done this day, indeed," he mused.

"Strange indeed," Kynthelig answered. The druid had appeared beside Magnus as he was being tended and recounted the events as Aine had told them. "We have cast auguries and used all our powers to draw out what fate and wisdom may await in them."

Tiernan shifted as he sat near Aine at the table, his eyes resting on the druid. He raised a brow but did not speak.

The old man's lips flickered into a faint smile and then he looked grim. "Our signs are...not yet clear. Many are conflicting. It may take more time to divine the will of the gods in this." He raised a hand, "Be assured we will continue our seeking, for one clear thing is that this is a matter of import to man and god alike."

The old druid then stood, "Aine, walk me to the door." He couldn't help but notice the way the girl was looking at him. She clearly wanted to speak with him and do so away from the others.

Aine nor her mother were in a mood to continue any celebrations.Not until Magnus was seen to and they were assured all was well.

She sat at the table across from her father as he was being tended, and next Tiernan. She looked at the druid when he spoke. "'Tis a matter of import to me." She said a bit petulantly. "Forget man and god, The Morrigan sent a sign that slowed the O'Banions to me."

Her mother looked sharply at her. She closed her mouth when the druid asked her to walk with him. She walked round the table to kiss her father. She gave Tiernan a little nod. She had not been able to thank him for returning her father safely.

Once Aine and the druid were out of earshoot, she spoke up again. "Kynthelig, you were the one who told me the Goddess wanted me for her vessel. Then the Morrigan sent her crows to protect me from the O'Banions. What have you seen that you are not telling? I saw your hesitation. What do you know?" She pleaded and took his forearm in her hands.

She frowned and another thought struck her. "If you knew beforehand that the Goddess chose me...Did you know of the God's choice as well?"

((Do you have any answers for Aine or shall I think of something?))

"I am not your father, nor am I your mother, or your betrothed; all of whom seem far more caring about you than you thought when we spoke before your handfasting; though little it seems to matter to you." The words were low, meant for her ears alone, but all the same they were crisp and sharply said.

Kynthelig turned slowly, drawn up to his full height to look down at Aine with cold fire in his eyes. "You may snap at them as though you were a bare foot girl, unmannered and unlearned, but take greater care of your words with me."

"You have brushed the world of the gods, but I walk in it and peer into it every day. I have seen terrors that would blanch your fiery locks white with a glance and stared into them to learn their truth. Speak not to me lightly or with a churlish tone again. Should the fate the gods have planned for you be a dire one, my power and that of my brothers, may be all that can save you. Mind that."

After a few moments of silence, he then went on, and his tone was more normal. "I do know the God's choice. It was I who went to him as I did to you. But it has not been told to me to reveal that to you, and until it is, I will not. Secret, ever, has that been kept, for all the times of our people, unless divine will countermands the tradition. And it is not yet so, though it may be."

"As for what we know, the signs are clear that the gods have something great planned for Clan, something to come to pass within your lifetime. It also seems that it will involve you and one other; a man. But that is all that is sure now." He paused, "Think on it, but not with pride or arrogance. We know that what will come will be great, but a great good or a great evil...that is not yet clear."

The tall, white haired man turned to go, "A moment more I will spare for any questions you have but speak quickly and with care. For though you see only yourself in this, my eyes have seen the fates of hundreds entwined. Much must be done to see the truth of it, and time may not be ours to choose. Speak now, if you will!"

Aine opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again and looked contrite. It would not do to anger the one person who might have answers for her.

She swallowed. Why would the gods save her from the O'Banions only to throw her to a worse fate?

She listened to the old druid, hanging on every word. A great good, or great evil involving a man and herself...Could it be the one who was the God's vessel? It must be, for he was chosen as well. Then what did that mean for Tiernan and herself? Would something happen to Tiernan? Then she would be reunited with the God's vessel? She was beginning to have an inkling of what Kynthelig meant of hundreds of fates intertwined.

"I have only one question. How will I know what the gods want me to do when the time comes? Will you--Can you help me see the path to take?" That was two questions, but they were related.

Kynthelig paused a few moments before speaking. She had not apologized for her rudeness; something that galled him still but she was being at least respectful now.

He tilted his head to one side, "One I said, and so one will I answer. When the time comes, what will be done is likely what your nature would encourage you to do. The gods are in all of our hearts, listen to your heart and your conscience, and that will be fate's choice."

With that he turned away from her, "Your second question I must consider. That I can aid you is assured; that I will and the extent of that aid must yet be determined. I encourage you to reflect on your manners while I do so."

"Tell your father and mother, and your betrothed as well, that I may come to them soon, and in secret. Expect me at any time, for I do not know when yet the signs will become clear."

The old man said no more but made his exit, striding out of the door and into the gathering twilight. For several perhaps a minute he could be seen walking into the gloom that was pierced only by the rising pillars of flame of the Beltine fires. Then two men carrying a spitted hind walked between those in the house and the druid; when they passed there was no sign of him.

Aine bit back a retort. She was the one the gods had chosen. She was the one who's decision and fate could affect the clan for generations. How could Kynthelig chide her for her manners just now? Her nerves were rubbed raw.

But he was a channel to knowing what the gods willed. It would not do to anger him.

She frowned. What could the druid have to say to her parents and Tiernan that required secrecy? From the rest of the clan perhaps, but not from her. She was the hinge on which Fate was hanging.

Cursed druids and their enigmatic pronouncements. Why did he need to speak to Tiernan? She twisted her fingers as she walked back to the table.

"Kynthelig has left to consider the signs once again. He asked me to tell you that me may come to any or each of you. He said it would be in secret. He did not say why it must be thus." She plopped into her chair and sipped the soft mead. "I had hoped he would have more to say for only my ears, but he only spoke like a druid." She made a face. "I do not want this fate resting on my shoulders and the old man did nothing to help me face it." She was weary in her mind but not in body and fidgeted with her dress.

It was clear to her Tiernan figured in this in some way, but how? Was his fate to be married to hers? Or perhaps he would be asked to step aside because her fate led on a path with someone else? The someone who had been the God's vessel. That could be it. The god's had chosen both of them. Now more than ever she wanted to know who her masked lover had been.

Tiernan frowned, "I think it not strange that he spoke to you as a druid, for you seem to need reminded that he is one." Perhaps her nerves or fright from earlier had gotten the best of her but antagonizing the druids was not wise. Aine thought herself high, he knew this, but he had never known her to be so curt or demanding of one of the holy men before. "Help is like love, best when given, looked at ill when demanded."

Would this fate on her make her truly arrogant? Time would tell and he would hope otherwise; a more prideful Aine was not an encouraging thought.

"Whether this fate is yours alone to decide is not yet known." He shook his head and then reached out to lay a hand on one of hers. "But for my part, I will do what I may to help you bear it. The acts of the gods are beyond our control, let us bend our own to the best."

Magnus rose to his feet, "It may also be, daughter mine, that as head of our clan, the druid might speak to me of matters that will shape it." His tone was mild and kind but there was a slight rebuke in his eyes. "But your husband to be is right. We cannot divine the will of the gods ourselves and fretting will do naught but wear us. And what is best now for me is rest; and for you as well, Aine. To bed with us both."

Tiernan rose as well after giving Aine's hand a squeeze, "Sleep mends best, 'tis said." The young noble's eyes were troubled but his face was schooled into an expression of calm confidence. "I'll look in on the festivities to make sure all is apace in your stead; with all that has gone on, the finish of this holy time should be attended to."

Magnus paused a moment and then nodded, "Do so, and give me tidings and blessings to those revelers gathered, lad." He glanced at the fiery headed girl at the table, the one on whom all this madness had centered. "I will offer my own in the quiet of night for my treasure's safe return."

Muireen moved around the table to her daughter, "Up and to bed then, my heart." She looked to Tiernan, "You have proven our choice wise today, son to be."

Tiernan bowed to her, to the king, and straightening, inclined his head to Aine. "The praise of the praise worthy is the best reward, and the happiness of two such women a worth end to any toil. Until the next day, fare well."

Aine wanted to scream at everyone. They did not understand. Not her mother, not her father, not Tiernan, and especially not Kynthelig.

Everyone was chiding her. She forced herself not to pout. She was a woman now and one with the eyes of the gods upon her.

She had to give Tiernan credit, he was trying so hard and she was being churlish in return. The gods had chosen her, she must act worthy even if she did not feel it.

"No. I will not go to bed." She told them. "I am too agitated to sleep. And I think the clan should see that I am well." She stood up from the table and drained her mead. "I should be seen at Tiernan's side." She had neglected him much over the last few days. Had her plan been to make him jealous? It did seem that he more feelings for her than she had thought.

"A dance or two may be just what I need to work the last of the O'Banions' drug from my body." She went to Tiernan and took his arm. She put on a smile.

((If you had plans for Tiernan without Aine around, just have her father put his foot down and she'll go to bed and not be happy about it.))

((No problem at all! I'm interested to see what you and Aine have in mind for this!))

Tiernan was unsure that being in a press of people with loud noise and rapid motion, with the possibility of being passed from partner to partner in a dance would be good for Aine's nerves after the day she'd had. A screaming or crying fit was not a good way to end Beltine. Yet she was made of sterner stuff that many would have believed.

She was also correct about the impact that seeing her at the festival would make on the clansmen. Her spirits bright and unbowed, out among them, would make the others feel sure and safe. With her abduction and the king's wound, there was much that could color the festivities with gray worry otherwise.

He and Magnus exchanged a long look and then the older man gave a slight nod, barely noticeable. Tiernan did much the same and then quirked his brows, "We'll not dance as late as many of the revelers then, but a turn or two will do no harm, and welcome sights and sounds may do well for all."

Muireen looked a bit mutinous, but then nodded, "With you Tiernan, I'll have no worry." Well, little worry. "But I'll expect her returned to us before dawning."

The young noble gave a shallow bow, "I've returned her once today, twice will be easier still. By your leave, then."

The two young people went out of the house then, into the revelry of Beltine. The fires burned bright and music played, but there was a cautious, troubled air that seemed to mute both. Though man and woman alike smiled and sang, their eyes were not wholly in it, and many cast glances either away north or to the house of the king.

But those looking that way then saw the two lovely young people approaching, and some gave cheers or waved. Tiernan felt awkward but smiled and raised a hand in greeting, Aine radiantly beautiful and smiling beside him.

How could she make herself smile like that? It was an impressive skill.

"Thank you for the welcome, friends and kinsman," he said as the couple drew into the celebration itself. "We've much to cheer for this eve, let the fires burn bright and our spirits with them."

((I'm not really sure, but Aine insisted that she was not just going to go up to bed on the last night of Beltaine.))

"I expect I will tire long before the fires burn down." Aine assured her mother.

She took Tiernan's arm and left the hall. She immediately felt more energized which convinced her that this was the right decision.

She laughed and pulled Tiernan towards the dancers. She was willing herself to be caught up in the flow of this last night of Beltaine.

She hugged many as she passed through the crowd as they welcomed her back, happy to see her safe.

She tugged Tiernan into the spiral dance. She acknowledged those that she passed as the dancers wound around tighter and tighter and then back around over and over again. The music lifted her spirits and she felt that all would be well. She forgot the burden the gods had put upon her and enjoyed the moment of joy. Joy in her young body, joy in being with her kin and clan. She even found herself smiling and laughing with Tiernan when she took a misstep on his foot, or stumbled a little as the dance sped up and he lifted her as if she were a feather.

Indeed, she felt light as thistledown. She would worry about what destiny the gods had for her on the morrow. Tonight she would simply enjoy the singing and the dancing and the antics of her clan.

The spiral dance broke up as the music changed. Women formed a line on one side and men on the other. The dance was a type of reel with partners changing, everyone laughing. She thought again of her Beltaine lover and sized up each new partner. A few seemed possibilities, but she still could not tell. The dance finished with her back in Tiernan's arms.

"I am thirsty after the dancing." She said glowing with vitality, nothing to mark what she had been through. She leaned on him a little to catch her breath.

Aine continued to surprise him. So much so that perhaps he had to acknowledge that he may never have properly known her.

Her smiles and laughter were clear, ringing, and honest. She hugged and thanked well wishers and tugged him into the dancing with that same smile on her face.

Tiernan found himself feel both buoyed and melancholy about it; a bright and pretty smile it was but it was not for him, nor was it ever like to be. Still, her merriment could not be stilled and he found it infecting him. They danced together as if it were something they'd done many times before, only an occasional stumble of misplaced step.

The next dance was one of moving lines and trading partners, and he handed off Aine and rolled her pretty Siobhan into his arms for the next few steps, he noted how the chief's daughter was regarding the man she turned with now. Her eyes were measuring and speculative, then dismissive and openly merry. The change was brief, only a few moments, but he saw it all the same.

What was she doing? Trying to decide who she would have a last Beltine fling with? Determining who she would take as a lover after their marriage? None of the thoughts were comforting. By the time Aine came back to his arms, laughing and beaming, Tiernan felt little merriment in his heart.

Though she was happy, and that was worth something. She leaned on him and he took a bold step in slipping an arm about her waist, "Then let us slake your thirst so we may turn about at least once more. Never have I seen a lass so eager and happy at the dance, and it does our hearts good for it." Most of their hearts.

He steered her over and they took a draught of water and then dipped the same cups into a cask of ale broached just that night. Tiernan tapped his earthen cup to hers, "Your father's health, and your happiness," and drained the cup in one long pull.

That was good. It tasted like more.

Which meant he should probably get away from it. Getting drunk was not wise.

"How now, Aine? Ready for more or shall we rest a bit longer before returning to the celebration?"

Aine truly did feel happy. The merriment of the night infected her. If the gods had some terrible fate in store for her, all the more reason for her to enjoy herself now. This could also be her only chance to find her Beltaine lover. The not knowing was what made her so curious to know. She decided she would put the quest aside, or try to. She would be Tiernan's wife if that's what the gods wished of her. She could be content with that. She must be content with that.

"And yours." Aine responded to Tiernan's toast. She drank deeply but not so much as Tiernan. She smiled up at him, "I would dance until the sun comes up."

Uallas* O'Taidhg came to the keg and refilled his mug. "Good to have you back, Aine." He beamed at her. "We taught those O'Banions a lesson."

She stepped away from Tiernan's arm to get closer to Uallas. She gave him a hug, "And I thank you for it." She sized him up quickly, but it was clear he was far too tall and lanky to be the one she was looking for.

She stepped back to Tiernan. "Ready for more dancing?"

_____________
*Wallace

Was it honest feeling or simple rote in her reply to his toast? It mattered little either way, he supposed. Her determination to dance through the night was so earnest and cheery that even his serious mood could not hold for the moment and he grinned, "Until the sun rises, is it? Well, so mote it be then, though I will have you home before the sun is full in the sky or else be made false to your mother."

In truth, he was not overly concerned with that but still he didn't want to be faithless either. Muireen would not begrudge them the celebration in either event; indeed, she would likely be pleased that Aine was seeming to come around more on the subject of their marriage.

Perhaps he was being dour. This had been a trying day but a good one for the clan, for Aine, even for him.

Though it remained hard to feel that way as Aine inspected each man she embraced. Uallas was tall and lean and their hug was friendly and seemed nothing more but again he noticed that she looked him over head to toe with that considering gleam in her eye.

His grip tightened on his mug and he had a brief, foolish desire to crack it over the other man's head. Instead he simple half filled his mug and took another drink. It was good ale, and it helped to make him feel less grim about what may come to pass.

"If you're rested enough then, Aine, let us return to the revelry. We wouldn't want to miss too many dances if we're to do so until dawn."

Aine put her arm around Tiernan as they walked. She was warm and tingly from the mead. Much different from the otherworldly feeling she had gotten from the Druid's brew that first night of Beltaine.

Her fingers were very sensitive. She enjoyed the feel of his shirt against her hand. Was thing one of the ones she had made for him? She stopped herself from petting the fabric. She was a little drunk.

"You should smile, Tiernan. 'Tis the last night of Beltaine. Everyone is dancing. The O'Banions have been put in their place--" She stopped as something occurred to her. "Oh, Tiernan. I am sorry. You are thinking about those we lost today and I have been forcing you to dance gigs."

"We do not have to stay if your heart is not in it." She did want to stay. But her realization about what might be causing Tiernan to be less festive made her pause. She was not cold-hearted, as much as other might say so.

There was some compassion in her, however well hidden it seemed at times. He hadn't doubted it, really, but it was still pleasant to see. Tiernan paused; he had not thought of the dead. But men had died. Indeed, he had killed a man himself.

His eyes were troubled and he moved to take the hand that had been stroking his chest in his own, giving it a squeeze. "No, Aine. Let us stay and make merry. The fallen will be honored in time, and I will think on the man I killed, but all that is for later. I want to celebrate this Beltine with you tonight and find what happiness I may from it, and your company."

He raised his hand and kissed it. "Let us dance. It will do my heart good to remember that there is ample reason to be joyous. My own sorrows are selfish things and I ought not indulge them now."

Tiernan then took a breath and led her out among the others, among the music and the song. He was a serious man by nature; celebration was not disliked but it was difficult to engage in when he had found something to worry on. And he had many issues to consider that were darksome and grim.

But tonight, he would make himself dance and maybe sing, and not let Aine's spirits be dampened by his worries.

Aine's mood lightened again. "Then I sall make a dancer of you yet. She drained her mug and set it down then grabbed his hand and pulled Tiernan into the ring of dancers once more.

They danced for a long time. Aine still tried to take the measure of every young man she danced with, or stood next to. And still none seemed to match her memory of the God's vessel. Could it be that the God himself came to her? No. She was not so vain as to think of such a thing. But the gods did take mortal lovers. It was not impossible.

Finally, a group of them all tired at once and collapsed around the logs set out from the bonfires for any and all to sit on or recline against. She had been dancing with Tiernan again. He was her betrothed, and he had saved her from the horrors the O'Banions had threatened her with. She made sure she always came back to Tiernan.

They sat side by side, he resting against the log with his legs outstretched. She against him with her legs at an angle. Her skirts were in a tussle showing her legs from the knees down. Not that she cared, some of the girls were wearing far less by this point. She found herself stroking the fabric of his shirt again, rubbing it between her fingers. She did become rather 'handsy' when drunk. And she was drunk, but not so much that it would pain her in the morning. It was a warm pleasant feeling that despite everything, all was right with the world.

"You should take me home." She said into his chest, But she made no move to stand. With her weight against him like this, Tiernan would have to physically move her if he wanted to do as she said. She drew spirals and circles with her finger n his shirt and then on his bare skin where the shirt gaped open.

He'd had fun despite himself. Perhaps it was Aine's sheer force of will to enjoy the night or the magic of Beltine itself but he had. Even with all on his mind, with all the dark things he could see ahead for him, this night had been joyous and happy.

Tiernan wasn't sure he wanted it to end. How many happy nights would he have ahead of him in times to come?

He slid an arm about his redheaded bride to be as she leaned against him; her soft, warm fingers poking at his chest and drawing aimlessly at his shirt or on his skin. Oh, the feel of her touch in those moments! How he wondered what it would be like to feel her touch more fully, more directly!

At her partly muffled words, he grinned, "I should," he agreed. "But I don't want to." He tipped her chin up gently but firmly and looked down into her merrily drunk eyes. Then he lowered his face to hers and kissed her; sweet and warm were her lips and he held hers in delicious captivity for long moments, the kiss more heated, more eager, more wanting with each passing heartbeat.

He broke it then and drew back a bare inch, "I want to take you to some pretty place I know and lay you there to feel your kisses the night through," he breathed. "To celebrate and worship and enjoy you, and I, to be with you and give you such happiness as to make you cry to the heavens."

He did want to be with her tonight; to make love to her with all his skill and all his effort. To make this end of Beltine something good; to show her that their marriage need not be joyless.

"But...I am not the one you've chosen or the one you look for," he said after a pause. "I know this." She'd looked over and measured each man and a few twice and he became aware she wasn't trying to gauge them now but trying to measure them against something or someone else. Likely whoever she was with that first night of Beltine when the druid's wine made fools of their senses. "And we are not yet wed, so it must not yet be, if against your wishes. So. I will then take you home."

Tiernan moved to kneel beside her, one arm still about her waist, the other sliding beneath her prettily exposed knees. He stood and lifted her as easily as if she were a babe and held her to him. "So light you are!" And yet so heavy at once. "Let us be off then."

Aine put her arms around Tiernan and responded to his kiss. She lost herself in it. The mead, the dancing, Beltaine, she had lost herself in all of it. Tiernan had never spoken such sweet words to her. None of the youths had ever spoken to her like that. She wanted to go with him to his 'pretty place.' She wanted to feel him move inside her. She would forget her foolish notion of trying to find her Beltaine lover. None of the men in the clan seemed to fit her memory. The druid's draught was potent. It was useless to chase a shadow. She was to marry Tiernan whom all the girls desired.

She was about to tell him, "Yes, yes. Take me there. Lay me on the ground with naught between me and the sky but you."

Then he spoke again and the spell was broken. She was angry at herself for being so obvious in her search and angry at Tiernan for saying that he knew. And even angrier that he had broken the closeness that had grown between them. Would he always vex her thus?

Then he scooped her up to carry her home. "Put me down, Tiernan. Put me down!" She pushed at him with her small fists. Memories of Ian O'Banion holding her captive on his horse flooded back to her. It made her angrier still.

Tiernan set Aine down before he dropped her. She stood defiant and glared up at him. The light of the bonfire behind her made a nimbus around her.

"Neither of us has chosen the other. But we do what we must for our clan. You have said the truth, you are not the one I look for. The druid's potion was too strong. I remember little, but I remember enough. But you will be my husband and the father of my children and so it shall be. I will put aside my memories of this Beltaine and be your wife. But not tonight, Tiernan."

Aine turned on her heel and began walking back to her father's house.

Tiernan watched her walk for a moments; his face utterly baffled. What...what in the gods' names had just happened? She was angry now! Was he not courteous? Was he not acknowledging her reluctance and dislike of him? Would it be better to have forced her to take him like a beast?

Fury rose in him swiftly and he almost let out an audible snarl. After this day, after he had killed for her, after he had...damn her!

He stalked after her. Though he wanted to rid himself of her presence for the night, he had promised he would see her home safely. He did not speak to her, easily able to catch up with his longer stride, but walked alongside.

His hands were tightened into white knuckled fists by the time they reached her father's house and his jaw clenched so hard it felt as it it would chip and crack from the strain. "Home safe, as I promised you and your parents," he said, speaking for the first time since they left the fires.

He wanted to say more. He wanted to ask, to demand, why she was now so angry with him. To know what he had done to get this response. But it was pointless. He had tried to ask her before and he remembered her answer, "If I have to explain it, you'll never understand." How was he to know otherwise?

"Rest well," he said, his words clipped and sharp, almost bitten out of the air. "I pray your night is better than this day." Rage and frustration were in his eyes as he looked to her and then inclined his head before turning and walking away with a tense, stiff bearing.

Aine's heart thumped in her chest and her chest rose and fell with her breathing. She wanted to smack Tiernan. To pound him. To take all of her anger and frustration out on him.

Every time her heart softened to him, the oaf said something that cause her ire to rise so swiftly she scarce could believe anyone could make her so angry.

She did not answer Tiernan although she thought of many biting things she could say. What good would it do except widen the rift between them. Again. Let him go off by himself, or to find to spend this last night of Beltaine with. They would wed soon and she would have to accept him into her bed. Her heart thumped faster. She should have held her tongue. Tiernan could ensure that her wedding night and every night after brought no joy to her. Worse thoughts lept into her head.

She climbed the steps. If Tiernan did choose to take his anger out on her, she would tell her father. Magnus would not let anyone hurt his daughter.

She went to her room and took off her clothes happy that the servants were all enjoying the last night of Beltaine and she could be alone with her thoughts. What a day. It seemed like it had lasted from moon to moon.

She laid on her bed and watched the moon through her window and asked it why. Why did every conversation with Tiernan leave them both angry? Why did one or the other of them always say something that scraped to the bone?

"Brigid, help me to be a good wife and accept Tiernan as my husband. I know he is a good man and strong and father chose him for me. But please, stop him from saying things that annoy me so much that I could spit fire." She rolled over. "Blessed be."

Tiernan walked home more or less in silence. He passed a few revelers who were either on their way back to the fires or slipping off with others to enjoy each other in the dark and offered acknowledgments and well wishes to those who offered them but little else. It was a shame, really. He enjoyed Beltaine every year and looked forward to it but after this...he dreaded the thought that Beltaine would come again and he'd have to think about all this. The entire festival had been an ordeal that he just wanted to end. It was not a fitting way to think of a holy time but that was his mind now. From the trouble with the O'Banions, to Aine's hot and cold affections, her obvious seeking a man other than her, the pressing weight of the future of the clan, building their house, the strange fate on his woman he'd be wedded to despite her refusal to accept him or their inability to get along, it had been miserable.

To hell with it. To hell with it all; the gods, the clan, Aine, all of it.

He sighed and paused at the gate to his family's home. The worst of it was his relationship with Aine. It was turbulent, volatile and made no sense to him at all. He didn't understand why she got so angry when he thought he was being kind or accepting. He didn't understand why his efforts to try and meet her halfway were rebuffed for reasons he could not fathom. It was confusing and frustrating. He wanted this to work out well. He wanted them to be happy in their life together, if not overjoyed. But now it seemed doomed.

He watched the moon for a time, leaning against the wall and trying to work any of it out in his mind. Why had she gotten so angry with what he said? What she was doing was obvious. Was it wrong to talk about it? Perhaps it was embarrassment; perhaps that he was supposed to ignore it? Her pride was all well and good but he would not let her make a fool of him. He was no one's fool. She could try to pick out her second husbands or her lovers but he would refuse to let her do so under his nose and not say anything.

Her pride was all that mattered to her, it seemed, but she gave his no heed or worth.

He sighed again and tipped his head back against the cool wood of the walls. He was tired. In his mind's eye, he saw the man he killed lying in the dirt road and bleeding out in a deep pool of dark crimson. He saw his kinsmen who had been injured in her rescue; knowing not whether they would heal or their hurts would grow bad and slay them.

Perhaps he could feel different on the morrow. But now he was simply tired of sacrificing to try and get close to a girl who wished to give nothing herself. Tiernan leaned off of the wall and headed towards the house. Sleep was the only respite from this he would have.

Rose came out of the darkness, "Well met, Tiernan. Your cousin, Bran, brought me all this way from the fires and then fell asleep." She laughed. She looked a bit disheveled.

"'Tis the last night of Beltaine, no one should be alone." She sauntered closer, her eyes glinted in invitation. She stood very close to Tiernan. "I expect you have had a long day. I could help you forget about it." She stepped closer so that she was almost touching him.

((Reject her or go for it and then I guess we should move on and talk about what next, or just hump closer to the handfasting.))