Immortal Love

She raised a brow at his words but said nothing. Walking closer to the bow she studied the lands before her almost puzzled and intrigued.

Witches ghosts and mad men...

She muttered softly.

They threw anchor not too far from an inlet, they were lowered with a rowboat and rowed to the shore, Deacon shook hands with the captain and the boat departed along with a good sum of money from Deacon to them. He turned to the hills and a grin came over his face,

"This is my home Samira, already she is calling to me."

She pulled to cloak tight around her as she glanced around though drawn in more by the smile she saw gracing his lips.

I am glad we could make our way here Deacon.

It was cold but not as cold as Russia. She studied the area around them carefully.

Where do we go now Deacon?

"To my home!"

He felt strangely cheerful, like all the years that had passed since he had left, had not passed at all. He slung his bags over his shoulders, picked up two of Samira's and grinned at her,

"Better get ready lass, when the sun shines on these valleys and hills you will lose your heart."

He strode off, careful not to walk out under her, but barely containing his excitement.

She picked up the last of her things and walked along attempting to follow him as she smiled at his words and seeing him this happy she found herself wanting to be happy here too.

Lead the way Deacon. I hope this place is as accepting of someone as foreign as I am as you seem to think I will be of it.

"Not at first, but it will be because you don't know eachother, but when you get to know eachother, you will be accepted."

They reached the top of a hill and he smiled as he surveyed the landscape,



"This is the green I have told you of so long ago Samira."

She looked out over the land but curled in closer to him pulling her cloak tight.

I hope you are right Deacon.

She closed her eyes feeling a little better with him close to her.

He chuckled,

"You will see, come along dear, not too far, I can see the smoke of the first village, we can get a horse there to carry our baggage."

He started off again, leading the way.

Nodding she kept walking with him. This traveling was nothing new but this time it was certainly different it was his homeland she was not fully sure what to expect with all she had seen of him.

It was a few hours later when they reached the little town, the sun was rising and with it the mist was lifting a little bit. As they entered the town various people was already scuttling about, getting ready for the day, they paused, curious about the newcomers to their little town. Deacon addressed an elderly woman who was holding a covered wooden bowl,

"Bos días, estamos a buscar para contratar un cabalo para levar para as MacFrosts." (Good morning we are looking to hire a horse to take us to the MacFrosts)

The old woman said nothing for a few moments and then replied,

"E quen está preguntando?" (And who is asking ?)

Deacon grinned,

"Diácono MacFrost, fillo de Alistair MacFrost, retornando da súa soldado nas outras terras alén-mar." (Deacon MacFrost, son of Alistair MacFrost, returning from his soldiering in the other lands across the sea.)

The old woman seemed taken aback, she blinked and then stared closely at Deacon,

"Eu era unha nena cando Deacon MacFrost esquerda, que parece só uns anos maior que el." (I was a young girl when Deacon MacFrost left, you seem only a few years older than him.)

Deacon stepped closer to her,

"Eu non son pantasma, nin espírito, eu son o home que eu dixen que eu son, eu son máis agora que eu era." (I am no ghost, nor spirit, I am the man I said I am, I am more now than what I was.)

He studied her for a few moments,

"Vostede é filla do moleiro, Catherine. Vou ter que Yurgh vello non é o máis estable máis." (You're the miller's daughter, Catherine. I will take that old Yurgh is not the stabler anymore.)

The old woman recoiled slightly,

"You speak of names of years passed like they were only yesteryear, I am a daughter no longer, a grandmother indeed. If you wish for a horse, go to Yurgh's, he lives no longer, but his grandson still stables horses."

Deacon bowed his head,

"Lamento perturbar-lle Catherine, pero grazas a vostede eo seu destino pode día ben." (I am sorry to upset you Catherine, but thank you and may your day fate well.)

Deacon glanced at Samira and smiled,

"It seems like I'm an old tale to the older people, you will be more welcome than me."

He chuckled and led the way to the livery.

She just stood back biting her lip wondering what they were saying but simply waited. She smiled to the lady that spoke to him and then to Deacon and nodded at his chuckle with a smile though no idea what was so funny.

As they walked to the livery more people stopped and stared, more out of curiosity than out of hostility.

"She remembered me, but when she last saw me she was a little girl, of course with me looking just a few years older since then she first thought me to be an ghost or spirit."

They got to the Livery and Deacon got them a horse to carry the baggage.

She glanced through the horses and noted the interesting differences in those here and the Arabian horses of her homeland. The horses seemed friendly enough sniffing at her and a couple of them nuzzling against her hand.

They seem thicker than the Desert ponies

"Yes they are, they are bred to carry or pull heavy loads over the hills and through marshes so they are very strong, but as you can see, they are also friendly. We like them mild mannered, unlike the most woman-folk"

He chuckled and paid for the use of a horse which would be returned as soon as possible, he tied their baggage onto the horse, thanked the man and led the horse out and struck out of town.

"We should be there just after noon, so what do you think of my island so far?"

You were right it is very green. The people seem nice enough and the horses as well.

She smiled as they walked along. She kept glancing around at the trees and animals and the stray person here and there in fields.

It was strange to see him town after all these years, only it had grown considerably in his absence and he took a while to look over the new contours and buildings, but what still stood was his family's dun and from the smoke drifting up from it, it was certain that his family still lived in the town. He gave Samira a smile,

"Well this is where I grew up, it has grown quite a bit since I left, but I'm certain that with the right words we will be very welcome here."

She looked around at the village and smiled a little. She saw a few people watching them and tried to be nice and wave but moved closer to Deacon still a little overwhelmed and unsure.

He greeted the people they came across, he moved towards the house that had belonged to his family for ages. At the gates they were met by a stableboy, Deacon spoke to him in Gaelic and the boy moved away to find whomever Deacon asked him to fetch, he smiled at Samira and slipped a ring onto his hand, holding it for her to see.

"A little heirloom I held on to, it gets handed down through the generations, think this will be a shocker for them."

She looked at the ring for a moment.

So you seek to fully shock people... you travel with me and now this ring you wear... how long have you been gone from this place Deacon

He frowned and counted on his fingers, looking up at her in deep thought for a while,

"Sixty years?"

You do not look that old... strange...

She fell silent when people began moving towards them

He chuckled,

"Because I have spent most of that time by your side."

She tilted her head thinking about that. Wondering how old she now was not that she really remembered any exact birth date but she nodded.

It does not seem that we have been together for so long but perhaps we have.

By now the elders have reached them, along with their aides, Deacon turned to them, greeting them in their own language and then switching to English for Samira's sake.

"I have traveled far and wide and now I have returned to you, my great grandfather's father had handed a ring down to the youngest son, when I left I was the youngest son."

He held up his fist, the ring glinting in the morning rays and there was a collective gasp,

"I have returned and with me I brought a woman from a land or sand and little water. I am her protector and will not go anywhere without her."

He had left out the part of them being cursed for now, he was sure that when they draw a council he will be called in and he would have to explain to them why he looked like he had when he left and had not grown older.

She recoiled slightly when so many men neared them but tried to remain brave standing there watching them still wrapped up tight in the cloak. Nodding as some apparently were greeting her though she did not understand them and looked to Deacon.

What are they saying to us?

Her voice barely above a whisper to him.