Scotland the Brave (closed)

[KieranSoares]

The good people of the northern English clan of Chester had been celebrating all week for the marriage of their princess to the Scottish King Brogan Ghis of the Clan Inverness, thus ending a long and bloody war between the two at the border of civilized England and savage Scotland. It was the first day of the year 500A.D. on the day of their marriage; a new century and new hope. At least, it was new hope for the people, but not the princess herself. The people didn't know that Lord William of Chester had practically traded his daughter for peace, as Clan Inverness refused all other attempts. When Ghis had come to see the Princess of Chester to decide whether or not she was worth ending a thrilling war over, he was attracted to her immediately and signed the treaty there. There were some conditions, though.

If Brogan Ghis was found responsible for the physical harm of the Princess, the treaty would be null and void and Chester and all its allies would attack, as well as much of Southern England looking for an excuse to kill the barbarians.

The day came, Sunday January 7th, when the beloved princess was to leave home to join her husband in the Inverness territory. Thus far, Brogan had not touched her nor even asked her to sleep in his bed. He spent all his time at her side, though, as if defending his claim like some beast. Lord William of Chester awaited his daughter, Brogan beside him, in the courtyard of their small motte-and-bailey keep. This was quite new for Lord William, as he feared being outside very long. He didn't much care for the creatures in the forest beyond, especially the ruthless centaurs.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

Brogan of Inverness

A fine maiden, indeed, untouched, young, and clearly quite pious as a Christian and dutiful to her father. Brogan watched her closely for the week after New Year's Day, learning her habits and her likes and dislikes. He would not touch her, though. To the Christian English, they were married, but to Brogan and his clan, who were worshippers of the Goddess of the Moon, she was not his just yet. He was pious to his own Goddess, and would not break his faith despite urges. He was dressed in his homeland attire after a full week of dressing in English clothing that was far too constricting and stuffy. He stood watching his new wife say her farewells, clad in a long black kilt, under which he wore dark trousers. Most Scots wore nothing under their kilts, but Brogan's clan did. He wore a dark blue tunic- a gift from Isabelle's attending nursemaid who was to be left in Chester now- and had insisted on donning his leather and ring-studded armguard over top. On his belt was a short sword and knife, and on his back was his broad claymore. His dark eyes cast slowly over father and daughter.

"I ain't tryin' to be rude, sir," Brogan spoke up, quelling the majority of his heavy northern accent that Richard had previously been unable to understand. "But there's a storm comin' up in the south, yonder. Ye best get inside, an' I'd like tah get to Edinburgh Clan b'fore it catches us, aye? Don't want me new sweet'eart gettin' drenched." He stood quite calmly with his hands on his hips, and he cut quite an impressive figure. The sky was mostly clear, though, and it seemed he was crazy til the distant rumble of thunder could be heard to the south, where just the leading grey edge of clouds could be seen.

"We ridin' ahead, m'Keng?" One of Brogan's four warriors, who had come with him, asked with a less subdued accent.

"Two o' ya get goin'," Brogan nodded. "Ciaran, Cole, stay 'ere an' ride with me, lads."

"Yes, m'laird," Ciaran answered and Cole nodded. They were twin brothers, broad with short-shorn red hair and beards, scarred faces, and dressed similarly to Brogan but in plaid green kilts and wearing leather guards.

"We'll 'ave th'carriage ready up yonder in Edinburgh's village, m'laird," one of the other two nodded to his king, and he and his partner rode off after giving Richard a required bow of their heads.

"Let's away, m'darlin'," Brogan looked to Isabelle, taking the reins of his horse from Cole.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Spot the difference ...

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

Cole and Ciaran took their positions riding behind Brogan and Isabelle on either side. Brogan rode directly beside Isabelle, his hard, dark eyes set on the road ahead. After fifteen minutes' quick gait, a strong wind caught up with them. "Bloody hell," Brogan growled, "It'll be a sideways rain, lads. We ain't beatin' 'er t'Edinburgh."

"We makin' camp, m'Keng?"

"When the rain's a mile 'hind, we'll stop."

"Yes, sir."

And that was exactly what they did. Two hours out of Chester, Brogan pulled up on his reins. "Pitch a tent, lads."

Both of them looked at him confusedly. "Tent, keng?"

Brogan looked at them as if bored by their lack of thought, "Didn'tcha hear me back in Chester? I ain't lettin' me gel get drenched and sick." Both noted the angry tone and immediately unpacked a canvas and tarp from Cole's saddlebags. Neither quite knew how to set up a tent, though, and paused, confused. They never slept in tents on their travels, and hadn't pitched a tent in their entire lives. "Ah, get th'hell out the way," Brogan growled, using tree branches above to tie up the tarp for a makeshift roof, and below he hung the canvas on a low branch and used makeshift wooden stakes made of broken branches to hold the edges. Over that, he placed a cloak to cover the entrance to allow Isabelle privacy.

"Awful lotta fuss fer an Englander," Cole muttered with a huff, only to get thunked upside the head by Brogan.

"She ain't an Englander anymore. Yer gonna treat 'er like a real Scot lady, ya got it?" Brogan's accent thickened with anger.

"Yes, m'keng..." Cole bowed his head ashamedly.

"An' if I catch either a' you two givin' 'er an 'ard time or makin' 'er unwelcome, I'll feed yer 'ides ta me 'untin' dogs when we're 'ome."

"Yes, sir," they both answered, and went to find a place to sleep out of sight of the makeshift tent.

Brogan looked to Isabelle, speaking to her for the first time since Chester, and he got his accent in check too: "It's not a castle... but it ain't wet ground either." He pulled his own cloak off his horse's saddle and laid it inside the tent to give Isabelle a soft and warm makeshift bedding. It seemed thus far that he intended to take good care of her. "Hungry?" He asked her as he settled on the ground under the edge of the tarp and motioned her to come under it too before the rain began.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

As Brogan dug through his saddlebags for food they'd brought with them, he grunted an answer to her first question: "It ain't that they don't like ya personally, it's the fact they've been taught their entire lives t'hate Englanders. They like ya, really, considering where ya came from. Just... how d'ya put it in Chester... abrasive, is all." He spoke rather plainly and quite emotionlessly, though he didn't seem to mind answering her questions. At her second question, though, he chuckled and an entertained grin crossed his face.

"Inverness ain't nothin' like Chester. Us Scots don't live like you Englanders, especially my people. My people don't spend much time inside, some of 'em don't even have 'ouses just 'cause they don't want 'em or need 'em." He was proving to be rather eloquent for all she knew of Scots. "My 'ome's a stone keep, real simple, don't spend much time in it, though. I spend my time 'untin' and what not with the lads." He scratched his stubbled chin and passed a small bundle to Isabelle. "'ere... somethin' yer maid packed for ya." Inside was a very simple meal, home-made by her nursemaid.

"I warn ya now, m'beauty, Inverness ain't the same kind of civilized as Chester. We do things different there, real different, but the people there'll be real kind t'ya, seeing as yer gonna be my queen." He pulled off his leather armguard and then the tunic he wore. He didn't much care for wearing shirts, but he'd worn this one out of courtesy in England. When he pulled it off, Isabelle was shown the vast number of scars the Scottish Warrior King had accumulated in his 28-year long life. Some were small, but most looked like they'd come from grevious and nearly fatal wounds. The most striking was one she'd only seen the leading edge of. It ran from the left lower edge of his jaw, down his neck and across his heavily-muscled chest and ended just below his ribcage. He also carried a tattoo on the left side of his chest, a great Celtic knotwork design in the form of a sun and its rays, and part of it was cut into a crescent shape, with diamond stars off to the side, representative of the moon.

Around his thick arms were bands of tribal knotwork designs, and, as she'd seen once before, he had a crescent moon on his right palm and a sun on his left. Brogan laid back on the ground, crossing his arms behind his head. "When we get ta Inverness, we'll have ourselves a proper wedding. I agreed to the bloody church and Christian deal fer yer father's sake, elsewise 'e wouldn'a gone through with it."

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Sound familiar?

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

Brogan's dark eyes turned to look up at her, and he seemed about to deny her at first. But he sighed and grunted, "'Course I won't... I jus' don't want t'be part of it m'self." He sat up again as the rain finally came down, and thanks to his clever rigging of the tent, the nearly-sideways rain and heavy wind that came with it was blocked from them by the trees around them and the slanted tarp.

"Hmph," he grunted once more. "C'mon into the tent, it's gonna get real cold soon." He picked himself up and adjusted a corner of the tarp before heading over to the tent himself. It seemed she would be sleeping at her husband's side for the first time. He laid down beneath the canvas, crossing his arms behind his head, awaiting Isabelle.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

"Likely," he half-nodded, then looked up at her once more, thinking. He had a clear look of want for her, but as she was meant to be his wife, he would not take her yet. But that didn't mean they couldn't have a bit of fun. He lifted a hand, his fingers stroking down her arm gently. "Isabelle..." He muttered, the first time he'd actually ever said her name. "... Hm... You've never been with any man, huh?" He let his hand rest on the top of her thigh.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

"Jus' askin'... some lasses 'ave a rebellious streak," he chuckled almost humorlessly at that. He sat up and his arm wrapped around her waist, "C'mere, darlin'," He pulled her in close to his side, and, testing the waters to see her reaction, he placed a light but searing kiss just beneath the line of her jaw and ear. He slowly laid her back on the fur cloak, looking down upon her like a wolf upon his prey.

"Never even been touched..." He muttered with a small smirk to himself.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

"Some lasses 'round South Scotland ain't so chaste, but Nothern beauties're a little better." He leaned down and kissed her tender neck, just beside her throat as his fingers trailed down the opposite side of her neck to her shoulder. "I'll show ya a little bit o' what yer missin', darlin'." He slid both hands beneath her, and without having to sit her up, he easily unlaced the back of her dress. He wanted to get out just a little bit of the lust that'd built up after spending so much time around a beautiful girl that was meant to be his soon.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

Brogan seemed to enjoy more and more her reactions and her racing heart. But he didn't intend to consumate their marriage til they were married by his standards, this moment was entirely for his entertainment and to show her exactly what she was getting herself into.

Sliding away her dress, Brogan also made quick work of her undergarments. Soon, she was laid bare before him, and Brogan cast his eyes over her with quite a bit of satisfaction. But he didn't say a word, leaning down to kiss further down her neck and to her now-bare collar and chest. One of his calloused hands came up to cup her breast lightly at first, gauging her reaction. He honestly wanted to see if she was as dutiful to him as he believed she'd be.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

Brogan, though twice if not three times her size, was incredibly gentle with her. His weather-darkened skin was of huge contrast to hers as much as wool was contrasted to perfect silk. In that deep, rumbling thunder-like voice, he commented quietly: "... Flawless." He still had his accent in check when he mused further: "You're absolutely gorgeous..." It wasn't really a compliment as much as it was simple fact, though he still attempted to flatter her a small bit to open her to his advances willingly. He would take resistance with a great amount of enjoyment, though, just not yet.

Brogan's lips trailed down her chest, and before she knew it, they met one of buds atop her breasts. Still massaging the other with a calloused hand, his lips closed around it and he sucked upon it ever so gently before teasing it with his tongue. He gave the other the same treatment, but did not linger long. His kisses trailed further down, enjoying her perfect skin immensely. Both his hands came to rest on her thighs when his kisses reached just below her waistline. He sat back to admire her briefly before his eyes trailed back down to the curve of her hips, and to the previously unfound secret between her thighs. He leaned back down, pressing a searing kiss to her neck, and she felt his hands slowly part her legs, just enough to allow one huge hand between. Two fingers met the petals of her untouched blossom, stroking slowly up and down, stimulating her body to react.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

:caning:

 

[KieranSoares]

The sound of her moans only encouraged Brogan further as he grinned to himself amusedly, letting his lips attend to her neck and shoulders while he pressed one finger just barely through her entrance, but he drew back right away and stroked upward til he found the extremely sensitive bundle of nerves above. He massaged slow, deliberate circles around it. His breath was hot against her neck as he asked in that thick accent: "'ow's that feel, darlin'?"

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

For readers - an alternative version

 

[KieranSoares]

I'm sorry that you feel that way. All I'll say is that I only use the same idea more than once because I enjoy seeing how different people take it and run with it. Ghis would not have been the same as Scotland the Brave, but I see that this isn't going to work.