Post by Lord Iain Robertson on Feb 10, 2009 12:43:53 GMT -6
Lord Alexander ruled the Robertson Castle with an iron fist… his wife Sarah, the daughter of an English noble, was older than Alexander desired… marital frustration was ever-present, and Alexander often sought pleasure with Emily, a girl in the village. It was these evening visits that consummated Iain’s existence.
A late spring’s eve, the girl of the village, lay upon the bed, knees bent, screams echoing in the hills. The babe would be a difficult delivery… the cries of the babe mixed with the cries of the mother’s parent. Childbirth had killed Emily… and Iain was born to this world without parents.
Not a season later nor many miles away, on a cold January evening, Francis McGregor gave birth to twin girls would be her husband’s worst nightmare… six daughters and no sons. Ackam raged at the foot of her bed... To God, to the Heavens, and her very own womb, why he was denied an heir…? The man left the bedroom without even a glance at the dark-haired girls with the blue catlike eyes. Their mother bawled her eyes out that night, wishing her body would have produced the male heir Ackam McGregor had wanted so badly. He had told her this was her last chance... Did he mean it...? Certainly not...? He would not set her aside for a second younger wife... Not after all these years..? Would he…?
It was with some amount of clarity that she named the twins the next morning, both after his Grandmother’s family names, that would hopefully make his temper fade and his feelings thaw toward the children. Aracellis after his paternal grandmother on the McGregor side… and Chloestrain after the maternal grandmother on the Dunleavy side… Had she known at that moment that she was cursing one twin and blessing another… She might have chose differently… but such is hindsight…
Ackam McGregor and Alexander Robertson were distant cousins, their grandmothers being sisters. And as such, the McGregors and the Robertsons were linked. Lands, fortunes, and tithes all abound separately but the closeness of kin never severed.
In the years to come, Ackam rarely noticed any of his girls... And sure enough his temper did fade and he kept his wife... For if nothing more than the years of service and trying to give him and Heir. When the twins were 3 years old, Francis did indeed manage to give birth to a son... Rackam… and there was joy in the household at last…. Or was it?
The twins would enjoy free reign of Dun Neville, the Robertson Castle. Often the twins would come to the castle to avoid their father and to join the estranged Iain in a game of marbles or other games to pass the times. Anything to stay away from Ackam and keep the boy from Alexander’s sight.
Ackam, now with an heir, seemed to grow more pleasant and warm in his old age… And while his children were often afraid of him and scurried out of his way, the twin, Aracellis seemed not to balk at his gruffness. And at times sought out his lap, to snuggle into, playing with his long red beard… and singing softly… It was this coupled with her name of the McGregor grandmother that eventually cast her into the roll of favorite. Meanwhile, Chloestrain would hide away at Dun Neville as often as she could..
The boy played marbles with the dark-haired girls, especially Chloestrain. Though smaller than he, her petite hands thumbed the stone marble, knocking several from the circle. “Damn lass… ye win again…” the boy exclaims… The girl replying… “Ye can speak like dat around mae, but ye knock Lord Alexander, and he shall back-hand ye…” The boy sits upon his buttocks in the dirt…. “Damn be LORD Alexander…. He hates me anyhow…” The small dark-haired girl scoots in the dirt next to him, her arm over and upon his shoulder… “Nary ye mind Iain… ah shall love ye always…” then pushes him away… “C’mon now… ye ‘ave marbles ah like… and ah wanna win them from ye…”
The girl that visited the Dun Neville Castle more often than her sister… his distant cousin… a girl that had captured his heart and had it torn asunder when the young boy was ushered from the Castle as a bastard of the Clan Leader. The days of youth, for a boy, who’s father would not claim as his own… days filled with ridicule and blasphemy… Fights and loneliness were his days… except for the girl with the chestnut colored hair and blue eyes… She didn’t mind his parentage, or the lack of…for they had made a pact to be friends forever… But forever was short-lived, when the father shunned the boy, driving him from the castle and reprimanded the girls for associating with society’s curs… And in that stroke of finality, drove his bastard from the Castle.
Years later would find Ackam often followed by Aracellis… Her twin, Chloestrain, tagging along… into the fields... or about the estate... It didn’t matter... And when they grew into young girls of twelve, rumors abounded about the unnatural way they followed him. It was Francis who put a stop to it... Saying the girls were much too old and required the teachings of womanly things. It was as if the rumor sparked a darkness in Ackam… and when his wife denied him of his favorite, he raged against it, telling her she could do whatever she wished with Chloestrain... But that Aracellis was his …his favorite… his pick… it was a moment that would define the whole McGregor family from that day on…
For years, Iain watched from his peasant home, as his father rode out for hunting trips with his sons, all in fine livery. And he, the bastard son, seemed forgotten by all except the dark-haired lass.
Rackam was a sickly child, who never seemed to fare well out of doors. Even in the summer, it was likely to find him bundled by the fire… Only three years the junior of the twins, he spent time with tutors and governesses… And in his mothers care... His father rarely visiting the sickly heir... Such a disappointment…
But Ackam’s comfort in life was Aracellis. The beautiful, vivacious, fun-loving, witty Aracellis... whom he treated like a princess… the older girls having been married off to good matches and moved away… Now in the twilight of his life, Aracellis was his only joy. It was in those years between 12 and 17 that he begins to sup from the fruit of his own child... Such tender flesh was a tonic to an old man’s own flesh... He would not be denied... And it was in those years that Aracellis was twisted into something horrid. She took pride in her father’s need of her… pride that she had usurped her mother’s place in his bed. And pride that she was the most beloved of the family. He showered her with jewels and gifts nothing was denied her. As he bent her young supple body to his deranged needs… She learned depravity at his hands… but it came with a price… everyone in the county knew… It seemed of the unholy relationship... Yet no one stepped forth to stop it...
Finally, Iain could not take the pain of being denied the same sort of luxuries that his half-brothers were receiving. He snuck into the castle, and confronted his father while he was on the way to the privy. His father was intrigued at the boldness his bastard son had shown. To amuse himself, he brought Iain into the castle every day for food and military training with his half-brothers. His brothers beat him every day, having had several more years of training than him, but Iain did not care. He was happy to be treated on the same level as them.
It was in those days of childhood that Chloestrain would meet the young Iain… caring for his bruises and wounds from the beatings, playing games that would wash away the pains, and forming a bond, deep and true... the bond slicing thru the pains of years…
Years passed, Iain trained for combat and hardened by his step-brothers, eventually fought in numerous battles under the command of his father against the English. In his last battle, a minor skirmish, his eldest brother Daniel, fell in combat merely a few feet from where he stood; rumor twisted the events until it was Iain stabbing the heir of the castle in cold blood. Iain fled one step ahead of the knights sent to capture and execute him.
A warrant for his life! Accused for something that could not be proven he actually did! The death of Daniel was detailed by those near that Iain had stabbed his brother… A hunted man, he made himself invisible for years… And when he stopped running, he found himself in one of the villages of Skye. Filled with anger and sorrow at what had happened, Iain joined peasants of the village, intent on returning to Dun Neville at its head. He sought out his truest of friends. But it was Ackam that found him out… and with this set upon a plan…
But the pride of the McGregor would not allow it. Something had snapped Ackam to his senses… and it was clear Aracellis had bewitched him. She needed to be sent far away; before his eternal soul was dammed. And as Iain sought them out, Chloestrain would later meet him again... but under the guise of being Aracellis. Not for meanness of guile, but because... She was forced too… you see, Aracellis was now some few months pregnant with her father’s child... and it was Ackam’s sight set on Iain... for a husband and father. For her, a good proper match; that would discount any and all rumors back home... But Aracellis was against it, wishing to stay at home with her father and have her babe; to go on with life as it were.
So it was Chloestrain that was sent in her stead to woo the Robertson lad… against her wishes... But she would not disobey…her family’s reputation and her mother’s heart demanded it of her... For her sister’s sake... They laid the weight of the whole family upon her meager shoulders…
And so it was that she courted and wooed the bastard of Struan... Captivating him like no other… For somewhere in the middle of it all, she had fallen deeply in love with Iain Robertson... and gave him a locket to remember the days.
Iain spent his days as a farmer helping the villagers, living in the meager surroundings that they offered him. Every moment, day in and day out, he tried to be with the lass… She was a joy to be with… and one day, she brought a locket to him… a small painting of herself for him to behold, even when in the fields working. He would soon ask the girl’s father for her hand in marriage…
Happiness… until that day she was replaced by the real Aracellis, who would break his heart. In a fit of rage... by all accounts that Chloestrain had heard… it was a most vicious happenstance... and that broke her own heart. After his declaration of marriage, Aracellis left Iain without a word of explanation, having set sail back to the mainland. Determined to rejoin her father at their home and become the Head of the McGregor holdings…
With her departure, time lagged on… memories had begun to flood his dreams… and now, even in his waking days… Images across a room, or flashes of being from across a courtyard. And now, the one he had fallen in love with, shunned him too…
The locket ! It was as if it burned his skin. Taking it from under the shirt… opening it, his heart pounded upon gazing upon the picture inside… memories again flooded his mind and heart… Still, the pair had formulated a relationship that would cross time and space… he had, and wears it still, as if it was part of his anatomy.
Rumors would show she plan to marry another. Setting Iain upon a rampage of revenge against the suitor. Meanwhile, Aracellis was determined to rejoin her father at their home and become the Head of the McGregor holdings…
Some say the ship was fired upon by the pirates who plied the waters... and then boarded; somehow Aracellis disappearing into the mayhem never to be heard of again... But Chloestrain knew the truth. Her father had a man kill the temptress, his own daughter whom he had sullied and soiled for years. And tossed her body to the depths… it was the only solution to the problem of Aracellis. Had she made it home, he would have not had the strength to deny her…
Proven loyal to Skye and Scotland, in many battles, he had proven himself worthy. The wars in Trotternish and Sleat were now a thing of the past, and Lord Iain had returned an honored knight by Duke Aberdeen… Lands were offered him as an appreciative gesture to the Robertson clan…
Once Chloestrain had returned home, Ackam truly despised her. She was nothing more than a reminder of his sins… and his loss. Soon enough, she was set out on the street... He cared not what happened to her. As in the last days of his life, Ackam went mad. Perhaps it was of some mercy she had been put out, because a scant week later she heard the news… Ackam McGregor, his wife, and son had all perished in a house fire with nothing left.
Publically, Iain was a loyal and stalwart man… a good leader… but in private, life was turmoil. Often waking in a sweat… the dreams, nay nightmares, roused him from deep-sleep… his subconscious invading the conscious. Known for his promiscuity, outwardly, he was charismatic, a man of the ladies. Any female would swoon under his charm. In private was yet another story. Sitting upon the bed, his sweat-beaded brow in his hands, he reflects back to the days of old… the girls that visited him in the Castle… his distant cousins… twin girls that had treated him as an equal.
Far too often, the girl beside him would turn and try to comfort him, only to be the recipient of wrath not deserved. “Get out wench… get away from me… tell anyone of this and die…” then he pushes her from the bed, as the lass attempted to gather covering of her nude form. The frightened girl ran from the room in tears, the door slamming behind her. “Damn ye woman… stay from my mind… tarry no more in my memories... lemme be…” Standing… the naked figure of a tall young man, muscles bulging and flexing as he moved… his fingers brushing back the hair from his face…
To Francis McGregor’s credit, she had seen to all her children’s education, and Chloe was a bright and intelligent girl, more devoted to her studies than her twin, who craved the out-of-doors and freedom being with her father gave her… Chloestrain had been a model of femininity and grace... far surpassing her wilder counterpart...
So it was that Chloestrain became Chloe… and traveled to Turas Lan to start anew. Something in her heart hoped to see Iain again, to tell him the truth at least… but when she sought word of him, it was that he was with another… so she let sleeping dogs lie as it were. Days of serving ale and food in taverns seemed to take their toll on the young beauty... Until the day that Shaden Aramoire walked in… for lunch… after that day she was no longer a tavern wench… But a Lily…
The ball at the Blue Castle brought out Turas Lan’s best and brightest colors and styles… Iain stood by the thick column, the ladies striving to gain his attention. Should they play their hand, would they know that their virtue would be his prize…? Looking up from the gaggle of females, Iain looks across the room… on the far side, he sees someone familiar… someone from years past… Her beautiful brown hair flowing down her back, shimmering with every movement of her shapely figure… her pert nose protruding from such a well-formed beautiful face. Glancing to the females, he begs their indulgence and excuses himself. Once glance across the floor, the beautiful female stood alone… then as he made his way across the crowded floor only to find her gone…
Frustrated, Iain began to scan the large ballroom… there… he sees her… then someone touches his arm… “M’Lord…” Iain quickly retorts… “Not now… be gone…” without ever seeing who it was. Once again, the tall man maneuvers across the floor… The lady had disappeared again… He huffs and curses under his breath… Before him, an open door to the garden… Slate grey eyes narrow as he moves to the door and exits.
Nowadays, his visits to Turas Lan have become more prevalent with the Gaelic Renaissance in full swing. Opportunities for the new Lord began to present themselves to those of Clan Robertson in Struan. But a plan had been formulized at passion's gate... one that would involve the most likely of candidates.
The long hair, now shorn short... he stands on a balcony in Dun Darroch, the Struan castle reflecting back to days long ago... she always liked the hair short... saying it made him look bolder... albeit, the women he made swoon loved his long locks, he now bore a new look, for the past had risen like a phoenix…. Even his four closest friends … Iain, Erin, Mark, and Edward… knew not what their Lord’s life would become…
Tucked away her secret that only she held, now that her family and past were well behind her and her new life begun... It was only when she was alone... Late at night she allowed her self these memories alone in her room at the Lily... It was then and only then that a flaw... a crack showed in the perfected veneer she showed to the public... It was then and only then that she knew she had a heart.
A late spring’s eve, the girl of the village, lay upon the bed, knees bent, screams echoing in the hills. The babe would be a difficult delivery… the cries of the babe mixed with the cries of the mother’s parent. Childbirth had killed Emily… and Iain was born to this world without parents.
Not a season later nor many miles away, on a cold January evening, Francis McGregor gave birth to twin girls would be her husband’s worst nightmare… six daughters and no sons. Ackam raged at the foot of her bed... To God, to the Heavens, and her very own womb, why he was denied an heir…? The man left the bedroom without even a glance at the dark-haired girls with the blue catlike eyes. Their mother bawled her eyes out that night, wishing her body would have produced the male heir Ackam McGregor had wanted so badly. He had told her this was her last chance... Did he mean it...? Certainly not...? He would not set her aside for a second younger wife... Not after all these years..? Would he…?
It was with some amount of clarity that she named the twins the next morning, both after his Grandmother’s family names, that would hopefully make his temper fade and his feelings thaw toward the children. Aracellis after his paternal grandmother on the McGregor side… and Chloestrain after the maternal grandmother on the Dunleavy side… Had she known at that moment that she was cursing one twin and blessing another… She might have chose differently… but such is hindsight…
Ackam McGregor and Alexander Robertson were distant cousins, their grandmothers being sisters. And as such, the McGregors and the Robertsons were linked. Lands, fortunes, and tithes all abound separately but the closeness of kin never severed.
In the years to come, Ackam rarely noticed any of his girls... And sure enough his temper did fade and he kept his wife... For if nothing more than the years of service and trying to give him and Heir. When the twins were 3 years old, Francis did indeed manage to give birth to a son... Rackam… and there was joy in the household at last…. Or was it?
The twins would enjoy free reign of Dun Neville, the Robertson Castle. Often the twins would come to the castle to avoid their father and to join the estranged Iain in a game of marbles or other games to pass the times. Anything to stay away from Ackam and keep the boy from Alexander’s sight.
Ackam, now with an heir, seemed to grow more pleasant and warm in his old age… And while his children were often afraid of him and scurried out of his way, the twin, Aracellis seemed not to balk at his gruffness. And at times sought out his lap, to snuggle into, playing with his long red beard… and singing softly… It was this coupled with her name of the McGregor grandmother that eventually cast her into the roll of favorite. Meanwhile, Chloestrain would hide away at Dun Neville as often as she could..
The boy played marbles with the dark-haired girls, especially Chloestrain. Though smaller than he, her petite hands thumbed the stone marble, knocking several from the circle. “Damn lass… ye win again…” the boy exclaims… The girl replying… “Ye can speak like dat around mae, but ye knock Lord Alexander, and he shall back-hand ye…” The boy sits upon his buttocks in the dirt…. “Damn be LORD Alexander…. He hates me anyhow…” The small dark-haired girl scoots in the dirt next to him, her arm over and upon his shoulder… “Nary ye mind Iain… ah shall love ye always…” then pushes him away… “C’mon now… ye ‘ave marbles ah like… and ah wanna win them from ye…”
The girl that visited the Dun Neville Castle more often than her sister… his distant cousin… a girl that had captured his heart and had it torn asunder when the young boy was ushered from the Castle as a bastard of the Clan Leader. The days of youth, for a boy, who’s father would not claim as his own… days filled with ridicule and blasphemy… Fights and loneliness were his days… except for the girl with the chestnut colored hair and blue eyes… She didn’t mind his parentage, or the lack of…for they had made a pact to be friends forever… But forever was short-lived, when the father shunned the boy, driving him from the castle and reprimanded the girls for associating with society’s curs… And in that stroke of finality, drove his bastard from the Castle.
Years later would find Ackam often followed by Aracellis… Her twin, Chloestrain, tagging along… into the fields... or about the estate... It didn’t matter... And when they grew into young girls of twelve, rumors abounded about the unnatural way they followed him. It was Francis who put a stop to it... Saying the girls were much too old and required the teachings of womanly things. It was as if the rumor sparked a darkness in Ackam… and when his wife denied him of his favorite, he raged against it, telling her she could do whatever she wished with Chloestrain... But that Aracellis was his …his favorite… his pick… it was a moment that would define the whole McGregor family from that day on…
For years, Iain watched from his peasant home, as his father rode out for hunting trips with his sons, all in fine livery. And he, the bastard son, seemed forgotten by all except the dark-haired lass.
Rackam was a sickly child, who never seemed to fare well out of doors. Even in the summer, it was likely to find him bundled by the fire… Only three years the junior of the twins, he spent time with tutors and governesses… And in his mothers care... His father rarely visiting the sickly heir... Such a disappointment…
But Ackam’s comfort in life was Aracellis. The beautiful, vivacious, fun-loving, witty Aracellis... whom he treated like a princess… the older girls having been married off to good matches and moved away… Now in the twilight of his life, Aracellis was his only joy. It was in those years between 12 and 17 that he begins to sup from the fruit of his own child... Such tender flesh was a tonic to an old man’s own flesh... He would not be denied... And it was in those years that Aracellis was twisted into something horrid. She took pride in her father’s need of her… pride that she had usurped her mother’s place in his bed. And pride that she was the most beloved of the family. He showered her with jewels and gifts nothing was denied her. As he bent her young supple body to his deranged needs… She learned depravity at his hands… but it came with a price… everyone in the county knew… It seemed of the unholy relationship... Yet no one stepped forth to stop it...
Finally, Iain could not take the pain of being denied the same sort of luxuries that his half-brothers were receiving. He snuck into the castle, and confronted his father while he was on the way to the privy. His father was intrigued at the boldness his bastard son had shown. To amuse himself, he brought Iain into the castle every day for food and military training with his half-brothers. His brothers beat him every day, having had several more years of training than him, but Iain did not care. He was happy to be treated on the same level as them.
It was in those days of childhood that Chloestrain would meet the young Iain… caring for his bruises and wounds from the beatings, playing games that would wash away the pains, and forming a bond, deep and true... the bond slicing thru the pains of years…
Years passed, Iain trained for combat and hardened by his step-brothers, eventually fought in numerous battles under the command of his father against the English. In his last battle, a minor skirmish, his eldest brother Daniel, fell in combat merely a few feet from where he stood; rumor twisted the events until it was Iain stabbing the heir of the castle in cold blood. Iain fled one step ahead of the knights sent to capture and execute him.
A warrant for his life! Accused for something that could not be proven he actually did! The death of Daniel was detailed by those near that Iain had stabbed his brother… A hunted man, he made himself invisible for years… And when he stopped running, he found himself in one of the villages of Skye. Filled with anger and sorrow at what had happened, Iain joined peasants of the village, intent on returning to Dun Neville at its head. He sought out his truest of friends. But it was Ackam that found him out… and with this set upon a plan…
But the pride of the McGregor would not allow it. Something had snapped Ackam to his senses… and it was clear Aracellis had bewitched him. She needed to be sent far away; before his eternal soul was dammed. And as Iain sought them out, Chloestrain would later meet him again... but under the guise of being Aracellis. Not for meanness of guile, but because... She was forced too… you see, Aracellis was now some few months pregnant with her father’s child... and it was Ackam’s sight set on Iain... for a husband and father. For her, a good proper match; that would discount any and all rumors back home... But Aracellis was against it, wishing to stay at home with her father and have her babe; to go on with life as it were.
So it was Chloestrain that was sent in her stead to woo the Robertson lad… against her wishes... But she would not disobey…her family’s reputation and her mother’s heart demanded it of her... For her sister’s sake... They laid the weight of the whole family upon her meager shoulders…
And so it was that she courted and wooed the bastard of Struan... Captivating him like no other… For somewhere in the middle of it all, she had fallen deeply in love with Iain Robertson... and gave him a locket to remember the days.
Iain spent his days as a farmer helping the villagers, living in the meager surroundings that they offered him. Every moment, day in and day out, he tried to be with the lass… She was a joy to be with… and one day, she brought a locket to him… a small painting of herself for him to behold, even when in the fields working. He would soon ask the girl’s father for her hand in marriage…
Happiness… until that day she was replaced by the real Aracellis, who would break his heart. In a fit of rage... by all accounts that Chloestrain had heard… it was a most vicious happenstance... and that broke her own heart. After his declaration of marriage, Aracellis left Iain without a word of explanation, having set sail back to the mainland. Determined to rejoin her father at their home and become the Head of the McGregor holdings…
With her departure, time lagged on… memories had begun to flood his dreams… and now, even in his waking days… Images across a room, or flashes of being from across a courtyard. And now, the one he had fallen in love with, shunned him too…
The locket ! It was as if it burned his skin. Taking it from under the shirt… opening it, his heart pounded upon gazing upon the picture inside… memories again flooded his mind and heart… Still, the pair had formulated a relationship that would cross time and space… he had, and wears it still, as if it was part of his anatomy.
Rumors would show she plan to marry another. Setting Iain upon a rampage of revenge against the suitor. Meanwhile, Aracellis was determined to rejoin her father at their home and become the Head of the McGregor holdings…
Some say the ship was fired upon by the pirates who plied the waters... and then boarded; somehow Aracellis disappearing into the mayhem never to be heard of again... But Chloestrain knew the truth. Her father had a man kill the temptress, his own daughter whom he had sullied and soiled for years. And tossed her body to the depths… it was the only solution to the problem of Aracellis. Had she made it home, he would have not had the strength to deny her…
Proven loyal to Skye and Scotland, in many battles, he had proven himself worthy. The wars in Trotternish and Sleat were now a thing of the past, and Lord Iain had returned an honored knight by Duke Aberdeen… Lands were offered him as an appreciative gesture to the Robertson clan…
Once Chloestrain had returned home, Ackam truly despised her. She was nothing more than a reminder of his sins… and his loss. Soon enough, she was set out on the street... He cared not what happened to her. As in the last days of his life, Ackam went mad. Perhaps it was of some mercy she had been put out, because a scant week later she heard the news… Ackam McGregor, his wife, and son had all perished in a house fire with nothing left.
Publically, Iain was a loyal and stalwart man… a good leader… but in private, life was turmoil. Often waking in a sweat… the dreams, nay nightmares, roused him from deep-sleep… his subconscious invading the conscious. Known for his promiscuity, outwardly, he was charismatic, a man of the ladies. Any female would swoon under his charm. In private was yet another story. Sitting upon the bed, his sweat-beaded brow in his hands, he reflects back to the days of old… the girls that visited him in the Castle… his distant cousins… twin girls that had treated him as an equal.
Far too often, the girl beside him would turn and try to comfort him, only to be the recipient of wrath not deserved. “Get out wench… get away from me… tell anyone of this and die…” then he pushes her from the bed, as the lass attempted to gather covering of her nude form. The frightened girl ran from the room in tears, the door slamming behind her. “Damn ye woman… stay from my mind… tarry no more in my memories... lemme be…” Standing… the naked figure of a tall young man, muscles bulging and flexing as he moved… his fingers brushing back the hair from his face…
To Francis McGregor’s credit, she had seen to all her children’s education, and Chloe was a bright and intelligent girl, more devoted to her studies than her twin, who craved the out-of-doors and freedom being with her father gave her… Chloestrain had been a model of femininity and grace... far surpassing her wilder counterpart...
So it was that Chloestrain became Chloe… and traveled to Turas Lan to start anew. Something in her heart hoped to see Iain again, to tell him the truth at least… but when she sought word of him, it was that he was with another… so she let sleeping dogs lie as it were. Days of serving ale and food in taverns seemed to take their toll on the young beauty... Until the day that Shaden Aramoire walked in… for lunch… after that day she was no longer a tavern wench… But a Lily…
The ball at the Blue Castle brought out Turas Lan’s best and brightest colors and styles… Iain stood by the thick column, the ladies striving to gain his attention. Should they play their hand, would they know that their virtue would be his prize…? Looking up from the gaggle of females, Iain looks across the room… on the far side, he sees someone familiar… someone from years past… Her beautiful brown hair flowing down her back, shimmering with every movement of her shapely figure… her pert nose protruding from such a well-formed beautiful face. Glancing to the females, he begs their indulgence and excuses himself. Once glance across the floor, the beautiful female stood alone… then as he made his way across the crowded floor only to find her gone…
Frustrated, Iain began to scan the large ballroom… there… he sees her… then someone touches his arm… “M’Lord…” Iain quickly retorts… “Not now… be gone…” without ever seeing who it was. Once again, the tall man maneuvers across the floor… The lady had disappeared again… He huffs and curses under his breath… Before him, an open door to the garden… Slate grey eyes narrow as he moves to the door and exits.
Nowadays, his visits to Turas Lan have become more prevalent with the Gaelic Renaissance in full swing. Opportunities for the new Lord began to present themselves to those of Clan Robertson in Struan. But a plan had been formulized at passion's gate... one that would involve the most likely of candidates.
The long hair, now shorn short... he stands on a balcony in Dun Darroch, the Struan castle reflecting back to days long ago... she always liked the hair short... saying it made him look bolder... albeit, the women he made swoon loved his long locks, he now bore a new look, for the past had risen like a phoenix…. Even his four closest friends … Iain, Erin, Mark, and Edward… knew not what their Lord’s life would become…
Tucked away her secret that only she held, now that her family and past were well behind her and her new life begun... It was only when she was alone... Late at night she allowed her self these memories alone in her room at the Lily... It was then and only then that a flaw... a crack showed in the perfected veneer she showed to the public... It was then and only then that she knew she had a heart.
