Post by Lord Iain Robertson on Oct 6, 2010 19:02:10 GMT -6
Arrving at Eilean Donan, she had been shown to a suite of rooms, told that she was free to move about as she pleased and that the King and Queen would re-convene the trial when Lord Iain Robertson had returned as well. The rooms consisted of a bedchamber, a sitting room, and a bath closet, all laid out beautifully, and down the hall from where her family resided in their rooms. Leaving behind the small bag of travel nesccesities, she let her men bring up her trunks and settled them in her room before she went to find her son.
Thirteen days… Thirteen days from the last time he saw Chloestrain… a man upon a pale-brown stallion would ride into Eilean Donan… the horse covered in a blanket of Robertson plaid… the headed gauntlet of the clan Robertson made in silver and embedded into the rear flap of the saddle… the man was dressed in fine Lord’s clothes. Iain halted the horse outside the gate, and called to the guards… “Inform the King, Lord Robertson has returned to face charges levied against him.”
As the guards opened the gates, Iain spurred the horse and entered once more toward destiny. Dismounting, he then led his steed to the livery… and it was there he got a smile upon his face. It was the MacGregor saddle set upon the post that gave him reason…. Chloe had returned. He just hoped that she would be glad to see him.
A page arrived as Iain stepped into the Castle corridor… “This way MiLord, I shall show you your room…” the page said. Iain simply nodded, but thinking… ‘No cell… no locked quarters… just a place to sleep during the trial’.
Adam stood in the window overlooking the courtyard… Eilean Donan was a beautiful castle And its courtyard still held flowers galore… well-kept, but there were a lot of things relating to the clan Robertson, but few relics of the Argyll. He hoped that would change soon enough. As he watched the children playing below, a page arrived and informed the King that Lord Robertson had finally arrived… him being the last of the absent defendants. “Aye, have him settled in his room…” was all Adam said.
Ivella, was sitting near the window rocking, her aged fingers patting the golden haired little girl in her arms that squirmed and cried, pitously… “Shhhh shhh little one… You are not alone...” the grandmotherly figure tried to calm the child but was unable to... It seemed as though the two-year old Emily Robertson would not be calmed, after being left behind to die by her mother and grandfather during the Riots of Dun Darroch… Chloe had entered the room, met by a maid, who pointed into the sitting chamber.
Iain was shown to his suite… he heard the crying down the hall and presumed it was an Argyll child. Fate would find him just missing Chloe entering Ivella’s room; the door closing just as he entered the hallway.
The four, and their families, were sequestered from the rest of the Castle residents and the King and Queen. Each one had a suite.. a bedroom, sitting room, and a bath closet… and a central perfumed garderobe. The Argyll hierarchy, who, before the revolt, remained publically loyal to Lord Alexander, but privately rebelled against at every chance, lived much better than the lower classes… That fact was evident in the main part of the castle… Now, the heirachy still lived better than the others, but the lifestyle was improving now that Alexander was not oppressing them.
Robin lay on the floor playing with carved wooden soldiers, and horses, near Ivella, and cast worried glances upward toward the squirming crying toddler. When he saw his mother, though, all thoughs of the little girl’s distubance was gone; instead a bright smile and he was up… “Mammmaaaaaa…” the four year old… soon to be 5 at Chiristmastide… launched himself into a full run, then threw himself into her arms. “I was so worried... I missed you…” his little hands fell over her face, as if in feeling the curves and smile there he would seal her as real, and not just a child’s dreams of the past few weeks…
She held him tightly, hugging him with all the fierceness and love she had for him, a thousand kisses rained down upon his face and forehead, and for a moment neither mother nor child noticed the caterwalling of the toddled who now flailed and tried to loose herself from Ivella’s grasp.
After the fighting at Dun Darroch, Iain spent the next 8 days making sure his home did not burn down, nor his land laid to waste… In the meantime, he had found Keliana’s room empty and his children gone… What he did not know was the bytch had left his favorite, Emily, to fend for herself… If not for one of Iain’s personal pages, the 2 year old could have possibly died. The page had brought Emily to Eilean Donan while Dun Darroch was still embattled… The woman Ivella immediately offering her services to the page… a sort of filling a void that had been caused by her son’s untimely death…
Iain’s family was an abboration. The husband and wife acted not like loving parents… Despite fighting constantly, they had three children. Emily was only two years old… Iain adored his daughter, the jewel in her father’s eyes… his favorite, quite the opposite of popular clan culture. Keliana did not act like the girl’s mother, virtually ignoring her, preferring the boys… The boys who were actually her lover’s, Theodore, sons. Now, his wife and two bastard sons were gone… and he yet not knew the fate of Emily, assuming Keliana took her as well.
Much had occurred in the last few months… and the last thirteen days had been difficult, knowing Chloe was now free… But the man knew nothing else of current events… One last look around the room, he laid upon the large bed… and sleep soon took over…
Soon enough though Chloe looked over Robin’s head as she noticed… “What have we here?” her voice questioned her son, whom she now let slide to the floor, still holding his hand tightly, as she did not wish to let it go, for fear of being separated again.
“Lord Iain’s youngest… Emily… poor thing, had been nothing but scared since she got here, nightmares, she doesn’t sleep well… It’s hard to get her to eat... She’s a skittish fractured thing…” Ivella looked up at Chloe, still in her old age, she had the strengh of a lioness… Even mourning the death of her son, grandmotherly hands tried to sooth the little girl…
“Let me…?” Chloe moved over to kneel at Ivella’s knee, Robin at her side, watching to see if the little girl would scream all the louder like she did with Aunt Shyvonne and Aunt Lindall… Tender fingers stroked back the tear dampened golden hair of the little girl. While she had the hair of Keliana, the rest of her was pure Iain, her features seemed to be almost identical to Robin’s, when he was the same age. “Em… Emily…?” her face canted to the side to look at the child who quieted and peered into the caring eyes, and the soft voice that called her name… “Emmie… sweetheart… I’m a friend of your daddy’s… and he ask me to make sure your safe and happy till he gets back…” she held out her hands in offering to the little girl… “You wanna come to me ?” Chloe had always had a way with children, something in her voice, or her person called to them like the pied piper of lore... Suddenly the little girl thrust herself into Chloe’s embrace… wreathing her neck with her little chubby arms… “Daddy... Daddy…” it was obvious she was missing and worried about her father.
“Shhhhhhhh… Daddy’s coming soon… I promise... Till then I’ll make sure your safe…” she crooned over and over into the little girl’s ear… It was like holding a piece of Iain’s heart in her hand... And she wondered over the fate of his two sons… Where were Alex and Duncan...? These thoughts troubled her. As she rose, smiling at Ivella, and patting her hand, though the woman looked quite relieved that the child was at last not screaming and crying in tantrum anymore… “Here let’s clean up that face a bit hmmmmmm?” she hummed softly a tune she used to sing to Robin; as he moved as she directed to get her a damp cloth… and return it to her while she bathed Emily’s hands and face in coolness... “Better?” she leaned down and kissed the cherubs cheeks, and rubbed her nose, and a miracle happened... A giggle erupted, from the little bow mouth, and Robin joined in.
“Good to hear her do something besides cry.” he chuckled... Pressing a kiss to his mothers cheek. And like all children, he lost interest quickly now that the drama seemed over, and returned to his own play… while his mother and Grandmother spoke of days past.
Later that night….
Iain woke from a long-deserved sleep… spending the next few hours taking a bath, unpacking clothes, and getting familiar with his new cell… As the Argyll Laird sent his page around, knocks upon doors followed by a chant… “The evening meal is served…” rousted Iain from his room. He slipped on his green ornated jacket over the white shirt and headed down the hall… Lady Ivella departing for supper ahead of him…
There, in a room, not three doors down, in a chair, sat Chloe, with Emily in her lap, laying back against her breast asleep… Robin playing quietly at her feet.
She had tried to lay Emily down to nap on the bed, telling the little girl she would be close by, but Emily wouldn't have it… clinging to Chloe as if she were a lifeline, or a spidermonkey, as Robin had started to refer to her as.
At this point, Chloe was unwise to the fact that Alex and Duncan were not blood children of Iain’s, and worried over their fates, enough so that when Kane had come to pay his respects earlier, she had asked him to put out inquires as to the whereabouts of Alex and Duncan, and their mother… She suspected, that even though Keliana and Iain's marriage was an unhappy one, there would still be worry in Iain’s mind over the fate of the mother of his children and his two sons… Yet she knew that with Emily safe that would be of some comfort. So she rocked the little one back to sleep, holding her tenderly, while Robin played and then read from his primer, showing off the skills he had acquired from Shyvonne's tutiledge… "Very good Robin, I tell you no boy of 4 I know can read so well.. you are for sure the smartest boy I've ever met." she praised him exhorbitantly, as she felt with all the things he had gone thru, that indeed he needed a moment of praise and pride… he was a extraordinary boy, with a good heart.. even now when he should be wrapped in his mother’s arms, he allowed that comfort to the little girl who needed it more... "Go open the door and see if Grandmama is going down to dinner… bid her wait on us… for I'm starving... aren't you?" she grinned knowing her son was tired of playing quietly cooped up in the room for the afternoon, and ready to perhaps see some of the other childen that resided in the castle.
Doing his mother’s bidding Robin jumped up tossing his book onto a chair and ran out into the hall. "Grand ma ma… Grand Ma ma?" he called as he barreled past Iain, the door behind him left fully open to show the portrait of madonna and child... backlit by the waning sun showering golden thru mullioned windows... "Mother says please wait for us and we will join you... she's waking Em.."
The scene was indescribable. His darling Emily laying securely in his beloved Chloe’s arms. He would have never guessed. His heart thudded in a barrel chest… not only at the sight of Madonna and child, but the nearness of his son, Robin. It tore him apart inside to know that the boy did not know his true parentage. With a sigh, he watched over his shoulder as the boy hugged Ivella’s leg delaying the woman’s meal.
His attention returned to Chloe and Emily. He could not understand how the lass got to Eilean Donan. Entering the room, Chloe smiled and held a finger to her lips. His eyelids blinked in acknowledgement and he knelt at her feet, his course hand caressing the girl’s hair. A knot wanted to choke him as he smiled at Chloe. Softly, he spoke… “Hello my dear… I have truly missed yu. Are yu well?” then he rose up and kissed her cheek, returning to his knee. With inquisitive eyes, he again spoke softly… “How did Emi come to be here? I found her mother, the boys, and her gone just after the revolt… they must have escaped with Alexander… for he is absent as well…”
Hearing slight whispers behind him, he glances back at Robin and Ivella standing in the doorway looking at the trio. “Come, let us go downstairs… food is prepared…” then he rose and extended his hands. “Want me to take her?”
The kiss to her cheek lingered, and her eyes closed softly… A hand laying on his cheek as well... What a tender, yet innocent gesture, that was filled with such love and longing between the two, that yet could not be public. It was these little moments, they each lived for, these little moments stolen time that entwined their souls together, no matter distance or time. Mossy green eyes lifted as Emi was given over to her father and Chloe stood… Laying a hand on his forearm, another gesture of love and familiarity that was no lost between the two… “A steward brought her here... Mother Ivella and Lindall have been tending her.” came the answer to his question of his daughter. “I have had Kane inquiring into the whereabouts of your Sons… and your wife and father.” the emphasis being on the boys, as she could care less if Keliana or Alexander, either one, rotted in hell. The next piece of information would be just as pertinent… “Theodore Robertson’s children are here in the castle as well… Under Lindall’s care... It seems their father has disappeared, there were rumors he was a target of the masked invaders?” At this point Chloe had no idea that Alex and Duncan were not the blood children of Iain, but bastards of Keliana’s affair with Theadore. As they met Ivella and Robin and continued to the dining hall, Chloe would offer in a whisper only for him… “We shall find a private moment... Later when the children are asleep.”
“My sincerest thanks to Ladies Ivella and Lindall… and a special thanks for yu… I shall reward the steward for sure…” With a chuckle… “I dun care about Kel and my Father… they can rot in hell… and that Theodore… I am sure their just reward will find them.” He gave a smirk… Iain just laughed quietly… “No wonder Theodore is missing… I shall tell yu why later…”
Downstairs, the people of Eilean Donan was gathering for the evening meal… New guests, and residents, being served as life anew began to unfold under the freedom now afforded them. It was as if a “First Supper” was being intiated…
Old clan ways succumbed to new… and at the forefront were the Aberdeen, MacGregor, MacDonald, and the Robertson… But change causes resistance… Resistance to change, the action taken by individuals and groups when they perceive that a change that is occurring as a threat to them… and that feeling of threat to life, formed new enemies… For those facing a new life, would be facing new enemies…
The dinner had been torturous to say the least, he had been so close, yet separated by the table and other bodies between them. She in her mourning gown, mourning the husband, the chieftain of her clan, hair pulled back demurely in a low bun, no jewelry or artifice, save a gold cross that hung from a chain about her neck. The talk of the table was lively, as the good people enjoyed their dinner and conversation, and when at last it was done and the service dismissed. The men would offer smoke and manly talk in one of the drawing rooms, while the ladies partook of music and poetry recital in another. “I beg your Grace, I’m not up to conversation this evening.” she spoke to Qynn who as the daughter of the Argyll was their hostess this eve… “I will retire if you please..?” the girl nodded understanding the grief the woman must be feeling…
For the evening meal, Iain dressed the part of clan laird the best he could considering all his belongings were back at Dun Darroch… and his manners were those expected of the same. Though, across the table sat the love of his life. Difficult as it was, he acted the part of friend and nothing further. In his lap, sat the abandoned daughter, Emily. His consoling ways livened up the little girl’s attitude, but when her eyes met Chloe’s they would always light up. But when the men started to regroup elsewhere, he noticed Chloe speaking with Lady Qynn… then approach him.
Turning to go, Robin and Ivella at her side.. She stopped just short of Iain… “If you like... I could take Emily up and put her to bed as well... While you.. Join the men ?” after all the child had been in her and Ivella’s care for days now, why wouldn’t she offer such.
He nodded to Lady Ivella and smiled at Robin. Oh, if Robin only knew… Silently, he swore to make sure Robin would begin to know him better, hoping one day to win the boy over. Looking at Chloe when she offered to take Emily, he smiled… “You wish to go with Lady Chloe?” The little golden haired girl smiled and hugged her Father, excited about being able to play with Robin again. Standing with Emi in his arms, he kissed the girl’s cheek… “Sleep well, Da shall be up later…” and he told her he loved her in Gaelic. Handing her to Chloe, he mouthed “thank you…” and watched them all leave.
And afterwards, he would retire to the other room with the men… clan politics, the results of war, and the Griffin future plans were discussed. Sharing drinks with one another, he saw those present begin to bond and he smiled at Adam’;s efforts. Hopefully the King would be able to get such response all over the Nations.
Much Later that night….
Robin and Emily had been fed, washed, played with, prayers said and now slept soundly in Chloe’s bed, tucked in snuggly and sleeping the sleep of angels. Chloe closed the door upon them smiling softly. As she moved into the sitting room, sending the servants out for the night. “I will clean up the toys and such.” she nodded closing the door behind the last, before moving to pick up the lines of toy soldiers, books and dolls that littered the floor of the room. A fire flickered cheerfully as the remnants of childhood were put away, only to be pulled out by mornings light by Robin and Emi again.
Once the room was straightened she found herself pacing back and forth like a nervous girl awaiting a suitor. It seemed as if ages had passed since those nights in the cells, where they talked and touched fingers all night long.. Awaiting death… together… And now... They were free, yet still confined and waiting to hear of their fate. Searc was dead… she was a widow... But Iain was still married... and a trial hung over their heads. Her hand dropped to the soft swell of life in her belly, she had just felt the first flutters of movement only the day before, making it all the more real… how could she tell him that she carried a child... a child that could be Carver McDonald’s... a villain, the man who had started this whole war… a man who had taken her by force… or.. Mark’s… a man who Iain looked at as if he were his brother…? She didn’t know what outcome could be worse… The clock on the mantle ticked each minute past… that seemed both blessing and curse. How could one wish someone to be with her, and dread it all the same? She moved to the window and pressed her forehead against the cold panes, her breath fogging the edges as she tortured herself with what if’s and what should be’s…
A gentle rap upon the door, he would alert her to his presence… How long had he stood at the door, his hand poised to knock…only to hesitate? He never hesitated in combat, whether on the field of battle or in the chambers of his wife… but Chloe… it had been so long, and so much had occurred. She was as beautiful to him as the first day they realized they loved one another as adolescents. But now there was a haze where the glow once was… Finally, his knuckles met wood as he found the strength to see her….
Mossy green eyes turned toward the portal that sounded against his knuckles, a giddy excitement swelled to overwhelm the dread of not knowing how he would react to the news of her pregnancy, a smile overtook the firm line that had just before graced her lips, and skirts were lifted as she ran the few steps to the door, pulling it open without hesitation, instead, the love she bore him shining upon her features. “Iain…” his name was a breathless ode to love, never so spoken with so much fevor nor adoration, from any other woman in his life… Her hands caught his pulling him inside befor the door was shut, the lock bolted, before she turned to him, the light of happiness shining upon her face for him… “It has been too long…” she murmered as she leaned against the door, her back to it... Awaiting his words... His actions... All of him.
Her voice… her touch… It was like lightning and thunder to his senses. He watched her shut the door and locked it… and when she turned to him, she offered him the same expression last time they were alone… Her stance lured him to her… and he said nothing… he only pressed his form against hers, his mouth captured her in an overzealous kiss, one the gods would blush… No thoughts of yesteryear, days past, or lost moments between them. Passion and desire stepped aside whilst lust strode in…
These two were not ones for civility nor propriety in sex, or making love if you wish to name it… and their clothes sent asunder, the racket that resounded in the room, and the moans and groans of passion, were prime examples. And this time was none less… even moreso given the affects of the last few months… the sequestering of her due to the husbandly fight, the battle of Sleat, and the horrors of Dun Darroch.
Her husband’s mourning period was not yet over, and now they delved into passion that had been long delayed. And as he lay next to her upon her bed… his course hand rode along her scars… tenderly tracing them. And when she rolled to him, he smiled, not knowing how to approach her. His slate grey eyes veered to her growing stomach… and then to her face. “Must we talk? Or shall I just listen?”
She had rolled toward him with the sweet look of love and adoration on her face, a light from within shinning in the depths of her mossy green hues.. When his eyes dropped down to the naked swell of her lower belly, the smile faded, and lips pressed into a thin line, a look of indecision on her face.. Grasping the edge of the sheet she pulled it upward covering her nudity… “I would love to answer you with the simple fact, that this is my child, and will be loved and raised as such.. And that be the end of it...” that would be a wonderous soulution, to just say it, have it done and over with.. Her child… No Carver, no Mark… None of the terror of things that had happened over the past few months. “But I know that will not suffice, for you... Or the other people in my life who will expect and answer... Or whisper of their own thoughts…” a sad smile crossed her face before she pushed back long dark strands of chesnut hair... And sat up, her back against the headboard, eyes trained on the fire that flickered in the heart… “I guess after all this time apart, and people pulling us apart, and making our way for us... Impossible… I need to tell you everything, so that if you walk away from me... It will be for the truth, and not some rumor, half truth of ill conceived reason of someone else, to steal our future…” her jaw stiffened for a moment before she begain, her eyes never leaving the fire, she couldn’t’ bear to look at him…
Times, as such they had together, were often enjoyed to the fullest. Whenever they spent company upon one another, the love endured all facets of occurrences. Stolen moments were part of their lives together, from now, past unto childhood together. Fun and games as children turned into adolescent experiments… young adulthood found them rolling in haystacks, or sharing a cot in the servant’s quarters where Lord Alexander did nay dare to roam… marriage between them was stolen by betrothal to others… yet even in marriage, they found time for one another. Their lives were true attestments to their love…
And now she spoke of a babe, yet unborn, and she spoke with authority. She had never been submissive, unless she felt so, but this instance she spoke with total command of her own physical well-being. “Aye lass, I understand… truth is what I need, nay the soft sell of a vendor…” She spoke of a child, the truth in the obvious, as his eyes looked to hers, to her belly, and back to her face.
“I do not know what you knew of what happened with Me and Searc... But before he died I forgave him... We had come to a truce of sorts, and he knew of this child, and knew it was not his... But accepted it as he did Robin… and would give it his name if I wished it... But that night, last January… Searc and I both visited horrors on one another... He first attacking me, raping me, and taking me as a man takes another man... Beating me until I and everyone else thought surely I would die... And when he fell asleep... I took his manhood... Castrated him, so that he could never do that again.. That night is what started all this… Ivella sent him to Cartersvalle to recouperate... And sent me to a hunting lodge under the guise that we both suffered from the plague… Mark cared for me... For the months it took me to recover… Every thing I needed he saw to... He gave me reasons to live, reminded me of you… And Robin... Of a future I could still have… When I wanted to die, when I felt like nothing, Searc had beaten out every piece of me that even clung to life... And Mark was there... Doing his duty… To me and to you caring for me and seeing me returned whole and well… It took months for me to heal, and when I came back to Dunsgate, there were reports of Carvers legions headed to Cartersvale... To attack Searc… I had no time to messanger you, the king, or anyone… It was at the Parlay meeting that day, when all Hell broke loose that Carver MacDonald captured me and shamed me, he raped me, brutality, and Dubhlain MacDonald stopped it, but not before he could sew his seed.” her words were wooden as if she told someone else’s tale, as if these horrors that had been visited upon her belonged to someone else. And in truth they did, for she was no longer the woman she had been when these things happened. She had aged, grown, and changed. She would never be a man's victim again.
He was a host to mixed emotions… affection, rage, sorrow, relief, torment, horrow, and pity… as she spoke of events that had occurred. Things, he knew nothing of… nor could he have prevented them… He knew not truth, only rumor… whispers of damaging evidence… Yet now he was getting the blunt truth…
She stood then moving out of the bed wrapping the sheet about her and moving to the fire, her back to him… “I needed to feel whole again, like a woman again... I needed to feel that I was alive… when I returned to Dunsgate from… the hunting lodge… Just for an hour… not even a whole night…” she turned looking at him with eyes that both begged foregivness and understanding… “I do not think you could possibly understand how it feels to be so used and degraded… its as if you think you are as ugly and dirty as the deed done to you… I needed to know... I could still stand the touch of a lover… I needed to feel… Something besides hatred and rage…” now tears coursed down her cheeks as she tried to make him understand.
He watched her move from the bed, to the fire… the mere silhouette of her, waivered any anger or resentment. “Chloe…” he wanted to move to her, but knew it best to give her distance… “I cannot feel as you did…nor even know the extent of actions and emotions you endured…” but he would say no more, for she desired to explain it all… regardless of the pain…
Perhaps at this point, she would be confused in her rambling ways about the events… “This child could be the child of Carver MacDonald… my worst enemy… or of Mark Collier.” there the words were out… “There were only the space of 5 days between them... And no real way to know for sure…” She stood there, backlit by the dying fire, her chin tilted up a bit in defiance…
The emotion flourished within as she spoke… he restrained the rage he felt for Carver… and the distrust he now held for Collier. He fought to disavow any ill-will toward his friend. The man had done what he was commanded to do by his Lord… and the volatile situation he, by circumstance, had created for Chloe and Mark. He hated that Mark had betrayed him, but wondered if his own situation with Keliana was any different. He moved from the bed, dragging the fur to the floor… laying it before Chloe… and then he knelt, naked, before her…
“I did not care for this child in the dungeons of Dun Darroch... I cared not if it’s fate was bound to mine and the axeman’s.. But when I took Searc’s body home... I felt the baby quicken inside me... Move... And I realized that I love this child, as I love Robin... It is a part of me... It’s mine... And no matter what anyone thinks... It will not be fostered to another family, nor given to a convent for keeping just because it’s roots were possibly in violence or adultery… I love this baby.” now her hands moved over her womb... “I’m it’s mother…”
Looking up at her, he knelt, bare, physically and emotionally, before her; the sparkling and snapping of the roaring fire illuminating them, and directing shadows at its flickering commands. He listened, his hand reached for hers, as she stood, hands before her… As she spoke, his hand would lay atop hers, dictating no emotion… only supportive caresses and squeezes…
While he listened, part of his mind wrapped around what she said, and the other half shot back years to his earlisest memories of his youth… If his father had only loved him, the way she professed to love this unborn child…. He loved Chloe since the beginning… she was his destiny… he knew it so… He knew what she said was true… for he himself was a bastard… the fruits from a Lord’s desire of a peasant woman. Alexander did not love the woman, nor the child… Chloe loves hers, even as unborn… One note was the absolute care she gave Emily… to accept her as her own, just because she was his…
Now what would Iain do? Would he accept this child as his… or renounce it as he had been? Would he hold Mark in contempt? Questions… so many questions… and he had all the answers, he just needed to make decisions…
Silence reigned… save the boisterous fire… the flames illuminating her… Looking up at her…. “Chloe… the love of my life… I pray that I shall be a good father… to Robin… to Emily… to this child…” he looked up at her, as he knelt upon both knees, his hands caressing hers. “Love me… and we shall be ever the strongest… I cannot allow us… our clans nor family, to live in the past… we have nothing but the future before us… The dungeons of my own home showed me the err of my ways… and the higher power has granted us freedom… The King is changing life as we know it… and we can change with it… My mother said once… Love me, love my child… and we both were renounced… Now I profess, I love yu… and shall love yer child… regardless…”
He moved closer to her on his knees… his hands moved to her slightly rotund belly on two sides… and his forehead in the center… “My child…yu shall be loved… come into this world welcomed…” and he looked up at her face and smiled.[/color]
Thirteen days… Thirteen days from the last time he saw Chloestrain… a man upon a pale-brown stallion would ride into Eilean Donan… the horse covered in a blanket of Robertson plaid… the headed gauntlet of the clan Robertson made in silver and embedded into the rear flap of the saddle… the man was dressed in fine Lord’s clothes. Iain halted the horse outside the gate, and called to the guards… “Inform the King, Lord Robertson has returned to face charges levied against him.”
As the guards opened the gates, Iain spurred the horse and entered once more toward destiny. Dismounting, he then led his steed to the livery… and it was there he got a smile upon his face. It was the MacGregor saddle set upon the post that gave him reason…. Chloe had returned. He just hoped that she would be glad to see him.
A page arrived as Iain stepped into the Castle corridor… “This way MiLord, I shall show you your room…” the page said. Iain simply nodded, but thinking… ‘No cell… no locked quarters… just a place to sleep during the trial’.
Adam stood in the window overlooking the courtyard… Eilean Donan was a beautiful castle And its courtyard still held flowers galore… well-kept, but there were a lot of things relating to the clan Robertson, but few relics of the Argyll. He hoped that would change soon enough. As he watched the children playing below, a page arrived and informed the King that Lord Robertson had finally arrived… him being the last of the absent defendants. “Aye, have him settled in his room…” was all Adam said.
Ivella, was sitting near the window rocking, her aged fingers patting the golden haired little girl in her arms that squirmed and cried, pitously… “Shhhh shhh little one… You are not alone...” the grandmotherly figure tried to calm the child but was unable to... It seemed as though the two-year old Emily Robertson would not be calmed, after being left behind to die by her mother and grandfather during the Riots of Dun Darroch… Chloe had entered the room, met by a maid, who pointed into the sitting chamber.
Iain was shown to his suite… he heard the crying down the hall and presumed it was an Argyll child. Fate would find him just missing Chloe entering Ivella’s room; the door closing just as he entered the hallway.
The four, and their families, were sequestered from the rest of the Castle residents and the King and Queen. Each one had a suite.. a bedroom, sitting room, and a bath closet… and a central perfumed garderobe. The Argyll hierarchy, who, before the revolt, remained publically loyal to Lord Alexander, but privately rebelled against at every chance, lived much better than the lower classes… That fact was evident in the main part of the castle… Now, the heirachy still lived better than the others, but the lifestyle was improving now that Alexander was not oppressing them.
Robin lay on the floor playing with carved wooden soldiers, and horses, near Ivella, and cast worried glances upward toward the squirming crying toddler. When he saw his mother, though, all thoughs of the little girl’s distubance was gone; instead a bright smile and he was up… “Mammmaaaaaa…” the four year old… soon to be 5 at Chiristmastide… launched himself into a full run, then threw himself into her arms. “I was so worried... I missed you…” his little hands fell over her face, as if in feeling the curves and smile there he would seal her as real, and not just a child’s dreams of the past few weeks…
She held him tightly, hugging him with all the fierceness and love she had for him, a thousand kisses rained down upon his face and forehead, and for a moment neither mother nor child noticed the caterwalling of the toddled who now flailed and tried to loose herself from Ivella’s grasp.
After the fighting at Dun Darroch, Iain spent the next 8 days making sure his home did not burn down, nor his land laid to waste… In the meantime, he had found Keliana’s room empty and his children gone… What he did not know was the bytch had left his favorite, Emily, to fend for herself… If not for one of Iain’s personal pages, the 2 year old could have possibly died. The page had brought Emily to Eilean Donan while Dun Darroch was still embattled… The woman Ivella immediately offering her services to the page… a sort of filling a void that had been caused by her son’s untimely death…
Iain’s family was an abboration. The husband and wife acted not like loving parents… Despite fighting constantly, they had three children. Emily was only two years old… Iain adored his daughter, the jewel in her father’s eyes… his favorite, quite the opposite of popular clan culture. Keliana did not act like the girl’s mother, virtually ignoring her, preferring the boys… The boys who were actually her lover’s, Theodore, sons. Now, his wife and two bastard sons were gone… and he yet not knew the fate of Emily, assuming Keliana took her as well.
Much had occurred in the last few months… and the last thirteen days had been difficult, knowing Chloe was now free… But the man knew nothing else of current events… One last look around the room, he laid upon the large bed… and sleep soon took over…
Soon enough though Chloe looked over Robin’s head as she noticed… “What have we here?” her voice questioned her son, whom she now let slide to the floor, still holding his hand tightly, as she did not wish to let it go, for fear of being separated again.
“Lord Iain’s youngest… Emily… poor thing, had been nothing but scared since she got here, nightmares, she doesn’t sleep well… It’s hard to get her to eat... She’s a skittish fractured thing…” Ivella looked up at Chloe, still in her old age, she had the strengh of a lioness… Even mourning the death of her son, grandmotherly hands tried to sooth the little girl…
“Let me…?” Chloe moved over to kneel at Ivella’s knee, Robin at her side, watching to see if the little girl would scream all the louder like she did with Aunt Shyvonne and Aunt Lindall… Tender fingers stroked back the tear dampened golden hair of the little girl. While she had the hair of Keliana, the rest of her was pure Iain, her features seemed to be almost identical to Robin’s, when he was the same age. “Em… Emily…?” her face canted to the side to look at the child who quieted and peered into the caring eyes, and the soft voice that called her name… “Emmie… sweetheart… I’m a friend of your daddy’s… and he ask me to make sure your safe and happy till he gets back…” she held out her hands in offering to the little girl… “You wanna come to me ?” Chloe had always had a way with children, something in her voice, or her person called to them like the pied piper of lore... Suddenly the little girl thrust herself into Chloe’s embrace… wreathing her neck with her little chubby arms… “Daddy... Daddy…” it was obvious she was missing and worried about her father.
“Shhhhhhhh… Daddy’s coming soon… I promise... Till then I’ll make sure your safe…” she crooned over and over into the little girl’s ear… It was like holding a piece of Iain’s heart in her hand... And she wondered over the fate of his two sons… Where were Alex and Duncan...? These thoughts troubled her. As she rose, smiling at Ivella, and patting her hand, though the woman looked quite relieved that the child was at last not screaming and crying in tantrum anymore… “Here let’s clean up that face a bit hmmmmmm?” she hummed softly a tune she used to sing to Robin; as he moved as she directed to get her a damp cloth… and return it to her while she bathed Emily’s hands and face in coolness... “Better?” she leaned down and kissed the cherubs cheeks, and rubbed her nose, and a miracle happened... A giggle erupted, from the little bow mouth, and Robin joined in.
“Good to hear her do something besides cry.” he chuckled... Pressing a kiss to his mothers cheek. And like all children, he lost interest quickly now that the drama seemed over, and returned to his own play… while his mother and Grandmother spoke of days past.
Later that night….
Iain woke from a long-deserved sleep… spending the next few hours taking a bath, unpacking clothes, and getting familiar with his new cell… As the Argyll Laird sent his page around, knocks upon doors followed by a chant… “The evening meal is served…” rousted Iain from his room. He slipped on his green ornated jacket over the white shirt and headed down the hall… Lady Ivella departing for supper ahead of him…
There, in a room, not three doors down, in a chair, sat Chloe, with Emily in her lap, laying back against her breast asleep… Robin playing quietly at her feet.
She had tried to lay Emily down to nap on the bed, telling the little girl she would be close by, but Emily wouldn't have it… clinging to Chloe as if she were a lifeline, or a spidermonkey, as Robin had started to refer to her as.
At this point, Chloe was unwise to the fact that Alex and Duncan were not blood children of Iain’s, and worried over their fates, enough so that when Kane had come to pay his respects earlier, she had asked him to put out inquires as to the whereabouts of Alex and Duncan, and their mother… She suspected, that even though Keliana and Iain's marriage was an unhappy one, there would still be worry in Iain’s mind over the fate of the mother of his children and his two sons… Yet she knew that with Emily safe that would be of some comfort. So she rocked the little one back to sleep, holding her tenderly, while Robin played and then read from his primer, showing off the skills he had acquired from Shyvonne's tutiledge… "Very good Robin, I tell you no boy of 4 I know can read so well.. you are for sure the smartest boy I've ever met." she praised him exhorbitantly, as she felt with all the things he had gone thru, that indeed he needed a moment of praise and pride… he was a extraordinary boy, with a good heart.. even now when he should be wrapped in his mother’s arms, he allowed that comfort to the little girl who needed it more... "Go open the door and see if Grandmama is going down to dinner… bid her wait on us… for I'm starving... aren't you?" she grinned knowing her son was tired of playing quietly cooped up in the room for the afternoon, and ready to perhaps see some of the other childen that resided in the castle.
Doing his mother’s bidding Robin jumped up tossing his book onto a chair and ran out into the hall. "Grand ma ma… Grand Ma ma?" he called as he barreled past Iain, the door behind him left fully open to show the portrait of madonna and child... backlit by the waning sun showering golden thru mullioned windows... "Mother says please wait for us and we will join you... she's waking Em.."
The scene was indescribable. His darling Emily laying securely in his beloved Chloe’s arms. He would have never guessed. His heart thudded in a barrel chest… not only at the sight of Madonna and child, but the nearness of his son, Robin. It tore him apart inside to know that the boy did not know his true parentage. With a sigh, he watched over his shoulder as the boy hugged Ivella’s leg delaying the woman’s meal.
His attention returned to Chloe and Emily. He could not understand how the lass got to Eilean Donan. Entering the room, Chloe smiled and held a finger to her lips. His eyelids blinked in acknowledgement and he knelt at her feet, his course hand caressing the girl’s hair. A knot wanted to choke him as he smiled at Chloe. Softly, he spoke… “Hello my dear… I have truly missed yu. Are yu well?” then he rose up and kissed her cheek, returning to his knee. With inquisitive eyes, he again spoke softly… “How did Emi come to be here? I found her mother, the boys, and her gone just after the revolt… they must have escaped with Alexander… for he is absent as well…”
Hearing slight whispers behind him, he glances back at Robin and Ivella standing in the doorway looking at the trio. “Come, let us go downstairs… food is prepared…” then he rose and extended his hands. “Want me to take her?”
The kiss to her cheek lingered, and her eyes closed softly… A hand laying on his cheek as well... What a tender, yet innocent gesture, that was filled with such love and longing between the two, that yet could not be public. It was these little moments, they each lived for, these little moments stolen time that entwined their souls together, no matter distance or time. Mossy green eyes lifted as Emi was given over to her father and Chloe stood… Laying a hand on his forearm, another gesture of love and familiarity that was no lost between the two… “A steward brought her here... Mother Ivella and Lindall have been tending her.” came the answer to his question of his daughter. “I have had Kane inquiring into the whereabouts of your Sons… and your wife and father.” the emphasis being on the boys, as she could care less if Keliana or Alexander, either one, rotted in hell. The next piece of information would be just as pertinent… “Theodore Robertson’s children are here in the castle as well… Under Lindall’s care... It seems their father has disappeared, there were rumors he was a target of the masked invaders?” At this point Chloe had no idea that Alex and Duncan were not the blood children of Iain, but bastards of Keliana’s affair with Theadore. As they met Ivella and Robin and continued to the dining hall, Chloe would offer in a whisper only for him… “We shall find a private moment... Later when the children are asleep.”
“My sincerest thanks to Ladies Ivella and Lindall… and a special thanks for yu… I shall reward the steward for sure…” With a chuckle… “I dun care about Kel and my Father… they can rot in hell… and that Theodore… I am sure their just reward will find them.” He gave a smirk… Iain just laughed quietly… “No wonder Theodore is missing… I shall tell yu why later…”
Downstairs, the people of Eilean Donan was gathering for the evening meal… New guests, and residents, being served as life anew began to unfold under the freedom now afforded them. It was as if a “First Supper” was being intiated…
Old clan ways succumbed to new… and at the forefront were the Aberdeen, MacGregor, MacDonald, and the Robertson… But change causes resistance… Resistance to change, the action taken by individuals and groups when they perceive that a change that is occurring as a threat to them… and that feeling of threat to life, formed new enemies… For those facing a new life, would be facing new enemies…
The dinner had been torturous to say the least, he had been so close, yet separated by the table and other bodies between them. She in her mourning gown, mourning the husband, the chieftain of her clan, hair pulled back demurely in a low bun, no jewelry or artifice, save a gold cross that hung from a chain about her neck. The talk of the table was lively, as the good people enjoyed their dinner and conversation, and when at last it was done and the service dismissed. The men would offer smoke and manly talk in one of the drawing rooms, while the ladies partook of music and poetry recital in another. “I beg your Grace, I’m not up to conversation this evening.” she spoke to Qynn who as the daughter of the Argyll was their hostess this eve… “I will retire if you please..?” the girl nodded understanding the grief the woman must be feeling…
For the evening meal, Iain dressed the part of clan laird the best he could considering all his belongings were back at Dun Darroch… and his manners were those expected of the same. Though, across the table sat the love of his life. Difficult as it was, he acted the part of friend and nothing further. In his lap, sat the abandoned daughter, Emily. His consoling ways livened up the little girl’s attitude, but when her eyes met Chloe’s they would always light up. But when the men started to regroup elsewhere, he noticed Chloe speaking with Lady Qynn… then approach him.
Turning to go, Robin and Ivella at her side.. She stopped just short of Iain… “If you like... I could take Emily up and put her to bed as well... While you.. Join the men ?” after all the child had been in her and Ivella’s care for days now, why wouldn’t she offer such.
He nodded to Lady Ivella and smiled at Robin. Oh, if Robin only knew… Silently, he swore to make sure Robin would begin to know him better, hoping one day to win the boy over. Looking at Chloe when she offered to take Emily, he smiled… “You wish to go with Lady Chloe?” The little golden haired girl smiled and hugged her Father, excited about being able to play with Robin again. Standing with Emi in his arms, he kissed the girl’s cheek… “Sleep well, Da shall be up later…” and he told her he loved her in Gaelic. Handing her to Chloe, he mouthed “thank you…” and watched them all leave.
And afterwards, he would retire to the other room with the men… clan politics, the results of war, and the Griffin future plans were discussed. Sharing drinks with one another, he saw those present begin to bond and he smiled at Adam’;s efforts. Hopefully the King would be able to get such response all over the Nations.
Much Later that night….
Robin and Emily had been fed, washed, played with, prayers said and now slept soundly in Chloe’s bed, tucked in snuggly and sleeping the sleep of angels. Chloe closed the door upon them smiling softly. As she moved into the sitting room, sending the servants out for the night. “I will clean up the toys and such.” she nodded closing the door behind the last, before moving to pick up the lines of toy soldiers, books and dolls that littered the floor of the room. A fire flickered cheerfully as the remnants of childhood were put away, only to be pulled out by mornings light by Robin and Emi again.
Once the room was straightened she found herself pacing back and forth like a nervous girl awaiting a suitor. It seemed as if ages had passed since those nights in the cells, where they talked and touched fingers all night long.. Awaiting death… together… And now... They were free, yet still confined and waiting to hear of their fate. Searc was dead… she was a widow... But Iain was still married... and a trial hung over their heads. Her hand dropped to the soft swell of life in her belly, she had just felt the first flutters of movement only the day before, making it all the more real… how could she tell him that she carried a child... a child that could be Carver McDonald’s... a villain, the man who had started this whole war… a man who had taken her by force… or.. Mark’s… a man who Iain looked at as if he were his brother…? She didn’t know what outcome could be worse… The clock on the mantle ticked each minute past… that seemed both blessing and curse. How could one wish someone to be with her, and dread it all the same? She moved to the window and pressed her forehead against the cold panes, her breath fogging the edges as she tortured herself with what if’s and what should be’s…
A gentle rap upon the door, he would alert her to his presence… How long had he stood at the door, his hand poised to knock…only to hesitate? He never hesitated in combat, whether on the field of battle or in the chambers of his wife… but Chloe… it had been so long, and so much had occurred. She was as beautiful to him as the first day they realized they loved one another as adolescents. But now there was a haze where the glow once was… Finally, his knuckles met wood as he found the strength to see her….
Mossy green eyes turned toward the portal that sounded against his knuckles, a giddy excitement swelled to overwhelm the dread of not knowing how he would react to the news of her pregnancy, a smile overtook the firm line that had just before graced her lips, and skirts were lifted as she ran the few steps to the door, pulling it open without hesitation, instead, the love she bore him shining upon her features. “Iain…” his name was a breathless ode to love, never so spoken with so much fevor nor adoration, from any other woman in his life… Her hands caught his pulling him inside befor the door was shut, the lock bolted, before she turned to him, the light of happiness shining upon her face for him… “It has been too long…” she murmered as she leaned against the door, her back to it... Awaiting his words... His actions... All of him.
Her voice… her touch… It was like lightning and thunder to his senses. He watched her shut the door and locked it… and when she turned to him, she offered him the same expression last time they were alone… Her stance lured him to her… and he said nothing… he only pressed his form against hers, his mouth captured her in an overzealous kiss, one the gods would blush… No thoughts of yesteryear, days past, or lost moments between them. Passion and desire stepped aside whilst lust strode in…
These two were not ones for civility nor propriety in sex, or making love if you wish to name it… and their clothes sent asunder, the racket that resounded in the room, and the moans and groans of passion, were prime examples. And this time was none less… even moreso given the affects of the last few months… the sequestering of her due to the husbandly fight, the battle of Sleat, and the horrors of Dun Darroch.
Her husband’s mourning period was not yet over, and now they delved into passion that had been long delayed. And as he lay next to her upon her bed… his course hand rode along her scars… tenderly tracing them. And when she rolled to him, he smiled, not knowing how to approach her. His slate grey eyes veered to her growing stomach… and then to her face. “Must we talk? Or shall I just listen?”
She had rolled toward him with the sweet look of love and adoration on her face, a light from within shinning in the depths of her mossy green hues.. When his eyes dropped down to the naked swell of her lower belly, the smile faded, and lips pressed into a thin line, a look of indecision on her face.. Grasping the edge of the sheet she pulled it upward covering her nudity… “I would love to answer you with the simple fact, that this is my child, and will be loved and raised as such.. And that be the end of it...” that would be a wonderous soulution, to just say it, have it done and over with.. Her child… No Carver, no Mark… None of the terror of things that had happened over the past few months. “But I know that will not suffice, for you... Or the other people in my life who will expect and answer... Or whisper of their own thoughts…” a sad smile crossed her face before she pushed back long dark strands of chesnut hair... And sat up, her back against the headboard, eyes trained on the fire that flickered in the heart… “I guess after all this time apart, and people pulling us apart, and making our way for us... Impossible… I need to tell you everything, so that if you walk away from me... It will be for the truth, and not some rumor, half truth of ill conceived reason of someone else, to steal our future…” her jaw stiffened for a moment before she begain, her eyes never leaving the fire, she couldn’t’ bear to look at him…
Times, as such they had together, were often enjoyed to the fullest. Whenever they spent company upon one another, the love endured all facets of occurrences. Stolen moments were part of their lives together, from now, past unto childhood together. Fun and games as children turned into adolescent experiments… young adulthood found them rolling in haystacks, or sharing a cot in the servant’s quarters where Lord Alexander did nay dare to roam… marriage between them was stolen by betrothal to others… yet even in marriage, they found time for one another. Their lives were true attestments to their love…
And now she spoke of a babe, yet unborn, and she spoke with authority. She had never been submissive, unless she felt so, but this instance she spoke with total command of her own physical well-being. “Aye lass, I understand… truth is what I need, nay the soft sell of a vendor…” She spoke of a child, the truth in the obvious, as his eyes looked to hers, to her belly, and back to her face.
“I do not know what you knew of what happened with Me and Searc... But before he died I forgave him... We had come to a truce of sorts, and he knew of this child, and knew it was not his... But accepted it as he did Robin… and would give it his name if I wished it... But that night, last January… Searc and I both visited horrors on one another... He first attacking me, raping me, and taking me as a man takes another man... Beating me until I and everyone else thought surely I would die... And when he fell asleep... I took his manhood... Castrated him, so that he could never do that again.. That night is what started all this… Ivella sent him to Cartersvalle to recouperate... And sent me to a hunting lodge under the guise that we both suffered from the plague… Mark cared for me... For the months it took me to recover… Every thing I needed he saw to... He gave me reasons to live, reminded me of you… And Robin... Of a future I could still have… When I wanted to die, when I felt like nothing, Searc had beaten out every piece of me that even clung to life... And Mark was there... Doing his duty… To me and to you caring for me and seeing me returned whole and well… It took months for me to heal, and when I came back to Dunsgate, there were reports of Carvers legions headed to Cartersvale... To attack Searc… I had no time to messanger you, the king, or anyone… It was at the Parlay meeting that day, when all Hell broke loose that Carver MacDonald captured me and shamed me, he raped me, brutality, and Dubhlain MacDonald stopped it, but not before he could sew his seed.” her words were wooden as if she told someone else’s tale, as if these horrors that had been visited upon her belonged to someone else. And in truth they did, for she was no longer the woman she had been when these things happened. She had aged, grown, and changed. She would never be a man's victim again.
He was a host to mixed emotions… affection, rage, sorrow, relief, torment, horrow, and pity… as she spoke of events that had occurred. Things, he knew nothing of… nor could he have prevented them… He knew not truth, only rumor… whispers of damaging evidence… Yet now he was getting the blunt truth…
She stood then moving out of the bed wrapping the sheet about her and moving to the fire, her back to him… “I needed to feel whole again, like a woman again... I needed to feel that I was alive… when I returned to Dunsgate from… the hunting lodge… Just for an hour… not even a whole night…” she turned looking at him with eyes that both begged foregivness and understanding… “I do not think you could possibly understand how it feels to be so used and degraded… its as if you think you are as ugly and dirty as the deed done to you… I needed to know... I could still stand the touch of a lover… I needed to feel… Something besides hatred and rage…” now tears coursed down her cheeks as she tried to make him understand.
He watched her move from the bed, to the fire… the mere silhouette of her, waivered any anger or resentment. “Chloe…” he wanted to move to her, but knew it best to give her distance… “I cannot feel as you did…nor even know the extent of actions and emotions you endured…” but he would say no more, for she desired to explain it all… regardless of the pain…
Perhaps at this point, she would be confused in her rambling ways about the events… “This child could be the child of Carver MacDonald… my worst enemy… or of Mark Collier.” there the words were out… “There were only the space of 5 days between them... And no real way to know for sure…” She stood there, backlit by the dying fire, her chin tilted up a bit in defiance…
The emotion flourished within as she spoke… he restrained the rage he felt for Carver… and the distrust he now held for Collier. He fought to disavow any ill-will toward his friend. The man had done what he was commanded to do by his Lord… and the volatile situation he, by circumstance, had created for Chloe and Mark. He hated that Mark had betrayed him, but wondered if his own situation with Keliana was any different. He moved from the bed, dragging the fur to the floor… laying it before Chloe… and then he knelt, naked, before her…
“I did not care for this child in the dungeons of Dun Darroch... I cared not if it’s fate was bound to mine and the axeman’s.. But when I took Searc’s body home... I felt the baby quicken inside me... Move... And I realized that I love this child, as I love Robin... It is a part of me... It’s mine... And no matter what anyone thinks... It will not be fostered to another family, nor given to a convent for keeping just because it’s roots were possibly in violence or adultery… I love this baby.” now her hands moved over her womb... “I’m it’s mother…”
Looking up at her, he knelt, bare, physically and emotionally, before her; the sparkling and snapping of the roaring fire illuminating them, and directing shadows at its flickering commands. He listened, his hand reached for hers, as she stood, hands before her… As she spoke, his hand would lay atop hers, dictating no emotion… only supportive caresses and squeezes…
While he listened, part of his mind wrapped around what she said, and the other half shot back years to his earlisest memories of his youth… If his father had only loved him, the way she professed to love this unborn child…. He loved Chloe since the beginning… she was his destiny… he knew it so… He knew what she said was true… for he himself was a bastard… the fruits from a Lord’s desire of a peasant woman. Alexander did not love the woman, nor the child… Chloe loves hers, even as unborn… One note was the absolute care she gave Emily… to accept her as her own, just because she was his…
Now what would Iain do? Would he accept this child as his… or renounce it as he had been? Would he hold Mark in contempt? Questions… so many questions… and he had all the answers, he just needed to make decisions…
Silence reigned… save the boisterous fire… the flames illuminating her… Looking up at her…. “Chloe… the love of my life… I pray that I shall be a good father… to Robin… to Emily… to this child…” he looked up at her, as he knelt upon both knees, his hands caressing hers. “Love me… and we shall be ever the strongest… I cannot allow us… our clans nor family, to live in the past… we have nothing but the future before us… The dungeons of my own home showed me the err of my ways… and the higher power has granted us freedom… The King is changing life as we know it… and we can change with it… My mother said once… Love me, love my child… and we both were renounced… Now I profess, I love yu… and shall love yer child… regardless…”
He moved closer to her on his knees… his hands moved to her slightly rotund belly on two sides… and his forehead in the center… “My child…yu shall be loved… come into this world welcomed…” and he looked up at her face and smiled.[/color]
