Return to Dunsgate

[Lord Iain Robertson]

The cold winds of winter had settled on the lands, leaving it a frozen landscape of ice and snow... The sea-born winds seemed to always kick up the swirling delicate flakes into the air that gave Dunsgate a fairytale castle look from far away, as if someone iced the castle with frosting. Wreaths of evergreens were hung on doors and leaded glass windows, and from within a golden warm glow seemed to beckon all in... Dunsgate was open for the holidays for friends and family… The halls were full of the sounds of children playing, Robin, Thad, Auggie, Emily, and the cooks daughter Rosie, were laughing as they helped deocrate the huge tree that was settled in the great hall. The air smelled of baked goods and spices, servants played music, and even Ivella had joined in the festivities of the Yule. A huge log burned in the fireplace, while generations stood side-by-side to hang the decorations on the tree. Chloe and Ivella settled in rocking chairs near the fire as they watched. Ivella, too old to step upon ladders to place the decorations on the tree that was some 15 feet high, and Chloe too pregnant to take such a risk. However the Christmas spirit was not lost upon them, and their voices joined in with the children and servants as songs of festivity were sung, hot cider sipped, and sweet pasties devoured. Mistletoe had been hung in the arches and doorways, evergreens sprays down staircases and bannisters, complete with holly and combs of pine. It seemed as if this year there was much to say goodbye to, and hope for a bettering of the new year. It had been weeks since Chloe had seen Iain, he was off to try and find Alex and Duncan and secure his divorce, but had promised to return to Dunsgate by Christmas Eve… News had come of Lindall’s giving birth to her son, and a letter from her sister-in-law had glowed thru the words at the joy of the baby boy’s birth. It seemed that Dublain was completely enamored of the child... And Lindall...

Happy beginnings that Chloe prayed would continue for her Sister and her husband… As a surprise for Ivella, Chloe was keeping the secret of Lindall’s upcoming visit for the New Year. Christmas would be spent for Lindall and Dublain on Rassay, with their new son, but Ivella’s new grandson would make his first official visit to his ancestral home on the first day of the new year. New Beginnings... Joyful new beginnings. As for Shyvonne and Mark, Chloe had heard little, save that they were settled back at the academy and making repairs after the fires and damage, Chloe dreaded the second week of the new year when her noisy home would become silent without the sounds of Robin, Thad and Auggie, and Rosie in their never ending chatter and play throughout Dunsgate, it seemed as if they lived larger than life each minute afforded them. January would see them all off to he Acadmy to resume their education with Shyvonne at Oisles. She smiled watching the children hanging the ornaments on the tree... Musing over their future.. And what would be, a much better world her sons and daughters would inhabit... A world where there were no boundries, and everything was possible.

A gentle but ancient hand lay over her stomach as Ivella leaned foreward. “You think of the future?” she smiled patting the rounded flesh that held new life beneath it. Her wizened face wrinkled but still beautiful, stone grey eyes flickered with warmth and love for her daughter in law. “Chloe... No matter how I greive for Searc.. And miss my son, I loved him as you loved your children. But I also knew his faults… and in the end... So did he. We had many a talk while you were incarcerated in Dun Darroch… He truly grew to care for you, but above that respect you, for all you had done for this family, this clan. Even now, you shield his failings and secrets from everyone, and give him honor by naming this child and Robin as his.” The old woman knew well her son’s desires had never turned toward women, and that the providing him with two heirs, Chloe had help to keep the truth of his life hidden, even now his legacy was secure. “You and Searc built much here in Sleat, brought prosperity to us, united the clan and, if not for you, the clan would have been taken over by the MacDonald, and we might have lost everything.” Ivella recounted these things not having to prove to Chloe what her life with the MacGregor had meant, but rather to let Chloe know. She herself knew the sacrifice and pain Chloe had endured as Searcs wife… “I myself came to this Clan much like you, without choice, with love in my heart for another… and duty and children bound me to Searc’s father; much like you, I survived... But I have regrets... By the time he passed away… well... My chance with my true love had vanished... I was, and am, an old woman filled with regret, with duty and honor pinning me to my place in life…” A weathered face crinkled and eyes watered as she remembered the one she had let go. The love she had sent away, in favor of family and honor. “There are those who will nay like you marrying the Robertson so soon, there are those who will nay like it at all… But I give you my blessing... Be happy… be loved and love... Raise your children in love and warmth and make a life for yourself you will not regret when you are my age..” Her eyes strayed to the children that decorated the tree and a smiled creased her aged face… “So Many Christmas’s… I’ve spent alone… Aye, I have had my children, and you and Robin... But… I was still alone inside…” her hand went to her heart and patted the frail space there…

Chloe and Ivella would sit for long moments holding hands, old in young, kindred souls over generations, while the new generations prepared for the Yuletide…

Summer of bloodshed had turned into an autumn of transformation.

He had spent the last days of summer looking for Alexander and Duncan… and in a barn south of the entrance to MacLeod’s Tables, he and his men cornered some of Alexander’s men… men responsible for escorting his boys, including Theodore’s boys, to Keliana at Alexander’s stronghold hideout. Once the boys were reassured they would not be harmed and escorted back to Dun Darroch, Iain led the onslaught of those men… killing each one for their traitorous acts against clan and Crown. Buried in unmarked graves off the beaten path, the men would never be found.

Returning to Dun Darroch, the transformation was in full swing. Stone was turned, carved, and reset… tapestries destroyed by fire were replaced as funds became available… families left penniless by deaths of wage-earners were coveted by clan wings… Dun Darroch was busy with rebuilding from ashes of clan wars…

And it was Iain that set upon the mainstay to see the Robertson homestead was once again the glory of the northwestern coast. He got his hands dirty, right alongside the peasant… Instead of his hands calloused by the sword hilt, it was the trawl and hammer… No longer was his father underfoot to subversively hamper what he wanted. Standing back, looking at his handiwork on the wall, he smiled knowing Alexander was a man wanted by the Crown for treason…

By the last turns of autumn, Iain and the boys… Alexander and Duncan, Thad and Auggie, all worked on the place all would call home… with the promise of Yuletide in the south as a family. All five males worked alongside each other… the boys treated as sons by the older man, brothers with one another. Iain treated them as HE desired to be treated for so many years… Chloestrain’s words lingered in his ears; and in times of bad tidings, it was his fatherly advice that brought them together as one unit, working out their differences as a family. The hard work they all did on the family dwelling seemed to institute a sense of pride… pride that one day may bring them into an alliance against all those that would destroy what they had built.

The second snow of winter had halted transformation efforts… which would resume in the spring… and after assuring each family could be set for winter, Iain gathered the boys around him at the grand hearth. Standing before them, one hand upon the mantle, he smiled at the boys… “Duncan, Thaddius, Alexander, Auggie… I wanted to say how proud I am of you all… you have worked hard… and the efforts we made, are showing off. Hold yer heads high, chin out, at what you have accomplished. No family shall go hungry this winter… each and every member of clan Robertson shall have a warm place to live… Gone are the days of war… Yuletide is upon us…” he smiled, as the boys looked to one another, then to their own hands, feeling pride in what had occurred over the short period of three months.

“In the morn, we travel south to Dunsgate… Lady Chloestrain and Emily will be surprised at our arrival…” and the boys fell into giddy talk of Yuletidings… “Venison… Mince pie… Puddings…frumenty…” each lad would look to the other and call off their favorite… “Aye… all… til yer hearts desire…” Iain said… and they began laughing.

The sun shone bright over the horizon… God’s gift to Iain and the boys, promising good weather for travel… The carriage was prepared before sunrise… and by dawn’s early light, all baggage had been secured and the boys loaded. “Dunsgate… and make haste…” Iain smiled at the driver and entered the carriage; which started with a jolt… and behind it rode twelve knights of Robertson.

It would take the better part of two days to get to the MacGregor estate in Sleat.

Finally, on the road to Dunsgate, a knight rode next to the carriage… “Dunsgate ahead MiLord…” and Iain smiled…bowing his head as he closed the material over the window. The boys were asleep under the furs, all huddled to keep warm, when Iain shook them. “Awaken yae sloths… we are here.” The boys opened sleepy eyes… and as soon as their senses were regained, chatter began to resonate inside the bouncing carriage.

With a jolt, the carriage halted outside the large manor… and Iain opened the door to a retinue of servants all clapping gloved hands together at the boys arrival. One by one the boys exited the carriage… and all five visitors were ushered quickly inside.

Inside, channeled by the servants, the boys removed cloaks and coats to reveal clothing of noble children…while the Lord Robertson stood behind them; all waiting on the Mistress of Dunsgate to receive them… and when Chloe entered the hallway, it seemed like she was in slow motion heading toward them… Iain just smiled.

Once the Mistress of Dunsgate approached, all five males bowed deep… with Iain rising first… “M’Lady Chloestrain… Happy Yuletide… Here as promised…” he spoke outloud, his arms spread apart indicating the four boys… They would be a sight to see… properly mannered, appropriately dressed for the season and their status… though their hands would be calloused from hard work.

She had risen slowly a hand going to her fully rounded belly, before she made her way to greet her most welcome guest of the Holiday, a smile that could light the heavens upon her face as she greeted first the four young men who stood before her.

Before she could announce the proper greeting Robin and Emily had run to catch up, Emily rushing her father with less than proper greeting but all the love a little girl could hold for him, in a rush her arms encircled his waist, as she bounded into him like a playfull puppy “Papa Papa ! Welcome home.”

His heart raced as his daughter wrapped her arms around his waist. Picking her up, he kissed her cheek and huigged her tightly. “Happy Yule tide my darling… Da has missed yu sooo much.” Setting down the lil girl so she could return to her kin.

There was a slight laugh behind her as Robin came to stand sagely at his mother’s side, and Chloe’s voice lifted in laughter… “Indeed, you are all welcome here.. What fine young men you all are, you’ve grown so much since last I saw you.” Mossy green hues fell over each boy with a warm embrace of arms as well… “Alex , Duncan, Thad, and Auggie... There is food and drink, with the other children to welcome you from your journey.” She looked down at her son who was smiling to see his friends and the new boys Alex and Duncan. He was still confused as to what and who they were to him, but new playmates in a house too long filled with only adults, what could be wrong with that.. “Robin… could you see the boys to the great hall?” She gave her son the duty of host during the Christmastide celebration. Watching the boys and Emily run off to find pastries candies and cakes before the present opening began, she then turned her attention to Iain…

Looking to Chloe, he mouth’s a thank you… slate grey eyes relating the hidden emotion between them. His hands urged forth the four boys.. “Go ahead lads, Master Robin shall show you all around.” His eyes then looked toi Robin with pride. His own, who could not be part of his life… yet. And the wait was despairing, knowing his own blood mixed with Chloe, yet the lad knew differently.

“Welcome Lord Robertson to Dunsgate…” there was a vixen’s smile in her eyes, full lips parted to offer the greeting, then press a corgial kiss to his cheeks… “I’m sure you will enjoy my hospitality more than I enjoyed Dun Darroch last I was there.” Humor…? Then a laugh as she winked at him and turned to lead him into the great hall. For proprieties sake, she was still a grieving widow, and it was in her dead husband’s they stood... There would be no public displays of affection for wagging tongues, or reasons to taint her reputation. Iain was greeted as any other Chieftan would be in a great house with all the respect due him. There would be time enough for intimacies later when the Yule log burned low and the house slept soundly.

As the children departed for locations known only to Robin, Iain stood there and looked to Chloe. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her into his being… but he also realized placement. She was the chieftain of the MacGregor… and he, the Robertson, and she was yet in mourning of a dead husband. He cants his head and smirks… “I pray that shall be the case M’Lady… Hospitality WAS a bit lacking in your previous visit to Struan.” Then he chuckled softly.

Later after all was settled into their rooms... and the day went pretty cordial... everyone oprepared for the night's entertainment....

The merriment went on into the night, presents were opened and unwrapped, mead and ale drunk by the cask fulls as they all celebrated. Dancing was done, and the night wore down until young ones were taken in had up the stairs and settled to sleep awaiting the mornings arrival... Midnight came and Mass was celebrated in the chapel; Chloe sitting with Ivella on the front pew, as they listened to the priest recite the Christmas passages, and bless them all into the new year… Then departed the Chapel to escort her mother-in-law to her rooms bidding her goodnight with a kiss to a withered cheek.

Cordial… proper… friendly… Those were the words that would describe the evening… though minds and hearts desired much more; it was not the time nor place whilst his beloved was in “mourning” for her dead husband. It had been years since they were able to be as one, and a few more days would be endured.

The Robertson members, there in Dunsgate, would also attend Mass, sitting not with the MacGregor, but farther back in the visitor’s section. And even after, they followed the MacGregor back to the castle proper, far behind any member of the family clan.

Proper protocol maintained throughout the night, even eye gestures were kept to a minimal sop prying eyes would not see…, Iain stood in the Great Hall until most everyone had retired. And to the rest, he excused himself. Down the corridor the moved slowly, and in a small alcove, he slipped into the darkness, watching servants moving to and fro, finally figuring out where Lady Chloestrain’s room was…. And he waited.

It was weary steps that brought her to her own rooms, but a beautiful smile that lit her face when she saw him waiting in the corridor… Without word she moved to him, embracing him as tightly as her full term belly would allow, whispering against his ear, with a hurried and fervent voice “I have waited so long for you , it was killing me to act as if I do not love you with all my heart and soul.” all thru the night they had acted as only friends, fellow chieftans as she attended her guests, and the formalities of those duties, all the while wishing she could only be in his arms.

Hearing stuttered footfalls of whom he suspected was his beloved, he peeked around the corner. Seeing her, he smirked and stood in the corridor, leaning against the stone wall. And he saw the smile fill her face as she saw him… Coming to him, embracing her, his lips kissing her neck as she wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke. “SSShhh, I know m’dear… tis difficult, but we have persevered this long… Our dreams come true soon. We shall endure yet a bit more.” And he looked at her face.

Quick passionate kisses found his lips before she pulled him into her suite of rooms... The child in her belly kicking and rolling at the sudden surge in it’s mother’s heartbeat. “The wee one welcomes you as well.” she murmered as the door was shut behind them..

The kisses they shared always fired something within and they moved thru the quickly opened door. As he broke the kisses and stood there before her… her belly against his, he smiled at the kicking the babe did within. “Aye, I can tell…” and he knelt, his hands, upon her rotund belly… a kiss was placed upon the material… “My child, life shall soon begin for you… and I shall be here waiting, with all the love in my heart.” Though it was not his, it was part of her… and his love having endured so much, he had accepted that bloodlines were important, but not all encompassing.

The lady’s handmaid emerged from another room of the suites to observe the man kneeling before her lady, his lips upon the belly. Though he knew of the woman’s presence, he did not flinch nor react. He just stood nonchalantly and grey eyes veered from his beloved Chloe to the small young female.

A Lady’s maid was waved away, the girl was trustworthy and would not tell the story of the Chieftans’ Midnight meeting in the lady’s room. “To bed with you Helena…” Chloe spoke softly handing the girl a small parcel wrapped in bright cloth and ribbon. “Merry Christmas.” …a gift for a loyal friend and servant. The girl thanked her then hugged her tightly before bowing to Iain and dissipearing out into the castle. The door was locked behind her against prying eyes and gossiping tongues.

“Merry Christmas, lass…” he finally said to the girl as she curtseyed; having been given leave, and started to depart.

And then they were truly alone… Chloe moved to the dresser before her bed, then turned with a small box, wrapped in ribbon in her hand… “I have a present for you as well, Lord Robertson.” she wiggled the box in a teasing manner, before crawling onto the bed and settling, kicking off slippers that pinched swollen feet, resting and aching back on pillows as she watched him with eyes full of adoration.

As he watched the door close, he saw Chloe move out of his peripheral visions, and with a slight turn of the head. “Oh really?” he gave a smirk. Moving to the bed, he crawled on all fours to settle next to her when she held out a small gift. Settling upon the pillows, he accepted the gift and looked at it.

Once he had joined her on the bed, she moved into his arms placing the box in his hands. “Open it... It is for us both…” she looked on with the delight of a woman in love reveling in her lover’s very company. As the box would be opened, it would reveal two gold rings, engraved with their names inside the band… “We can not wear them on the fingers they should be on… now... But soon…”

With her cradled in his arms, he opened the gift and to his surprise, he gave only that usual smirk. “Vera Nice lass… But is this not my position to give you rings.” He chuckles. “You are nay one for tradition.” And he laughed.

She took the smaller of the two and slid onto his pinki... Giving him the larger to slide onto her thumb… “You are the husband of my heart… you always have been... Always will be…” There was a moment when she pressed a kiss to his lips, that was not mearly the kiss of lovers, but something deep abiding and written in the annuals of history. A kiss that stirred not only the heart, but the soul... It was a kiss of destiny being full field, a promise of a life of love, and a covenant between the two that forever would be theirs together.

“Aye lass, we have been promised to one another for as long as I can remember… but life, unfortunately, has not been accommodating…” and he accepted the rings willingly, though on the wrong finger. “Soon, life will turn out differently for us…” And he shifted, his lips finding hers… and delved into a passionate kiss of love unabiding.

There would be no moments of lust or passion, only soft kisses, for her term was to near to broach a body that was filled to the brim with new life... Already the pains that let her know the time drew near, made her back ache; a constant hand held there to warm the base of her spine, signaling the birth would be less in days, perhaps in hours soon… So they would be content to lay in each others arms, sharing kisses and soft touches, and words spoken of their hopes and dreams for the future. He spoke of his news, of finding the boys, and his restoration of Dun Darroch, as well as the outcome of his marriage to Keliana. As she lay curled within his arms,there would be no sleep tonight as she would not miss a minute of being with him not even to rest. They had been separated far too long, and there were still months to go until the grass turned green in the spring.

Intimacy… a state of emotion that they could settle into easily. Physical intimacy was forgone given her condition, but mentally satisfied remained the forefront, given years of absence. It was a time to update, reflect, remember, and plan futures.

[Lord Iain Robertson]

Change of Heart

From the discussion between Iain and Mark after ED:

“Iain… I wanted to say, that my love for yu has never faltered… nor shall it… You are, if I had one, closer than a brother…” Mark spoke softly…

Iain’s expression changed, and he grabbed Mark by the jacket, spinning him, and pressing him to the wall. “Well brother, you EVER come around Chloe again, I shall kill you…” his eyes narrowed and darkened… and he spoke in a gruff but lowered voice. “I trusted you with everything I own… and you kicked me in the balls… I know about the baby, I am nay stupid… and ye shall nay play me as such…” he paused… “And to ease yer mind… Chloe did not tell me… yu did by yer lack of action and words… But know this, I swear by all that is Holy, if yu see her again… I will kill you… but to show I am a good man… Your Shyvonne shall ne’r know…lest you tell her… I shant be the cause of your failure…” releasing his jacket, he pushed Mark away. “Go with yer woman… and leave me to mine… and yer bastard… I shall raise him, not like Alexander did me… I am a better man…” The expression upon Iain’s face was odd… the most strange Mark would ever see.

Mark was taken aback by Iain’s actions and words… but he never raised a hand, nor said a word, in defense… Only his eyes would speak for him, never to leave the floor, for he had lowered his eyes as Iain looked at him. A simple nod was all he did. And when Iain pushed him, he stumbled a bit and leaned against the wall. “Your wish is my command, M’Lord… as it always has been…” As he started to walk away, Mark softly said... “Iain, I forgive you… and pray that you shall me, one day… but yu know not what ye talk about…” one last line of defense.

Iain huffed and did not look at Mark, disappearing into his room.

From Mark and Shyvonne SL at Oisles Academy after ED:

Every letter, as hurtful as they were, were organized and locked away into her writing cabinet. Next came letter writing. One draft of notice that she would meet with those parents who wished audience with her and then a secret letter. If Mark had thought his emotions would go unnoticed or unheeded, he had been sorely wrong and it was only because of her love for him that she penned Iain at all, and sent Leigha out with the letters to give to Liadan, the parental letter to be copied by the staff and sent out along with the single letter to Iain with all haste.

My Lord Robertson,
It is my sincerest hope your departure from Eilean Donan will be a pleasant one when it finds you. If such is not all ready in the works. While I fully believe we all have better days before us, I pray your journey to such is neither difficult nor long.

I must confess my writing to you holds more meaning than to wish you well and it is my sincerest hope that you will hear me out before disregarding this letter all together as I am writing to you concerning Mark.

I know not the cause of strife between the two of you and only assume to such as Mark was in good spirits as we made plans to depart from Eilean Donan and yet his spirits were diminished as we departed the lands. I confess to seeing a tear in my husbands eye, something that quite shocks me as I know well enough of men to general believe they do not shed tears unless deeply grieved.

Whatever the cause from one who has lost the only brother in her life, I ask you not let this distance between the two of you to linger. It is well known Searc and I did not get along much in life but is with his passing I now understand my brother more. Though many, yours included, I am sure, thought my brother a bad man and yet he was not so. He was vastly misunderstood and lived in a time that was rapidly changing and one he was not ready for.

Please try to understand my position. I deeply regret not having this understanding of my brother while he was live, if such were so, perhaps we would not of quarreled as we had. It is not that I wish to mend the past between me and my brother through the two of you but without though my husband as said nothing of it, I see the agony of your lost kinship and wish only to see my husband happy and content.

I do not predict such things will come to pass between you and Mark. I wish to shield you both from future regrets. We must treasure those we have with us now, so when the time comes that they depart from this world, we are not left with the regret for things we meant to say or times we have wished we had spent with them.

Mark has always held you in such high regards, it is his words of honor and praise and the actions that I have come to know of you lately, that I have come to respect you so. Whatever has caused you two to part in such discontent, I ask, can it not be mended? While times and people in Skye are ever changing, our need for allies is still quite at hand. For many, people with whom they can trust are far and in between. I know from the deepest part of my heart that Mark is still a man you can rely on as an ally and trusted friend, nay better then such, a brother.

Please do not think he asked me to write you, he knows naught of this. It is my final wish, that you take my words to heart, I can only hope you will think on what I have said, even if you decide to do naught from them, that you have thought on them.

May God Bless and Keep You,
Shyvonne Collier

Iain strolled the halls of Dunsgate, attempting to familiarate himself to new surroundings. It was odd being around a place where his enemy of emotions, Searc, once lived. But the man was dead, and his beloved Choe invited him to stay the winter in the south, while Dun Darroch would be repaird. It was in one of the halls, not long after the Yuletide, that a messenger found him.

“A missive from Lady Collier, MiLord. It was sent to Struan and was rerouted back here.” The servant bowed, as if Iain was lord of the manor here. “My Thanks…” he nodded to the servant. Iain was a different man nowadays… but his interest peaked when the Lady Shyvonne was mentioned. What could she possibly write about? Unless it was about Robin attending the Academy?! He tore open the missive, breaking the MacGregor seal.

He began to read it… and almost half way thru the letter, he grumbled and crumpled the letter in his hand. The other running back over a short-cropped-haired head. “How can such a lady stand by that man!!” he mumbled… Iain started to walk again in the corridors… And when Lady Ivella passed him in the hall, he bowed deep… an act that she would have never believed possible. Could it be that Chloe had tamed the Lion of Struan?

“Bad news MiLord…?” the old woman mumbled… “Nay M’Lady…” he responded… “Tis a personal matter b’tween a close friend and me…”

Ivella smiled… “Sit MiLord Robertson…” she continued… as both sat on a couch in the hallway. “Iain, if I may, troubles between old friends need not mar the spice of life… we are all here for a short time upon this earth… Me losing my son… his widow planning on marrying a Robertson, giving my grandson to him to raise… my daughter marrying a macDonald, the other a member of yer clan sept…” she shakes her head. “Some would claim that all that would be the death of me… but alas, I am still here… and as stubborn as ever…” she placed a wrinkled hand upon his knee.

“It seems we all must change… or die regretting what was, or hating ourselves for allowing what is…” She smiles. “Do yae understand MiLord?” Iain smiled back. “Iain would be most Kind M’Lady Ivella. Aye M’Lady… I take under consideration yer wiseness and experience in life…” Ivella smiled… “Now if yae shall escort an old woman to the gardens, I desire a brisk walk in the cold…” Iain smiled giving her his cloak. “M’Lady, take my cloak and stay warm… we wish you to stay healthy…” What a sight… Iain Robertson not only associating with a Sleat MacGregor, but being kind. “With M’Lady’s permission, I shall resign to the library as to write a letter…” then he smiled at her.

Iain bade the lady Ivella a goodbye, and watched her saunter into the garden to enjoy the brisk air of midday. Shaking his head at the lady, he turned and walked to the library. There at the desk, he uncrumpled the letter and read it again, this time in full. Sitting back in the chair, he pondered several things. He was sure that Mark worried for his future with Shy, afraid Iain would tell her of his infidelity with Chloe. But Iain was more of a man than to resort to such frivolity. Leaning forward, he dipped the quill into the well… and pondered the past.

Many years had Mark stood by Iain… thru thick and thin experiences… and stood back to back in war. Their friendship had amounted to more than either of them thought… and when Iain re-read the missive again, a tear came to his eye, imagining Mark crying at their last discussion.

Dear Lady Collier,

That does fit you well… as the Collier name is a proud sept of the Robertson clan. They were most beautiful. Mark is well loved by them… and me… I wanted to take the time to say thank you for the gifts to Chloe and I.

I know we, he and I, have had many arguments over the years and regrettably the last time we spoke, I said things that was damaging… the issue is ours to bear, and no need to speak of it further. I am glad he has a wife who is so protective…

As we, Chloe, the children, and I are now in Sleat… at Dunsgate… tis the reason this missive is so late. If you would pass along to my brother Mark, that all is forgiven… and I miss him… Maybe, most graciously, we can all be together in the spring…

Fear nay M’Lady… Mark is… and always has been… my friend.

Sincerely,
Iain

Iain folder the letter, then set upon the edge a red wax, then impressed the ring into it. Standing and summoning a page, he blew on the wax to cool and harden it. “To Lady Shyvonne at Oisles Academy… and be quick…” He sat back in the chair, his hand rubbing his chin. Soft spoken, relaxed, forgiving, and not often brought to short temper… Was this the same Iain Robertson of years past?

It was several days following her sending of Iain letter, and subsequently his return letter, until it arrived at the Academy. The Baliff visit had left everyone on edge, but Shyvonne’s temper was soon abetted with the plans laid down for the Robin Hood. The symbol of a Robin had been chosen, for they were sparse, hardly ever seen except once in a while and it was fleeting, such fast-flying birds; their crimson color against the greenery of the lands was sharp for a moment when they lingered and then gone. Shyvonne had Collum choose the men to accompany them, not those of the Academy for their conscious sake.

Leigha knocked softly upon Shyvonne office door before entering with letter in hand. "My Lady, a letter from Lord Robertson."

Shyvonne sent a quick jerk of her head to Collum dismissing him and held out her hand for the letter. "Thank you Leigha. Master Collum and I were finished, you may continue working." She nodded toward Leigha’s desk before taking her own seat. The seal was broken and the letter unfolded. She held no ill will against Iain; idly she wondered if the man knew Chloe had demanded Shyvonne pay taxes on the Academy or lose it (even though Chloe had never written such).

After reading the contents of the letter, Shyvonne sat back within her chair with a sigh. She had never told Mark of writing to Iain about the great disturbance between them. It was not that she did not trust her husband, but felt her interference would not have been well-received by him. Still, she had not been a pleasant addition at the holidays though she had gifted the staff with much, as well as her husband, for the holiday itself, her attitude had been edged at best. He deserved a present that had not been material but from heart and with how upset it had been in the carriage home, she felt his spirits would be lifted in readying the letter. "Leigha, will you see this taken to my husband?" Shyvonne spoke as she folded the letter and handed over to Leigha.

Mark had just finished ensuring the stables were prepared for the upcoming classes. Registration had been slow, and fewer students would be in attendance. With that reduced attendance, he feared for the horses, so he assigned one to Collum to use, among others who did not have a horse. All free of charge… Mark would worry about the fiscal cost later.

As he turned to leave the stables, Leigha brought him the letter from Iain. Hesitantly, his fingers unfolded the letter. Blue eyes vibrated back and forth as he read… and a smile crossed his lips. “Thank you Leigha, that shall be all…” he folded the letter as he looked back at her.

Once she saw Leigha out the door she took up a new piece of parchment and dipped her pen into the inkwell before beginning a new letter.

My Lord Robertson,

I was most pleased to receive your letter and how graciously you compliment me. You are quite welcome for the gifts. In truth, I had them made for Robin should the trial turn to misfortune. It should come as no surprise that I have known for quite some time that Robin is yours, though Searc claimed him at birth. My heart grieves this loss for you. Searc was not a great man, nor father, even though he cared for my nephew enough by giving him his name.

Siblings often argue through the years, but it puts my heart at so much ease that you are willing to lay them all, this last one, however bad or damaging it was, aside. Our family has much healing to do and I am pleased you are willing to let this heal along with the rest of our wounds.

I am sorry I had to pass up the opportunity to visit with my family, as well as yourself, during the holidays but do promise a visit in the next day or so to pay respects to my family and as well, my brothers resting place. Alas, I will only be visiting a day or two but indeed, we may all get the chance to visit longer in the spring.

With renewed hope and respect,
Shyvonne Collier

The letter was sprinkled with sand to dry the ink before folded and wax set and her seal for the Academy put into the rapidly cooling wax. Rising from her desk, she went to find Liadan and handed the letter off. "Will you see this taken to Dunsgate as quickly as possible and handed over to the Lord Robertson only." The letter was handed off to Liadan and Shyvonne returned to her offices to continue with the days work.

Back in Dunsgate, Iain kept himself busy by reading, playing with the children and playing cards with the men of the estate. It was during one of the card games that the letter came. Pausing a bit, simply excusing himself from the table to read the missive alone. Sticking his head into the room… “Either continue the game or wait for me, I must pen a reply… My apologies M’lords…”

Into the library, sitting behind the oak table that belonged to the macGregor, Iain dipped the quill into the well.

Dear M’Lady Collier,
I, for one understand, the nature of a family torn… I am not called ‘bastard’ for nothing. But this can also be the seal we need to grow. I am grateful for all I have. The fear of not being around to see all my children grow had made me think much upon the future. I hold no ill toward the macGregor, and maybe someday they can accept me willingly, instead of Chloe forcing their hand.

You shall be missed during the holidays, and my grandest wish is for you and mark to be happy with one another. Should you ever require services of myself, or Chloe, do not hesitate; for we are all family now.

With all respect,
Iain

He folded the missive and poured hotwax upon the edge. Sealing it with the ring; the signet of the Robertson clan.

[Lord Iain Robertson]

A Babe is Born

And so these were how the days of the winter holidays would pass… By day, Chieftans, and friends, polite yet never seeming overly interested in the other. The days were passed by Iain with hunts, contests, gaming and training with the boys... And for Chloe, it was women’s circles, and the preparing for birth. Although with the coming of Lindall and Dublin, there were now three chieftans in the household, which meant a chance to set together and discuss the future of the three now-blended families… Robertson, MacGregor, and MacDonald. The nights were spent in solitude of lovers, time well-spent within Iain and Chloe’s hearts, time melding their love into a thing of reality, not years spent in longing, no longer, but a real firm love entrenched in one another’s souls.

Keeping their relationship hidden was no difficult feat, as they were experts in this task over their lives with one another. But being hidden was not all true, for many knew… but propriety would be observed without denial. Publicly, by day, it was mere glances, stolen smiles, a touch, even if it appeared as accidental or friendly by the Chieftains… Privately by night, it was the endless chatter of lovers’ plans and feelings… mere conversations with eyes upon one another… Physical satisfaction was restrained to other than coitus, if for nothing but relief of mental tension. Still, precious moments were savored without regard, nor care, of outside influences.

It would be this way until the eve of the new year, when in the middle of the first dance of midnight, the first dance of the new year, held between chieftans MacGregor and Robertson, a slow waltz in deference to the extreme state of pregnancy the former found herself in, the two ushered in the new year amongst friends and family. A Kiss to their cheeks at the stroke of midnight, as all throughout the castle glasses were raised in toast to a year filled with joy, and prosperity.

But the night before the New Year would not be spent in one another arms… but before the public. He would dance the Gilliard, amongst other quick dances with other ladies at the gathering, but the slow waltz would be reserved for her… Slate grey eyes would gaze upon her lovingly while the dance position would display propriety.

As if fate’s answer to their toast.. It would be a spilling of maternal waters upon the dance floor to the sounds of a lute and harp that ushered in not only the new year, but the labor of the MacGregor.

Fate, a fickle player in life. As it would be the maternal waters would spill about his feet as she crumpled in his arms in pain… Lifting her up, the adrenalin flow spiking inner strength, he carried her effortlessly up the stairs to her quarters, as the servants and doctor lead the way.

He was not allowed in the room, but he remained just outside the door, pacing continuously, and nervously, in the corridor. Servants would enter and exit without regard to him… Minutes turned into hours of labor… until he heard the distinct cries of a newborn babe. And he smiled as if he was a new father.

The morning would find a new member in the MacGregor Household, a daughter, held within the loving arms of mother, as the priest blessed the child with the love of the Lord, and the mother with the same, visitors were allowed inside... The most anxious of all... The five-year-old Robin who had paced and stayed the whole time outside the door of his mother’s Labor room along with Iain, and the Lady Ivella.

It would be a long night spent with the man he knew as Lord Robertson, not as his father. Robin was an old soul, seeming much older than his five years, when called upon to behave like a child and play with others he could do so; but he was more often found in reflection, reading or surmising things about him. He was the best and brightest of Chloe and Iain.

His partner throughout the night was Robin… the son that he and Chloe shared… and though it pained him greatly, he would not reveal his true relationship shared with the boy. That would be a task for his mother.

Iain inquired on topics about the lad’s young life so far… and he learned much about Mark that he did not know before, and the relationship the lad and his best friend had. It had been an informative evening, despite their worries about childbirth. Iain actually found out how “old” the lad truly was.

“Lord Robertson…” he questioned as Iain sat awaiting the news that happened behind the doors of the bedroom, long agonizing screams of birth made all who waited cringe... But it was natural and to be expected.

Natural reaction to the screams of childbirth was to focus on the door that barred them…but the lad’s attention-getting words took his focus away from the door to the lad. “Yes Master Robin?”

“My mother tells me that we are all to be family in the spring... by Easter… that you and she will be married, and that your sons will be my brothers and Emily my sister…” the young boy stood before Iain with eyes the color of slate, boring into him as if he could see his soul…

It was as if he was looking into his own eyes as he focused upon the boy. “Aye lad… we are…”

“Since she has no father to stand for her.. And my father is dead… as Heir to the MacGregor seat… I would ask of you... Why you wish to marry my mother, and take her children as your own. Do you not have enough children already ?” there was much behind the boys eyes, and a mettle to his soul, bravery and a way about him, that all could see one day.. He would be a great man.

Iain would smile… “Well M’Lord, as heir to the great Clan MacGregor… I shall offer you the answer graciously.” Iain smiled again. “Since your mother and I have been friends since childhood, we promised ourselves to one another when we were not much older than you… but our father’s sought other plans… Life is not always easy, difficult at best… and now, here in the middle of life, we find ourselves capable, and able, to make our own decisions. And when yer Mother is out of mourning for your Father, I plan to marry her. The number of children we have is irrelevant, as we love all of them equally.” He smiled again, his large hand going to the boy’s shoulder. Mourning his father? Oh how that drove a stake thru his heart. What he would not give for the opportunity to hold Robin in his arms and have the lad call HIM, Father. Still, he offered the boy a smile.

As if saved by fate, the door opened, and then pair of males were allowed in the room. Robin running quickly to his mother’s bedside, looking at the crinkle-faced babe in her arms. “Mama… are you alright? I heard you screaming in pain, but Lord Robertson said it was natural… and you would strong and would be alright.” He glanced back at Iain, who offered a reassuring smile and nod.

Iain stood behind Robin, his hands upon the boy’s shoulders. “You look spry M’Lady… and the babe is beautiful… The doctor says both you and the babe are healthy.” He smiled, his slate grey sparkled. One hand left the boy’s shoulder to pull back the blanket and when the babe’s face was revealed, Iain’s face went emotionless… followed by a forced smile. “Absolutely beautiful…”

Robin stretched his neck and looked upon the babe. “She is wrinkly Mama… shall I get the maid to warm an iron…” and his hand found the babe’s shoulder. “Oh lookie Mama, a diamond… I like it.” And he looked to Lord Robertson, then his Mama.

Iain wracked his mind on the idea of a female Carver, or Mark. No way did the babe’s face now resemble anyone, but Robin pointed out the small diamond-shaped discoloration on her shoulder; one that would identify her as someone’s elses beside Carver MacDonald’s. A similar mark was predominant in Mark’s immediate family. His mother had one, and so did Mark. This would stab at Iain’s heart once more reassuring him that Mark had sired a babe with his beloved Chloe.

He had promised Lady Shyvonne, that he would mend ways with her husband; his beloved friend of many many years, and he would try to validate the promise. He would inhale deeply and exhale with a sigh with a forced smile. “Robin, let us leave yer mother alone for a while. She needs her rest. This is a difficult time for her.” …patting the boy’s shoulders.

Reluctantly, Robin nodded and leaned in kissing the babe’s head, then his Mother. “Rest well Mama… you too baby.” Then he turned and headed out with the maid-servant.

Iain leaned down and kissed the babe’s head as well… then looked to Chloe and smiled… “I love ya, lass… nay matter what…” he paused as if contemplating something. Then he whispered… “We shall name her Colleen…” and he offered her a smile, a second kiss upon her forehead, and a nod to silently see her later.

Very few would know that the babe was named after Lady Colleen Collier, wife of Charles, mother of Mark… “Rest well m’beloved…” he would say as he closed the door.

[Lord Iain Robertson]

The Day after Colleen’s Birth

Chloe lay in bed nursing the newborn daughter snuggled to her breast, beside her in the canopy bed adorned with thick velvet curtains of cream and light blue with damask lining of a darker blue were Emily and Duncan. Her voice was soothing as she told the two youngest of the Robertson Clan a story of knights, fairy princesses, and dragons. Occascionally both Emily and Duncan would look up at the tiny baby who now slept still at her mother’s breast, they were equally curious and excited about the new baby, and it seemed as if both Robertson Children were infatuated with Chloe's love and caring for them… and it showed by both the rapt attention to her story she was telling them, and the looks of love upon their little faces as well as they snuggled one on either side of her. The fire crackled in the hearth, keeping the room warm, even though the north wind raged outside, battering the old castle with it's wintry blast. "And the Dragon was conquered... and flew away never to darken the Realm of Princess Daffodil's realm again..." she leaned over pressing a kiss to Emi's nose... "And Sir Oakly remained her guard and head of her Army... to see all in the land was Just and Right forever." now her fingers tickled Duncan’s tummy... as all throughout the tale she had spoken of Daffodil and Oakly as Emi and Duncan...

Iain was a bit bored having Chloe worn out from birthing, and with the wind as blustery and cold as it was, he had no desire to be out in it hunting… Inquirying about his children, he was told the boys were grooming their equines. Whipping a cloak over his shoulders, he made his way to the stables finding the older boys doing their chores as he had instructed. “I shall give 4 copper gryphons to the lads who cares for my horse. Feed, oats, and brushed.” The lads quickly raised their hands and Iain laughed. “Aye, one each, but no more… that would be highway robbery.” And he chuckled as he turned to return once more to the main house.

Hanging his cloak upon the wooden peg, he dusted the snow from his boots and made his way upstairs to see about his beloved fiancé. From the hallway, he saw the door ajar and peered within to find Emi and Duncan enthralled in one of Chloe’s stories and nursing the newborn. Leaning against the doorsill, he smiled and listened. What a sight!! If only his mother had not died in childbirth… he was sure he would have had such luxuries. At least his children would…

The elder Robertson boys, including Robin, were all out at the Stables caring for their ponies... but Duncan and Emi had elected to scamper away back to Chloe, and at two years of age for Emi, and three and a half for Duncan, it was foreseeable that the stable had lost it's shine upside to stories tucked in a nice warm bed with Chloe and the Baby. "More stories…" Emi giggled as she watched Chloe tickle Duncan.. "Me, me…" she pleaded wanting in on the tickeling, and Chloe reached over and gave her a dose of tickeling as well. Shifting the sleeping Colleen into her other arm as she did. The group on the bed, was all giggles and smiles, as Chloe felt someone watching then looked up to see Iain lounging on the doorframe watching them.

"Lord Robertson... have you come to claim your lost children... perhaps as dragon food?" she grinned at him and made a face at the two giggling children... poking Duncan in the belly gently and playfully... "I hear they are most tasty and tender." to that both children bounded out of the bed toward him...

“Aye lass … horse flesh nay savors the dragon any longer… Children would most please his tastes these days…” he chuckled as the pair bounded to him.

"Papa Papa.. come see the new baby…" Emi pulled at his hand toward the bed.. "She's sooo tiny like a dolly…" then Duncan latched onto his leg, perhaps fighting the dragon in his efforts... "She's stinky her nappies... pheewwww." he held his nose and made a face...

His hands went to his children as they assaulted him... and he laughed at their words… “Aye lassie, she is a doll… I think she shall become as pretty as you… if only a tadbit less…” and he winked at Emi… only to look at Duncan and laugh… “Babes do that laddie… for they cannot do for themselves like a grown lad as yerself… sooo, for now, we must all do our part to help…”

Chloe laughed at the duo, affectionaly deemed the trouble twins, then gifted Iain with a soft smile... "I've missed you…" a delicate hand patted the cover beside her in offering of a place to settle and view the newborn in her arms that was still sleeping soundly no matter the giggling and chatter of Emi and Duncan. The baby was gently removed from her breast, and shifted again as she pulled closed her nightgown, trying to tie the drawstring with one hand with annoyance. Meanwhile, Emi and Duncan settled on a sheepskin rug before the fire, playing with a collection of toy soldiers that Duncan had received for Christmas and now shared with his sister. Laying on tummy and kneeling above the regiments, they set up the mock battle of Sir Oakly and Princess Daffodil, against the Dragon Warriors... and commenced their battle oblivious to the conversations happening between the adults…

Long strides made short work of closing with the bed and he sat upon the side and leaned down to view the babe. “She is a doll, aye?” and he glanced to Chloe… “I have missed you so much… and you do so well with the children… Thank you…”

"They are wonderful children... like their father…" she winked at him as he settled near her on the bed. Her Lady’ maid discreetly closed the doors of the bedroom, and settled herself near the door in the sitting room of the Lady’s suite, to guard it against intrusions. Already her words would be that the Lady was Resting and not to be disturbed. Patrice was a gem and served Chloe loyally without question.

"I shall be just outside Milady…" she bobbed a curtsy and nodded softly to let Chloe know she would be guarding her privacy.

Iain smiled at Patrice as she curtseyed at his entrance and her closing of the doors, and her eventual departure. Looking back at Chloe, he smiled. “Aye, they are… surprisely considered what they have been through…” his lips quirked… “But now they have you… and so do I…” and his hand captured her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

Was it the holiday season, the birth of Colleen, or the way Chloe acted with all the children? But whatever the reason, Iain’s mind attacked his senses with memories of a youth lost… a mother who he never met, and an abusive father, one who would not acknowledge him as his… A bastard of Struan… as he was called… He wondered if his mother was like Chloe… he prayed so… Slate grey eyes bobbed side to side in thought.

As the children played and the couple was finally alone, as much as one could be with two toddlers and an infant in the room. She leaned back upon the mound of pillows, still tired and slighlty weak from the day-before’s labor, but gloriously happy and content surrounded by Iain and their children.. "Would you like to hold her?" she questioned him soflty, watching his face for signs of his feelings of the child. They had not had time to discuss her true parentage, as Chloe had needed rest and there had been a constant parade of kin and friends in residence for the Holidays, into the bedchamber to welcome the newest member of the MacGregor Clan. There was a hesitancy in her voice, as if she expected him to decline.

Snapped back to reality, he was suddenly placed in Alexander’s shoes… Would he accept the babe… or declare it a bastard of Struan…? Those same slate grey eyes looked to her in a sort bewilderment. “Lass ! Am I not her Father? Of course, I want to hold her. You do not have sole ownership of the lassie…” he shakes his head as if teasingly admonishing Chloe… “Women and their babes!!” and he made a teasing sound like ‘Sheesh..’

With a twist, he positioned his hands to accept the newborn… and with gentle care, he cradled the babe in his arms. Once more, he silently vowed to the babe that she would never be treated as he had been, regardless of parentage. Lord Alexander had, in an odd way, instilled something deep withn Iain… Many had said Iain would grow up to be nothing… worthless… But Iain had fought… and fought hard to gain what he had… and that included the desire of a loving family. Meanwhile, a genteel finger traced the baby’s face, across the forehead, and around the eyes to the nose.

For long moments, she was quiet watching him from mossy green eyes that serched for the truth in the depths of his… “I suppose you have come to the same conclusion I have... This is not Carver’s daughter... But Mark’s…” she seemed to flinch internally at the confession… “I can tell by her eyes… as well as her birthmark…” she spoke quietly peering down at the sleeping baby, then lifted her eyes to him… “I suppose now that you see the evidence before you it is more concrete…” there was a hint of saddness to her voice as she spoke, perhaps shame or something deeper… “I cannot say that I wish it otherwise, even if she was Carver’s, I would love her as I do, but I would worry the madness he suffered from would pass to her, So it is good for her that Mark is her father. But it complicates matters... tenfold… Carver is dead...” the obvious left unsaid.. Mark was alive, and married to Shyvonne, and Iain’s blood-brother… as well to say it was complicated, was an understatement. It was easy to pledge your love and heart to an ideal of a child unborn... But would he still feel the same when every time he looked at the tiny girl, or called her by name, he would see Chloe and Mark in his minds eyes, entwined in passion…?

Iain’s attention would change from the babe to Chloe as she spoke, but his eyes never left the babe. “It is confirmed, I suppose… I am nay blind...” he glanced away. “You are the mother… Carver is dead… and I have forgiven Mark… Lady Shyvonne wrote me several times, asking to mend our affairs… and I accepted Mark’s apology… but Shyvonne knows not that the babe is Mark’s… I am sure that the knowledge would destroy her and Mark, so I think…” he paused and gave a wicked smirk… “...if everyone believes Colleen is mine… then I am happy with that…”

Mossy green hues that glistened with unshed tears as he reinterated his love and affintiy, his acceptance of Colleen as a child of his heart, turned up to him with the mention of his forgiveness of Mark, and Shyvonne's many letters. There was slight surprise on both counts for she had not known of Shyvonnes calligraphyed entreaties on Mark’s behalf, and doubted much that Mark would appreciated them going to Iain without his knowledge… this thought mulled about in her brain as he relayed his thoughts on if the truth were brought to light and how it would affect Shy and Mark. "Colleen is yours in everyway that counts… a last name is nothing if we are a family untitled and bound with love... they shall all be ours... each and every last one, and those to come." a sweet hand cradled his face softly as she nuzzled to the side of his shoulder. peering down at the miracle of a daughter he held in his hands. She was tiny.. much more so than a regular baby, only weighing some 4 pounds at birth.. yet she seemed healthy and hardy enough so far, and nursed well, and was strong of lung when she cried... but it was the stunning blue hues of her eyes, that penetrating gaze that made Chloe wonder... just what old soul lay inside her baby daughter... it was as if already she saw through them all.

He looks to Chloe… “I would be lying to say it does not hurt to know the truth… but life is so unfair… and all too short…” he looks to the babe and smiles; then looks to Chloe… “I claim all responsibility for your and Mark’s actions in this instance. I am the one who sent him to watch over you… It should have been me… I should have either gave up Dun Darroch to Alexander, or killed the bastard.” Then he shrugs… his words soft because of the children… but forceful due to the subject matter.

The babe started to move a bit, and his hand patted her bottom, rocking her back to sleep. Bobbing back and forth upon the bed, Iain looked to Chloe… “Mixed clans… mixed names… some of our children called MacGregor, some Robertson… who ever thought people required last names…” he growled a bit… slightly frustrated… but the babe’s movements again alleviated his frustration…

There was inner turmoil in Iain, that was no doubt… but he was a fighter… and now he was fighting to reform his family… to resurrect a great family from the ashes of many…

"No one will require a last name in our home, it is only for the world outside... Robin, Alex, Duncan Thad, and Auggie will be raised as brothers and equals, as will Colleen and Emily.. we will love them all as our children..regardless of their parentage they are ours now…" she leaned up and kissed him sweetly sealing her promise to love them as her own... their own… a mischievious smirk played over her lips, as she offered a silly remedy to the problem at hand... "Perhaps when we get married we shall both and the children as well... all take new names... something no one else owns... something completely made up..." she made a comical thinking face, as if coming up with the perfect name for them all.. "MacGrobertson" she grinned and chuckled watching his face for a smile, and trying to ease the flustration from his frowning face, ease the wrinkled from his brow, and the worry from his eyes. "I shall call for parchment and write a request to the Queen for an dispoisition to rename us all... and combine the clans!" she nodded her head in the affirmitive, but already a fit of giggles at the idea claimed her..

Iain laughed at the suggestion, but his demeanor changed when she mentioned the new name. Careful of the babe, he began to tickle her… “MacGrobertson??... Why does yers have to be first…” and he tickled her more. “Women!!” and he laughed as she squirmed and shifted, both careful of the babe-in-arms. "MacGrobertson sounds like a stomach ailment…” and he laughed back upon the pillows beside her laughing.

Looking at her side glance… “Yu are serious, Aye?”

[Lord Iain Robertson]

Dublain and Iain Go on the Hunt

The carriages and carts rocked and rolled over the paths down, down from Turas Lan through the forests roads and out again to be in the clear. God seemed to grace them with good weather after the Christmas holiday so that it would not be hard in the days going down to Sleat province. When they stopped in Kyleakin to refresh man, woman, child, and beast, he didn't stay inside the inn to be kept. Instead he visited the gravesites of the fallen until he walked further back to ancient times. In this venture, he would visit with his past to have a last reckoning with it so that truly it would all matter precious little.

There were lairds in cities and villages alike. Still, it was disputed, that the true lords were those who held influence over the entire region so it stood to reason that MacGregor having gone further now than Dunsgateich Castle did that. He went over to Castle Moill with gifts for Falin Haakon in rememberance. The two men drank out of a mead horn together at the site of the end of Carver, and did not see this place was what solidified the cause of treason, but a beginning built on the bones of a wicked one's end. Lindall wasn't privy to the thoughts he formed while watching the coastline the further on all went. Under the snow lay fertile soil waiting for Spring to coax new life out of it. He was still Sleat's native son.

In time, all of the sleeping farms gave way to sights of cattle eating hay. Beyond them, pottery markers by the kiln. Further still at least they came to Armadale, to Dunsgateich. It was an old, venerable place there as long as Armadail Castle had been, only now it was not to the seat of his father's fathers to be greeted, but by the MacGregor, who in all fairness now held vast reach beyond Armadale; but had now been given leave to oversee the province itself. Sleat was no more a sleeping thing, nor waking as it had under his forefathers hands, but alive because of the people they had long worked beside worked high above.

All of the things would be unloaded, all would be settled, but still Dublain spent more time to himself in his first days there. He was pleased to see his wife present her baby boy, his boy. Still it was to know in Sleat that his likeness favored a man put to a pyre. On Raasay, little facts of sharp point were glib bits of inappropriate humor ingested joyfully with a tankard of ale. What face flattered a figure formed no concern for the little lord Gregor was a warm fire to which all kept burning and so enjoyed.

In Sleat, the points returned to pick at him, but he let no one know that. Instead, he resolved with himself to find his own peace. As family reunited with one another, he took for himself a horse from the stable. One of his men cried afoul of the idea given his condition, but he felt fine. In fact, he thrust the stick at him which made him quiet, and turned out toward the road in to Armadale.

Ah yes, Sleat… An odd place for a Robertson… History would keep them far to the north and away from the southern peninsula… but it would be love… or the passion of it that would send the Robertson laird south… to strike at a cruel husband… only to find himself embrawled in something a bit more elaborate as a clan war. And even more unusual would be to have the Robertson jailed along side MacGregor and MacDonald, all charged with treason against a crown.

And it was in this manner that Iain Robertson met Dublain MacDonald… and in the months to follow, they had become friends of sort… and even family… the MacDonald had taken a MacGregor in marriage, and joined the bloodlines in a son… and a sept of the Robertson had married a MacGregor as well… and soon, Iain himself would marry Chloestrain…

The Clan Wars had faded the thick dividing lines of clans in many ways, but in ways none would have EVER expected. Here was a Robertson, farther south than any Robertson has expected… and Iain enjoyed the evenings with Chloestrain… but the days, she remained busy as clan chieftain… a line he would not cross. The holidays had come and gone, yet he stayed on to be close to his beloved… Dun Darroch would not be ready until spring, and as such he would use as an excuse to visit longer.

As it was that morning, he exited the manor just in time to see Dublain poke his cane at the man and ride off… Chuckling at the incident, he made his way to the stables to groom his horse to wile away the hours.

Men wandered to and fro, hurrying and scurrying about, some loading horses with bows and arrows, some with spears. Iain, curious, began to investigate… and by mid-morning, had heard stories of mutilated stock, many fearing wolves had wandered from the forests and closer to the settlements due to the heavy snows this year, looking for food… easy prey.

Later, Iain would attach his sword to the saddle, and lay his crossbow over the saddle. Looking around, he quickly kissed his beloved Chloe on the forehead before stepping into the stirrup and onto the saddle. “I shall be careful love… its just a hunting trip…” he winked at Chloe reassuring her words of being cautious. And with that, he spurred the stead into a cantor.

[Lord Iain Robertson]

Truth Revealed

Chloestrain: The New Year had dawned frozen and crisp, in Sleat, the ground crunched underfeet, and new snow lay upon the ground in drifts some two feet high. Dunsgate was festooned in evergreen wreaths on each window, and door, inside was much the same, issuing in the Christmas holidays and the New Year in festive fashion. Inside, the Castle was brimming to full with Family and friends, Thaddeus and Auggie Roberston, Theadore’s left-behind children, had been brought along with Alexander and Duncan, Iain's boys, on Christmas Eve to celebrate the year and begin their new life with Chloe and Iain as their family. Emily and Robin had come with Chloe and Ivella after the trial to Dunsgate while Iain had went in search of his missing boys.

Now the Household was loud and rambunctious with the sound of children playing, even young Rosie, the cook from Dun Darroch's kitchen’s daughter, played with the group in the grand hall, where the massive Christmas tree still stood decorated. A cheerful fire blazed in the hearth, and the long banquet table was filled with foods and drinks for all… Ivella settled in a rocking chair near the hearth, Emily, the two-year-old daughter of Iain upon her lap as she told her a story of long ago. Lindall sat close by, her own baby in her arms, nursing as she rocked; Iain and Dublain were off on a hunt or some such. The MacSween Children, two of which could possibly be the children of Carver MacDonald, the butcher, the villian who had started the whole war of Sleat, were always near to Lindall. Caitlyn, the two year old, listening to Ivella's story as well; Connor playing with the other boys; and Lily, the dark haired twelve year old, that stole glances toward the older Robertson boy, who teased her and yanked her braids, was seated quietly near Lindall, an hoop of needle point in her lap, yet not stitch made in some time. So where was Chloe then, the Lady of the House, the Chieftan of the Clan... she was upstairs resting after giving birth on New Year’s Eve, to her new baby daughter... Colleen Ivella MacGregor.

Shyvonne: The New Year had indeed risen frozen and crisp and even with the sun high in the sky, it would not melt away winter, for it firmly held its grasp across the land. Winter always smelled like fresh mint to Shyvonne, just the crisp cold reminded her of sucking in a deep breath of freshly made mint tea. The curtains of the carriage were pulled back and though she was frozen down to the bone, she sat on the edge of her seat looking out the window at her childhood home as it crawled closer and closer. The carriage as always was flanked by several guards, one in the front to lead, three on either side of the carriage and two leading the rear. It was a percussion Shyvonne was urge to put behind but a condition she agreed upon with her husband having left him behind at Oisles to continue the preparations for the children's return to the Academy. She had regretfully declined joining her family for the new year as she had done every year since her birth but with the hope that they would understand that though she would run whenever troubles plagued them, the Academy had to come first otherwise. She did not think twice about Mark's unwillingness to come, she had given him the option to stay or come, and had not guilted him otherwise.

Men and Women needed secrets, even married. "Dunsgate Approaching!" The leader called and Shyvonne rolled her eyes. Duh. Sliding nearly off her seat, the door was slung open even before the carriage had stopped and then heaved backwards in the process of coming to a rest. Waving off the assistance, she hopped from the interior and left the guards and footman to see the carriage off; she could walk these lands with her eyes closed and so it was with easy that she slipped inside. The footman’s mouth opened to announce her and Shyvonne hand slammed over the man’s mouth laughing as he nearly doubled over with the weight of the woman at his backside. "I hardly think I need announcing Rogan." She gave the old man’s cheek a kiss as her hand left his mouth and she went to unclasping the bright red cloak from her shoulders. Had the story been invented yet, she would be the spitting image of Red Riding Hood with the brightness of her cloak and Snow White with her pale skin. "A merrier Christmas then we have had in past with such a wondrous and promising new year upon us!" She announced cheerfully to her family.*

Chloestrain: Ivella stood, setting aside little Emily, "Shyvonne... My Sweetheart, we have missed you so... Come here, come here.. hug your old mother.. " her eyes watered , the same green hues that Shyvonne sported yet decades older... "Ohhh it does my old heart good to see you.. and where is Mark, is he with you?" she looked to the door expecting to see the Collier man behind her beloved youngest Daughter…

"Shyvonne.. " Lindally squealed as she rose moving to where Ivella had enveloped the younger of the three in her matronly bosom.. "I'm so glad you are here, you get to meet your new Nephew and Niece. not to mention all the shinning faces that will soon be going to your School." she babbled on the picture of health and happiness, in her forest green gown edged in ermin fur... her usually chignon'd bun missing instead her hair fell straight as a pin down her back, and within her arms lay the bundel of joy known to all as Gregor MacDonald. (d)

Shyvonne: "Hello Mother" Shyvonne cooed as she crossed the floor to be enveloped within those loving arms. Her own eyes turned to the door as if expecting her husband to appear even though she knew he was at Oisles. "No, Mark did not come with me this time. He opted to stay at the Academy, there is still so much to do with the children returning soon. I, myself, cannot stay but a day or two." She kissed the wrinkled cheek of her mother before moving to hug her sister. "Linny!" Shyvonne squealed in return before laughing as she hugged her sister gently and then rubbed a finger against her newest nephew cheek. "Ohhh look at him, he looks just like his papa." She cooed and then caught herself giving Lindall an apologetic smile. "He is beautiful but what niece do you speak of?" She cast her eyes through the children. She knew them well and to who's parentage each went but was she missing something? "An’ where is your dear husband Linny and the charming Lord Robertson?" Shyvonne swung her gaze to her mother, she had expected Iain to be here disgracing her brother’s memory so quickly, though she didn't hold it against Iain, oh no that was reserved for someone else.*

Chloestrain: "Aunt Shyvonne, Aunt Shyvonne !!!" Robin flew at her skirts tackling her legs... "I've missed you so much..!" the five year old’s arms squeezed her knees.. "Did you see baby Gregor... and Momma had me a new sister just a few nights ago... she's so tiny and little.. " he rambled then turned a serious look upon his auntie… "Duncan, Alex, Thad, and Auggie and Me are all ready to start the Academy, we are going to be brothers all us…" the five year old smiled. He had went from an only child to one of seven in the past few weeks; Of course, it wouldn't be official until his mum married Lord Iain, but that was just a formality.

"Yes yes Robin... I'm sure your Aunt Shyvonne will be overrun with all the new pupils this year at the Academy… run along.. go play... and let us women talk." she shooed her grandson off. "See if cook will bring us some tea Robin please you lil man." she sent him on an errand, the little boy gaining self importance by being set upon such a important task. She turned her gaze back to Shyvonne then.. "Chloe... gave birth on New Years Eve, to a daughter... you have two new little people added to your family tree "

"I swear Shy, I'm partial to Gregor here, the cherbuic child was dark haired like Jonus and already seemed to have a tan, Jonus always having an olive complexion. But little Colly.. she is precious as and angel... and so tiny... I suppose all that time in the cells of Dun Darroch did not help, but she seems healthy,and Chloe birthed well… They should be down for lunch in a bit." Lindall spoke, still high on love and life, and the visions of little babies swaddled and sweet. (d)

Shyvonne: Shyvonne gasped as Robin latched onto her skirts and she squealed in delight as she took him into her arms despite his weight, five years old or not, she heaved him up into her arms and did a twirl on the floor. "Robin Robin! I have missed you too. Give your best Aunt a kiss" Even as she said this, she winked at Lindall knowing her sister would know she didn't mean it and she was sure Robin would not take it ill. "Oh listen to you, big brother to so many, you are perhaps the luckiest little boy in the world. I have presents for all of you in the foyer but this...is special" From her neck, she unhooked a locket and put it around Robin’s neck. The exterior had the MacGregor seal, inside was a picture of their crest on one side and a picture of Searc on the other. "Your daddy gave this to me when I was your age but it had your grandmama and grandpa in it, I took the liberty of putting your daddy in it. Keep him close to your heart Robin and know he loved you" She kissed her nephew cheek again as she set him down on his feet.

She had nothing against Iain who was Robin true father but Shyvonne was sure Searc had loved Robin for if not, he would not have claimed him as his child. She hummed in a laugh as the children ran off at the sound of presents and Robin to do his duty before turning to her mother again. "I am sure our family tree will ever grow Mother dearest" She offered her a smile as her arm hooked around Lindall waist and teased at Gregor chubby cheek again. "Oh I am partial to this little one all ready, all ready breaking hearts" She let out a humming laugh again and offered a bright smile to the chubby cheeked baby as she cooed down at him "Hello, Hey you." She leant a kiss to Lindall cheek before releasing her and moving to take a seat. Oh but carriages killed her backside.*

Chloestrain: "I suspect that perhaps in the next year we will be welcoming a little Collier to our ranks " Lindall grinned teasing her sister and poking at her flat belly, as they both crooned over young Gregor…

"Iain, Dublain, and a few other of the men went out to see if they could hunt down the wolves that killed some sheep yesterday eve. There are more missing, it seems as if they just disappeared without a trace, but there were a few found gnawed upon and killed… They suspect it to be a pack.. and hope to rid us of them quickly." Ivella had released her youngest child and now returned to her rocking chair, where Emily and Caitlyn waited for her to resume their story, their eyes lifting to the new addition to the great halls cacophony "I think you know already Young Miss Emy Robertson... and this be Caitlyn and Lily MacSween, Lindall and Dublain have fostered them for now, and Lily and Conner there will be attending your academy soon." she waved a hand offering Lindall back her seat opposite her as a servant pulled up another chair for Shy at the hearth.

She had rested most of the morning and now with the tiny bundle in her arms, she made her way down the stairs into the great room just as the three MacGregor women settled themselves at the hearthside. "Good Afternoon Ladies… ahhhh Shyvonne welcome to Dunsgate, we have missed you." there was no malice or discontent in her voice, indeed she seemed preoccupied with her new daughter in her arms... "There are presents for you still under the tree." she chimed, leaning down to place a welcoming kiss on her sister in laws cheeks. "Is Mark with you, I'm sure Iain will be happy to see him." she turned her gaze about the room in search of Mark, but inside her belly trembled at the thought of Mark being there... Would he know just by looking at the infant that he was the father...? (d)

Shyvonne: "I quite doubt it Linny dearest, I am not ready for children of my own yet. I am quite content teaching others." Shyvonne retorted knowing her sister was teasing only as she swayed away from Lindall poking finger with a squeal.

Her nose wrinkling at the talk of wolves and half-eaten carcases was not appealing in the least. Her attention turned to the children as she took her seat, she would not and could not offer comments on half-eaten sheep, partially because she knew why they had been found thus. "A pleasure to meet you ladies, my what young ladies you are" She chimed with a smile before her attention turned as Chloe made her appearance.

Welcome to Dunsgate? As if it had not been her home the whole of her life? A slender brow cokeed upward then dipped as she leaned into the kiss and offered her own into the air beside Chloe cheek. "Iain, happy to see Mark?" Shyvonne did not mask her surprise at this though she had been in correspondence with Iain, for some reason, she kept this hidden. She did not know why. "I quite doubt that, but no, Mark did not wish to come, that is, he opted to stay at the Academy and see that preparations for the new school years beginning are finished." Her mind raced at Dublain out searching for wolves and hoping beyond hope he found some rather then the tracks of hooves and men as explanation for the missing beasts. "So I take it Iain is here and has taken up permanent residence?" Shyvonne’s eyes swung to her mother and then her sister.*

Chloestrain: "Yes with a new year comes forgiveness... and I would hope that this year can mend the rifts between them, after all they were like brothers and a very large part of each others lives.. and we are soon to all be family." she spoke soflty, as she stroked the baby’s cheek softly. She moved to take up a seat on a pillow beside Emily and Caitlyn on the hearth, where both little girls began to coo and make over the tiny newborn...

"Iain has not taken up residence in Dunsgate, he is visiting for the holidays, and bringing the boys here to begin their schooling with you at the academy, although we are going to be married in the spring... and we will spend time both, in Dunsgate, and Dun Darroch." her eyes met Shyvonne's, as it was obvious that Shy didn't take to the idea of Iain being in Dunsgate. (d)

Shyvonne: "Some things can never be forgiven, but I quite agree in the hopes that they will forgive one another on whatever matter plagues them." She fixed her skirts about her, leaning sideways in the chair to stick closer to the fire, the ice accumulated on her bones just now beginning to thaw out.

For several minutes after Chloe had spoken, Shyvonne was silent as if it had not sunk in and then her head turned, rather slowly littling the shock as it settled in but the look in her moss green eyes was dangerous and though it had not been seen in a while by any of them, but others upon the road of mad riders baring down, it was now leveled on Chloe. "You will be WHAT?!" She hissed her hands tightening on the arm rests of her chair. Married in the spring?

She did not begrudge them the marriage but that it was so soon in coming and so close to Searc’s death, did Chloe have no respect? Her anger at Chloe was already present. The Lady had no respect, not even making mention of the letter she provided the Baliff demanding the taxes be paid on the Academy or forfeiting it, HER Academy, not Chloe's, this coupled with the news sent her rage into a fury.

Her lips thinned in anger as she rose slowly from her chair. "Excuse me Mother, Linny...I have somewhere I would like to visit. Though it will pain you mother, since we were never given the chance to come home for Searc funeral, I'd like to visit his grave." Her head bobbed at her mother and sister and then the girls on the pillows. "Young Ladies" and swiftly out of the hall she went.*

Chloestrain: Chloe's face flamed as Shy begin her angry rant... both sets of green eyes locking as Shy abruptly stood up and announced that she wished to see her brother's grave then stomped out like a spoiled child..

"Mother Ivella will you Please watch Colleen.. for a bit…" Chloe stood handing over the tiny bundle to the aged grandmother, giving Lindall a staying look as she stood to go after her sister… "This is something that Shyvonne and I have to attend... see to the children and lunch... I shall be back shortly." with that she followed Shy, stopping only to grasp a fur lined cloak, and gloves before disappearing out the doors...

Following down the path that wound to the place where Searc s remains had been burned, his bones collected and buried upon the hillside overlooking snow laden hills and the small village outside the castle... It was really the last thing she wanted to do today, still weakened from childbirth and in the chill of winter, chasing down Shyvonne, to settle the matter between them so that the family could begin to heal it's wounds.

She stood a bit away from where the granite marker , marked the resting place of Searc's bones... while Shyvonne visited... just beyond the iron gates of the small cemetery that housed MacGregors since they had immigrated to Sleat. Hands worked up her arms trying to warm herself as she waited, not wanting to disturb the girl... but deep down she thought perhaps Shyvonne was prolonging it just for spite. (d)

Shyvonne: A spoiled child she would always be in many eyes but really she was an impassioned young woman. Really her and Chloe had such a trait in common.

In her haste and anger, she had forgotten her cloak and gloves 'stomping' out into the snow and cold. She knew the cemetery well, her father’s own bones resting with those that had come before him, now housed those of her brother’s, who in her opinion, had been taken all too quickly. In front of his marker, she fell to her knees and let her hands dig into the snow.

Shyvonne had known in the start, in the deepest part of her heart that Searc and Chloe had never been a good match. It had soured her belly from the beginning and filled her with dread of this moment, of kneeling in front of his grave then standing before him. Silently her lips moved letting out puffs of white smoke against the cold, her eyes closed to her surroundings having a private moment with her brother. Silently, she was conversing with the one person who could not give up her secret, asking for his blessing and approval where she never would have asked for it before. She stayed like this for several moments, till she could not feel fingers anymore and when she pulled them from the snow, they were blue for the want of warmth. Her body was fairly shivering now but whether it was from cold or still abiding rage was uncertain as she dusted the snow from her dress though it was wet at her knees from the wetness of it.

When she turned and saw Chloe, her cheekbones thinned as her jaw locked. Dark tresses were sent waving in the wind as she shook her head. "Couldn't even give me a moment’s peace with my brother?" *

Chloestrain: "You'll freeze without these." her hand outstretched holding Shy's cloak and gloves... not bothering to answer to the question of peace; her gaze was not hateful or spiteful and she shivered as much as Shy did.. the wind whipping her cloak open before she pulled it back closed. "We aren't exactly dressed for this…" She urged her to take the cloak from her, only a stubborn ninny would refuse at this temperature. "Shyvonne, I think you and I need to speak… it's obvious that you think you have reason to be upset, and I want nothing more than to see this family happy and whole once again." (d)

Shyvonne: She took the items, pulling on her gloves first so that her hands might warm as she swung the cloak over her shoulders her fingers to frozen to even clasp it closed or even pull her hood upward.

"Then you should not have followed me." She retorted and though angry, her words were not biting, though the way they rattled with how cold she was could have been comical.

Now with gloves on her hands, she gripped the iron gate enclosing the cemetery. "I have...every reason to be upset. My brother lies not in the ground but a scant months and you talk of remarriage, oh I have no doubt of your affections for Lord Robertson but could you not respect my brothers death long enough? You've waited long enough no doubt in my mind praying for the moment of his death and not even affording him the presence of those that DID love him at the hour of his burial when it meant most to show it!"

Her throat ached with tears she would not shed. "Oh I heard that you two reconciled your differences, but you never loved him and you never made it a point to hide that fact. My brother may not have been the best man in the world but he deserved to be loved and never received it." Despite her pretty little speech to her husband, Shyvonne was not abiding her own words of family unity. "An’ now Mark is left without his best friend, oh I do not blame you for it, but here you get two lands, how lucky you, oh ohhhh" She huffed out a puff of white air and shook her head. "An’ all you want is to see this family happy and whole once again when my eyes see disrespect and my husband so grieved by the separation of his best friend, your future husband."*

Chloestrain: “Shy…" her hands pleaded along with her eyes as the girl began her angry rant… "There are things that are beyond you to know... Your brother and I in the end settled our differences and had respect for one another. He entrusted both the Clan and the Family to me as Chieftain, before the King himself, as he lay dying... There was a rebellion going on, and while many would have left him where he fell, I made sure he came home, to be buried her... there was no time to ride two days north, and then travel back here south another four days... his body would have gone rancid... it was summer. " her voice rose in pitch as she defended herself…

"The King himself sent me to bury him... what was I to do... either way, either choice... you would have found me wrong. I know you loved him, and he loved you, and that you need somone to blame... but I did my best to see him laid out honorably…" she flinched when Shy practically accused her of being a gold digger... her own anger rising... now as she took a few steps forward, suddenly the cold did not bite as hard as the words of her sister-in-law...

"You forget yourself and your place... I fought tooth and nail to make sure your brother survived Cartersvalle Abbey when Carver would have seen him drawn and quartered, I spent months tortured and held in captivity and almost died because I protected him, and led an army to protect these lands and clan." her voice shook with conviction...

"Carver’s invasion was not of our doing... and it was Iain who came to our aid, and made sure that we were not overrun.. The King and Queen has decreed that we should mend our families and land. Dublain and Lindall are happy and fasted now to the MacGregors by blood and love, and in the Spring so shall the Robertson and MacGregor be tied… it will be eight months then... 3 quarters of a year since your brother’s death... I think that will suffice for a mourning period." a dark brow raised as the cold persona that shielded the fragile little girl from so much pain in her younger life, reinvested itself in the form of a lifted stubborn chin and the stare of a chieftain...

"It will be, Shyvonne, no matter how many hissy fits you throw… I will not beg nor bargain for your good graces, you are welcome in this family and in Dunsgate, but you are expected to behave yourself as a true daughter of the House of MacGregor and not shame it's halls. Do not forget where the coin comes from to help rebuild Oisles… nor what tuition is to be had with your new students. You are a fine teacher and none better would I wish to educate the children of Dunsgate, but... do not think that you are the only scholar in the land." her gaze leveled at Shyvonne, acutely aware of the girls temper and her penchant for striking out.(d)

Shyvonne: "Secrets, more secrets. Secrets are what lead this family to such heartache and my heart is sick with them!" She bit back as she released the iron bars of the gates. She had not meant to call Chloe a gold digger, that had been a rant she hadn't truly thought out, but at the urging that she forget her place, Shyvonne could have killed Chloe and taken the punishment for the crime with pride.

"I forget my place?" If she could resemble a jungle cat angrily displaying her displeasure she would have with the face she made. "I... am the true daughter of MacGregor, it runs in my veins as deeply as the sea fans outward into the world. You, married into it, you are not a MacGregor. Throw such things as children and money into my face about the academy but it is mine, and it might please you to know, I have funds coming in that well exceed that of your pocket book so do not feel displeasure at closing the purse strings if it pleases you. Send the children elsewhere, but when I am done with Oisles, there will be no finer school in all of Scotland, I bet my life's blood on it. So torture the children with your displeasure of me if you wish, you would sink that low. As far as Dunsgate is concerned, it is MY family home, how dare you presume to throw it out as if you can kick me out my own family home or remark I, could shame its halls any more then you all ready have. MacGregor and Robertson may marry in the spring and you may unite the names, but I... am not a Collier which is no longer associated with Robertson. Much as it pains my husband for it, I would gladly live in Oisles as a Collier with Mark, who is too good of a man and unlike you, keeps no secrets in me." Arms folded definitely over her chest, her stubborn chin jutting outward. "Do not think to threaten me such Chloe for I will take you up on it, and in so, YOU will be the one to break my mother and my sisters heart and divide our families." *

Chloestrain: It was apparent that Shyvonne had forgotten that Chloe was a MacGregor by birth as well, a fourth cousin from the Struan branch... "Sometimes it is best for all concerned that secrets are kept, I assure you honesty is not all it's cracked up to be." it was a dire warning or perhaps a prediction for the girl before her…

"I would never break your mother or sister’s heart, as I love them as if they were my own... Your mother gave me her blessing to marry in the spring… and I hope that you can contain yourself long enough to visit with her some before you go back to your academy... She has missed you so... but do not think to act out like some spoiled brat while you are here, because I assure you I will not tolerate it nor will your mother... "

It was obvious that Chloe had Ivella's backing on this matter… "Your mother finds no fault in my actions now or in the dealings of your brothers death... you should heed her example… and as for being a true MacGregor, I was born one, and married one, and now I am the Chieftan, so I consider myself THRICE the MacGregor you are.. " she turned to make her way back toward the castle, presenting Shyvonne with her back, and ending the argument.. or so she thought. (d)

Shyvonne: "While their are secrets between us, you are not my Chieftain." Shyvonne shook her head, on this she would be detoured.

For a moment it seemed as if Shyvonne were calming down until Chloe asserted her authority and adding salt to the open wound, turned her back and began walking away. "You may have been born a MacGregor then but your children weren't!" She spit back. Shyvonne was too angry in Chloe turning her back to see the hurtfulness of her words. She loved Robin and held nothing against little Colleen but in her ultimate rage, proving she was much like her brother, she said what she did not mean. "You pass your children off as MacGregors and hold your head high and mighty when it is Lindall and I were will bare true ones, they should be the Cheiftain. Lindall should have been given the title, not you! They should pass to her children, not yours!"*

Chloestrain: Shy could have struck Chloe in the back with a knife and caused less pain and anger, she was quick to turn on the girl, a raging lioness protecting her cubs, and in the span of a few seconds she had leapt upon her, pulling at the long dark curls, slapping the face, both of them tumbling to the snow covered ground in a tangle of skirts and cloaks, "You bytch, how dare you bring my children into this, you spoiled bytch..!" she hissed as her gloved palm slapped at Shyvonne, perhaps Shy was shocked at such venom and anger, at the amount of violence…

"Last year this time I was fighting to breathe, to Live, after your Sainted brother raped, sodomized, and tried to kill me." she grasp Shy about the neck squeezing harshly... "He choked me... until I though I was dead... wished I was dead" she shook Shy like a rag doll by the neck, her fingers pressing into the soft white flesh... "I've earned my place, my blood had paid the price for Robin and Colleen’s place..." the look in her eyes was crazy... as if madness touched her... memories assailed her...

"Searc.. formally adopted Robin, he knew he wasn't his son, but it's legal," she ground out thru her teeth.. "He accepted the child in my belly before the King and Queen... better a MacGregor than a Collier…" (d)

Shyvonne: Shyvonne felt the guilt of her words wash over her the moment she said them. Hands went up even as Chloe stilled in her steps. "Oh Chloe...I" She started and then the woman leapt upon her and they were a rolling pile of skirts and cloaks quickly soaking in the fresh snow.

"Get the hell off me!" Shyvonne screamed in return to Chloe rants and raves as the two women rolled and tumbled on the ground giving each other slaps and slams of open and closed palms. "I never said Searc was a saint! I know her was to blame! Get the.."

Shyvonne knee kicked up into Chloe belly as she rolled the woman over taking her position on top as they rolled down the hill. "You self pitying bytch, you act like this was all his fault, you had a hand in it too, you left him weak and dependant on help at the Abby! You're not a saint in this either!"

Tumble and tumble the two women went, as they assaulted each other with words as well as blows of fist and foot until they landed at the bottom of the hill with Chloe on top of her and it was then Shyvonne still. Better a MacGregor then a Collier? It looked as if Chloe had won for a moment as Shyvonne lay still in the snow but Portia words from months ago were ringing in her ears along with Mark assurance nothing had happened between him and Chloe, was Chloe saying...

Suddenly Shyvonne flipped the woman off her and climbed on top taking the dagger from its secret place upon her person, the end was pointed at Chloe throat while Shyvonne panted from rage and from panic. "What the hell do you mean by better MacGregor then Collier?! Tell me the TRUTH damn you!" *

Chloestrain: The knee to her gut had done more damage than Shy could have known, a new mother only days from giving birth, should not be out rolling about on the frigid ground much less upset, and being pummeled in the belly.

Blood seeped down from her womb in a gush of red warmth staining the snow beneath her, as Shyvonne held the dagger to her throat, there was no look of fear, but her face had paled, deathly so, from not only the injury but from the words the secret that had escaped her lips in her rage... "Colleen is Mark’s child.. " she spoke darkly... "…now you see why Iain and Mark are at odds..." tears streamed down her face... "I never meant for you or Mark to know... I thought perhaps she was Carver’s.. but when she was born… I knew… her eyes, there is not doubt." a delicate hand lifted and pushed away the dagger. "Iain is going to father her and Robin well.. there is no need for Mark to claim her... just leave it be.. Shyvonne.. Leave it be " (d)

Shyvonne: In the moment of the fight, Shyvonne had acted without thinking. Thinking, she never would have kneed Chloe in the stomach, but in panic and rage she neither noticed nor cared if blood seeped from every pore of this woman's body. Her hand with the dagger was shaking so that the end threatened to cut Chloe neck already, thankfully Shyvonne pulled back as the woman revealed the truth that Shyvonne had asked for.

In this moment, this span of time, Shyvonne wished she had not asked for the truth and that she did not have the deadly sin of anger that had lead to this. Did Chloe see the guilt on Shyvonne face or understand Shyvonne had never meant her words about either Robin nor Colleen now?

The dagger was slowly retracted as Shyvonne chest heaved letting out long white ribbons of warm breath into the cold air. "Leave it be?" She choked. "Have you not seen Mark with Robin? A boy who is not even his own son, he loves as his own and you wish me to leave it be. What if he see's her? He will know and it will torment him." In this moment, it had not sunken in that Mark had lied to her, so in this moment she defended him. The dagger was sheathed back into place as Shyvonne lifted off the woman.

The truth was sinking in, but slowly and it was beginning to numb her just as the cold winter snow. "You have... undone me." Shyvonne choked out and turned pushing through the snow towards the courtyard, bruises would be quick to show on the ride home and cuts went unnoticed even in their sting.

Her mind was gone, for now, for she left Chloe in the snow and said not a word to servant nor those loved ones inside as she sought out her carriage and home.*

[Lord Iain Robertson]

They had been out all day… and into the night. The night air now chilled the men to the bone… and of the wolves…? it was a mystery. Tracks in the snow gave the men suspicion that the “wolves” were larger than life, and to the illiterate would fuel tales of half-wolf-half man… But no man could multilate the stock like this… Could they?

And the trails that led to nowhere…The group of ten or so men that wandered aimlessly deep into the night following dead-end trail after dead-end trail… Iain included. His frustration mounting with each trail that disappeared into nothingness. The foreman of Dunsgate was finally the one to admit that their search would better serve them in the daylight hours… and so the men all returned to the string of mounts.

Settling into the saddle, Iain shivered and looked around. It was as if he mentally had seen something connected to Chloe. Canting his head, as if listening, then smirking thinking himself insane. Noticing the men had mounted and spurred their steeds toward Dunsgate, Iain shifted the cloak and spurred his own mount, the reins turning the horse gently.

An hour or so of riding, the group re-entered the sanctuary that all called Dunsgateich. Into the livery, each man dismounted and handed the reins to a servant, Iain included. Once more the chill crept up his back and caused him to shiver. Again, it was as if Chloe was in trouble. There, over a small knoll lie the graveyard… and from it emitted sounds of a catfight… cursing, hissing, and vocal accusations at a murmur. But as the tall man neared the graveyard, the louder the sounds got. Hastening his pace to the top of the knoll, he saw, at a distance, two women rolling in the snow… and finally one standing over the other… words were not so pleasant.

By the time Iain got down the knoll, thru the ravine, and to the location of the fight, one woman was gone, and one lay in the snow, now in the fetal position crying. At first, he knew not who they were, but in the darkness, he could tell it was Chloe… Nearing her, he knelt down… “M’Love, what happened? Are yu hurt?” his hand looking over her clothed body for blood or wound. “Chloe, what is wrong?” Then he saw the blood-stained dress... and fear struck him.

Unable to calm her, he could feel her distraught. Picking her up, his strength now doubled from the adrenaline flow, he carried her back to the building, kicking the door open… and past inquirying servants. Up the stairs he strode, his beloved in his arms. No deterance could, or would, prevent him from his mission.

Kicking the door to her quarters, the wooden frame banging against the stone wall and ricocheting back to be nudged aside. He quicly lay her upon the bed, female servants began to fuss over her. Meanwhile, he was undressing… and the servants did not notice… and when they got Chloestrain undressed, Iain nudged them aside, preventing them from putting on her gown. “Aside I say… she needs body heat now!!” and he slide in beside her, pulling her tight to him.

He was not a doctor, but from years experience in extreme cold, he did not take chances with her being frostbit… or suffering from hypothermia… All he knew was to provide warmth, and in a hurry. His actions, once done, sent servants away in embaressment of the man’s nakedness. To hell with proper ettequitte…

When she finally quit crying, and pain subside, she would actually find a loving hand caressing her face, his nude warm body against hers. Beyond, an open door with servants waiting patirently for their mistress to awaken.

Soon the healers would arrive to tend to the Lady MacGregor.

The snow crunched under her feet as she left the scene behind. Chloe crying and bleeding within the snow. It was a testament to how far gone into her mind she was. She never would have left anyone out in the snow, no matter what wrongs they had done her. She had not killed the bailiff although she had the manpower to do so.

Funny that she and Iain did not cross paths as she went for the stables and he for Chloe. Her mind had been set to get the carriage and go home, however it did not turn out to be so. The carriage was left behind, one of the horses to carry it taken instead. This was one of those times she needed wind on her face.

She took off from the stables like a shot, her cloak billowing out behind her as she constantly gave a kick to the horses sides to spurn him faster. She was mindless of where she was going, heading away from the Academy rather than towards it. The truth was slow in sinking in, everything within her wanted to deny of the truths she had been told and it was not that her husband had sired a child in another but that he had lied, quite boldly in her face when confronted with it when he had been in the dungeon. Perhaps he thought himself to die and so had no need to tell of the truth, her mind reasoned and yet in her heart, she felt he did not trust her enough to tell her. In some ways she could understand his deceit, in order to protect Chloe, in order to protect the child from ridicule as Searc had done with Robin.

And Iain... had he known? Why would he choose to withhold this information from her? How many people had known, she wondered as the freezing wind bit at her face. Had her family known? No, they could not have known, or they would have strongly protested against her marriage to Mark. Or had they only served to keep quiet for her happiness? Oh, but the world seemed a tangle mess in this moment.

What was up now was down, the whole world had gone topsy tirvy so that when she drew the horse into a stop, she could not fathom where she was, she did not recognize her surroundings. Her heat was pounding in her chest realizing now that she had gone insane for a moment. How could she hold a dagger on Chloe? How could she leave her in the snow like that? She prayed this was not a new battle to begin within her family when they had just found some semblance of peace.

Panting, her breath came out in pillows of smoke as she leaned down against the horse's neck and just let the world spin for a while. Night was slowly creeping in further, what light of sun had been left was now gone and the surroundings which had been confusing were not completely unrecognizable. For once, she did not care that her body was shivering near to throwing her off the horse with cold.

For once she wished the cold would consume her, for the pain in her heart, the pain and the rage, and so she made no move to find shelter, staying bent against the horse's neck, her ear pressed against the smooth side of the horse, she waited, for the cold to consume her as she prayed it would.

SLIGHTED FAITH