|
Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Aug 19, 2008 16:32:06 GMT -6
He touched her face by letting the curve of his bent hand stroke the upturned cheek. Hungry for the chance to be fed on his attention she was still amazed by how her body would never miss a chance to receive him. It was only his hand but it was enough. His eyes were open. They looked on her with the ability to appraise every step she took in this life. "Adam," she whispered the way monks said their benedictions, "Good night m'love. Ah shan't be long behind ye."
The fire yestereve was lazy in the approach it took to devouring the wood. One lazy leap over the next, a fall of ember fluttering about with no real ambition but to glow prettily for the watching woman. How slow it was made the hours she spent by it stretch longer as it danced into petite folded layers of hair, over the bent knee beneath the white dress. Her life as a persistant piece of slow burning fire that neither elements or man could snuff out. Made for good bouts of weathered times to be endured as years rain an onslaught of challenge was the stock of the Aberdeenshire. She was an oddity of a woman; endowed the height of Norwegian frost giants, gold-headed, and green eyes glittering like a specter's. At the same time she was endowed with a good, well healed length of skin flushed with healthy color. It wasn't too hard to imagine her five, ten, or even fifteen years younger. An ageless sort of face her husband had touched, one she now rested her hand against in thought.
Even the war-torn had stories about their beauty. Even the White Hound was known for more than her temper, her bluntness, or her blade. For all the talk of wanting her replaced as Adam's wife there was a healthy level of lust for her among men of the same or age advanced only by a handful of years. They wanted what the Duke had. Despite her unorthodoxy, she cherished him. Her home stood. The boy was well, and the bed never went cold. Most who gossiped were no less than frigid.
The time had come at last to do away with fire-watching. Leaving the library behind, she soon found her way to the Duke's bedroom, thus her own. It was only in his absence that she slept in the West Wing, when her actions told what her mouth would not: time without him was too lonely.
"Adam," she whispered on the edge of the four poster bed, pulling back the curtains to look on his face. He was gazing off toward the wall, smiling as she leaned in to kiss his jaw. "Ye did nay need to wait up. Are ye well?"
|
|
|
Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Aug 25, 2008 10:51:34 GMT -6
Adam patted the bed for her to join them… his calloused hand barely touching her face, beckoning her to lie beside them.
Joyous in the truth the trio was a familiy, something that he had been denied in his upbringing… The false coverings of years past being stripped away from hidden truth as Bess and Adam found clue after clue of what had transpired, and how evil his Father had been… Soon they would venture to Aberdeenshire to chisel away at his wife’s past… to find what mysteries forced her to live the years as she had…
Had her Father and his Father been comrades? Or had they been fierce enemies? Were her relatives dead or alive? Murdered or sheltered…? Had Bess been stripped of all her fecundity due to hostility of men or was it the genocide by a select few?
It was what was on Adam’s mind as he lay next to Aodhan, and looked up to his wife’s face… distant lightning highlighting a beauty that was not corrupted by all the agony of life nor the eons of time… a youthfulness that betrayed the years… and smiled a beam of adoration.
|
|
|
Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Aug 25, 2008 13:37:51 GMT -6
The candle light danced across her face to throw away the shadows, only for the entire lot to be cast off by the lightning. A seasoned warrior jumped at it, happy to come into the bed with her family. Laughing softly, she noticed the boy's figure curled against Adam. In this she saw not the difference of their skin but the way in which they mirrored one another's embrace. "It shouldn't last long..." she came to the front where Aodhan could be between them. "Sounds a capricious sort o' rain." The small scar from the handfasting marked where a prick of blood was given to flow into the veins of the children. Unbeknowest to them, Adam and Beathag already shared a small portion of the infinite river of a great history. Aodhan now had that, the blood of MacRauri and the harper too, beating around his heart. As the thunder rolled off the hillside, the rain on the window would fall to many places. Soaking in the ground. Beating on stone and roof alike.
Through the bows of a white bloomed tree. If the wind blew too hard, all of the flowers would come down..from Adam she hid her own tear shed at the thought of Edme's resting place with none of the white flowers. Soon fall would rob them, and winter devour it. Months agone. Now the rain came, and she could not hold her as they did Aodhan.
Many people couldn't be held anymore, touched, or adored. Her callused hands would lay empty if not for the brown skin or the white of Adam. From what she could recall there would be nothing to show of where they would head. Often, she thought of taking them there. Often, she'd sailed a ship on to the dock but never disembarked. Aberdeen and the Aberdeenshire were a time long gone. A bare field.
Empty were the dreams with no one to recite the names anymore. Her great grandparents, grandparents, aunts and uncles were gone. Taken by fever, plague, age, war. Taken by the end of life after many years. An ageless face caught the bow of the light - Thirty-five a falacy as five, ten years peeled away save for the corners of an eye moored in life's fashion of a life lived on the cusp of nothing but fullness. Strength, hardness, a gentle spirit. The heart of a woman, the strength of a man, the fierceness of a hound of hell. Did he see the sadness before it disolved in the love light forming as she studied him, too?
"When do you want tae leave, Adam? When ye are ready I am."
|
|
|
Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Sept 6, 2008 7:04:48 GMT -6
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked upon the woman who he called wife with a smile. Words did not come, only the look of sea-green eyes that would offer love, comfort, and consternation for not allowing bad things happen to those whom he cherished. A strong hand, firm but gentle, took her by the wrist and pulled her onto the bed. Again no words spoken, but the action voiced a thousand expressions…
As she offered no resistance, but simply neared him, his hand went to her back, contributing no more than a gentle backrub. “Bess, ye knaew Ah luv yae… and Ah knaew things bae hardest naew yae know wet lies in Aberdeenshire…” rising only to lead her to the door… “We’ll bae getting’ a drink tae discuss this…” And as they departed, young Aodhan was taken to his own room and lay fast asleep.
Ignia Ferroque: The crowd filled the tavern, but the din of the voices were drowned by the gaze of her green eyes... his attention totally upon her, he moved close... "M’heart, shall we naet gae tae Aberdeen, for it shadows yer heart..."
Set In Her Way: "We can nay change course now," she smiled as her eyes began to hollow, "n' asides...Aodhan ought see where his blood a'comes from. One day I promised tae take him home, just ne'er thought ne'er to have the strength… tae refuse to go. Tis humiliatin', Adam. We're gaein' before the King n' a woman's worth is gaein' tae be judged beyond more than the content o' her fookin' character." Her hands met with one another, opened, with nothing in them. "I be a fine wife n' a good leader perhaps dun doubt tha' but a failure as a woman. "
Ignia Ferroque: "Change course? we dun have tae even gae..." he frowns... "Nae one shall look down at ye faer afailure as a woman... they shall laud yae as a fine leader... Ye worry tae much Luv...”
Set In Her Way: "A wife who's lost a daughter while at wot… at war, n' whose son be alone. Adam... nay all the world thinks as we do," she said gently for it was the truth. "N' nay matter what they laud me fore tis nay enough anymore. Can nay remember, n' when I do it hurts. Books tell me more than m'own mother or mind. M'father's lineage will continue with m'brother, a brother who probably thinks I'm a waste o' blood in the veins." She huffed, "Dun listen tae meh now tis nay right. Tis just tha'...dun mark wanti' tae show ye graves n' the like, n' wot was..just what is."
Ignia Ferroque: Setting his glass down, he takes her by the arms and looks at her face to face... "If it bae graves, markers or nay... then that wot we seek... if'en more...great... if'en nay... then we shall place a monument... Yer mae wife... and Lady o' de Isles... and ye shall bae treated as such... but knaew this... Ah luv ye... always have...always will..."
Set In Her Way: "Ye always have... Adam ye did nay e'en… we did nay e'en remember we was children teagether," But some part of her had. Perhaps that part had only needed to be reminded. The din of people fell away as she pulled him to where they could speak alone. "I dun want tae see gravestones, or markers, or monuments..but we do need tae know, I can nay keep thinkin, there must be fact. I want the king tae call me your harper. I want tae dae m'mother proud n' somethin."
Ignia Ferroque: He looks away... she had hit a cord... a cord of not remembering... but his Father had been the cause of that... he listens and looks at her.... "we shall see the King and see wot 'e says..."
Set In Her Way: "N' will the Bruce be e'er King? One house rises, n' falls, another rises n' falls." She put her hand to his face, "I'm sorrah..I know ye hurt too"
Ignia Ferroque: Her hand found a stern jaw, one now set upon stone... "Bessie Eve... Ah tell ye naew... with the split o'Scotland, and at our front door... Ah won't care who'll bae King... for Skye will reign strong..." he looks away then back... "If'en yae know wot Ah say..." What he was saying could be considered treason by many... but he would not allow a failing Scotland, nor an invader as England, stop Skye…
Set In Her Way: "Ah know." They had gone too far to go back now. She knew, too, that Robert the Bruce couldn't challenge the fact that the MacRauri's had long been sovereigns if not princes in their own right. Her arms wrapped tight around him as she said, "Wot have we gotten ourselves intae, wot future will our boy look 'pon."
Ignia Ferroque: He smiles that charming wicked smile... "If'en I get my way... he will have a land that stretches far and wide... to make Alexander the Great's realm too small, or the Roman empire look like farmland... and he will not make the mistakes of the Ceasars... nor the young Alexander listening to his generals..." he smirks... "He will further the Gaelic Rennaisance we have started... and his family will go on after him..."
Set In Her Way: "Wot if he does nay wish this," she dared to ask of their new life's work being passed to a child with no choice, "Adam we're standin on' the thresholds o' either a great thing or hell n' our boy could inherit both if we are nay careful. I dun want him hunted down….”
Ignia Ferroque: “Well, if he dun.,.. then he can set the countries free... divide it... wot ever... but until Ah am dead, tis nay matter... but it will depend on how he teach him luv..."
Set In Her Way: ”By the....terrors ye father is gaein' tae produce with his new trollop. Yer the only good thing he's e'er done.." He spoke and she kissed him softly, "I just want us tae be alright when we gae tae Aberdeen, dun want wot is in some msilly book tae change or make things different…”
“Then tae Aberdeenshire we’ll gae…” he smiled at her… “Ah promise, we shall gae after the Masq of the Autumn Equinox…” Adam knew they would have to go then before the winter gales set in and would make sailing harsh… but they could not go before as they were required at the Masq… to afford those the honors deserved for actions of the Valley… He just smiled and brushed errant curls from his forehead… “But naew lassy, we have bus’ness tae attend in our chambers…” as he bade those present a good eve… he took her hand and lead her to the safety of the bedchambers… There they would once again delve themselves in the practice of lovemaking as two young lovers would.
Though barren of children of their own flesh and blood, that would not stop them from trying... they could only hope and pray to whatever God was listening...
|
|
|
Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Sept 7, 2008 11:48:33 GMT -6
If a ship sailed toward a heart's oblivion he would turn it away no matter what command called them forward. To know that alone meant more to a woman who still could hardly fathom what she, at heart, believed and understood. Love was a power that brought the mighty to their knees. Love split her in twain and refashioned the inside outward to meet the new life, the new year of the Griffin reign
A homecoming didn't await her there to show, nor were any left that would be happy at her arrival for none really cared. It was the absence she dreaded, digging up more from this Pandora's box of facts with no one to share them with.
For duty much was done, but duty broke the hearts of others. No more would she break Eamonn's with facts that made him see himself as the lesser heir of a broken man. Some pieces were made peace with while others were strange.
The Masquerade though, softened the ice around her heart and healed pieces of memory so who knew what Aberdeen would hold? Like the rooms that held the voices of kin, did they not call, too, over the sea to pull the child of Obar Dheathain home? Crying gave way to laughter, laughter to quiet as she lay again in her husband's arm watching the mist roll to the sea from their balcony.
"There his hope," she murmured as she turned her eyes to his. "Mayhap aye? I want tae see your arms as full, your face as happy as m'brothers."
|
|