Anamchara: Introduction
What inspired this story was a conversation with a friend who also read the books years ago, around the same time I did, and her favorite characters were Duncan and Dhugal. We were joking about how we'd both had girlhood crushes on the one main character in the series who was sworn to celibacy, and where was the romance fanfic potential in that? ;-)
But then, during that conversation, it hit me that this really could be a fascinating story to explore. What if Duncan were to fall in love again, years after losing his first wife, but now he's under holy vows and, being an honorable man with a sincere vocation to his priesthood, would never violate them? How would he handle that? And, given how young legal manhood is in Gwynedd (Duncan was only 15 when he married and 16 when Dhugal was born, so he'd only be 36-37 once Dhugal turned 20-21), what would happen if, by some odd happenstance father and son both developed a close emotional bond to the same woman? Duncan, of course, couldn't marry her, but how would the characters resolve the emotional conflicts that would be certain to cause? What sort of woman would either man be attracted to in the first place, and how would she have been in a position to meet either, much less get to know either of them long enough for love to develop? (Let's face it, there are few women in the Deryni books, and although the few that are there are quite strong in their own way, for the most part medieval marriages were arranged. Even Richenda had to be widowed from her first husband before she was free to follow her heart and marry Morgan, and even Morgan wouldn't have been free to marry just any woman. Fortunately Richenda was noble-born.) How could I write a heroine who could do more than hang around the ladies' solar doing embroidery, and yet have her fit in at least somewhat plausibly with that time period and society?
So I did a bit of Internet research, looking back at ancient Ireland for inspiration, Celtic myths such as the myth of Scathach, the Scottish warrior woman who trained Cú Chulainn, and the myth of Llyr. Also drew some small inspiration from Celtic Christianity as a counterpoint to the Roman Catholic/High Anglican inspired Church of Gwynedd. I postulated the idea of a Celtic island nation, perhaps similar to ancient Ireland, off the southwestern coast of Gwynedd, where maybe some Deryni had fled to over the centuries of Deryni persecution in Gwynedd itself. And from all that, I created a heroine to interact with our old favorites, coming up with a reason why she'd be in Kelson's service, how she'd have known the King's Champion Alaric Morgan, and how she'd eventually have come to know Duncan and Dhugal as well. And out of all of these elements, a story was born.
Once I had the idea, of course, I had to write it. Was practically driven to write it, in fact, so the entire novella (or novel? It's nearly 50K words, I think) was done in just three weeks, despite such handicaps as not having all of the original novels in hardcopy anymore, and having to download the Histories of King Kelson Trilogy in audio format and look up the novel synopses on Wikipedia just to refresh my memory of where some events fit into the overall timeline! (Once I did managed to get my hands on the actual hardcopies of The Bishop's Heir, The King's Justice, and Quest for Saint Camber, I'd already uploaded this story elsewhere and linked it to the Deryni Fanfic board at the Rhemuth Castle Forum, and then discovered that Dhugal's Court accent was not nearly as "broad Scots" as it's made out to be in the audiobooks! So if he seems to have far more of an accent than usual in this fanfic, let's just put it down to him lapsing into Border speech in the private company of close friends and family. I considered rewriting Dhugal's dialogue, but given that he's the central character of this story, and he's got a heck of a lot of dialogue, the mere thought of having to write every line of his dialogue over gives me a headache!) This was my first attempt at writing Deryni fan fiction, not to mention also my first attempt at any sort of fanfic of this length and complexity, but it practically wrote itself once I got started, because I was so caught up in the story as it unfolded in my mind that I couldn't do anything but write it during every free moment that I had until the whole story had been told.
And then I realized, I had spent three weeks of my life pouring myself into this story basically for a reading audience of one! And even though the original stories have been republished recently due to the first two books of the Childe Morgan series finally seeing print, it's harder to find SF fans who have read the books than it used to be. So I found a readership at the Rhemuth Castle forum. But since I often write multi-chapter stories, I decided to cross post a few here as well, and if there's enough interest, I might transfer more to this site as time permits. (This site makes reading multi-chapter stories easier than a standard forum board, I'm told.) While this was my first Deryni fanfic, I posted a few others here first before posting this one because I was still working out how to adapt this story's unusual format to FFN's chapter-based layout. In the end, I decided to keep the parts as I originally wrote them, which means that some of the "chapters" of this story will be a lot longer than an average "chapter," but I had my reasons for dividing the story up as I did, which I hope will be apparent as the story unfolds, and I hope the two or three "super-chapters" aren't too much of a slog for new readers to get through. The interludes between those will be quite short by comparison, I promise.
My story (including flashback scenes) covers the years 1117-1129, so that's basically the last 3 years of Brion's reign to the winter and spring following Kelson's wedding to Araxie in August, 1128. Feedback is quite welcome.
Enjoy!
Anamchara
by Evie Delacourt
Part I—Dhugal's Story
Prologue
The Year of Our Lord 1125
The Duchy of Corwyn
"Once she's recovered from the babe's birth, Princess Rothana plans to go to St. Kyriell's to learn more about the Servants of Saint Camber." The Lady of Llyr's clear seafoam green eyes studied me solemnly as she plucked absently at a blade of grass between us. "I've offered to accompany her, Dhugal."
My mind reeled at the unexpected news. "For how long?" I finally managed, my voice cracking slightly, betraying the strain I felt. I had sensed a growing distance between us since my return to Rhemuth, after King Kelson and I had been presumed dead for weeks following our ill-fated quest for relics connected to Saint Camber. The unexpected separation had only served to convince me that I had fallen irrevocably in love with Catriona, Lady of Llyr. Unfortunately, it seemed to have had an opposite effect on her, and in the past few months since my return to Court, I had sensed her withdrawing from the closeness that had started to grow between us over the previous year.
She shrugged a slim shoulder. "That, I can't say. As long as I'm called to stay, I suppose. There's so much to learn about their Order; it could end up being quite a while."
And there it was, like an invisible wall between us. Her priestly vocation. One which, unlike such vows taken in the Church of Gwynedd, did not prevent her from taking marital vows as well, for the Lady Catriona was a priestess in the Church of Llyr which had its own ways, although in the essentials of our shared faith it remained in unity with the Church of Gwynedd. Still, I sensed that it was not simply the divine call that was causing a breach between us now. No, the Lady was wielding her calling as a shield, protecting herself with it. I could sense that much. The problem was, I had no idea why.
"Well…you're plannin' on returnin' tae Rhemuth at some point, will you no'? Ye've still got other duties tae Kelson…." Other duties related to her other calling, almost like a vocation in its own way and even harder for me to understand than the calling of the priesthood.
She smiled wryly, twirling the plucked blade of grass around one slender finger. "Aye, The Kyle of Shiele will still be in service to the King, should Kelson have need of The Kyle. Just not in Rhemuth. He'll know how to reach me, should he ever be in need of my aid."
And what of me? I wondered. What of my need? But I kept my thoughts as tightly shielded as hers, unwilling for her to see how much she was hurting me. She knew anyway. Her voice softened with her next words as she dropped the blade of grass she was playing with, resting her hand on mine instead.
"Dhugal…a chara…I shan't be gone forever, you know."
My friend, she called me. But no longer a chuisle, my pulse. Had her feelings cooled during my weeks of absence, or was she simply unwilling to admit to them any longer, in light of the headier desires stirring within her due to her divine calling? For I knew, no matter how much I might once have meant to the Lady of Llyr, there was another love more sacred to her than all earthly loves. One that she held even higher than her love for her anamchara.
Her anamchara, my father.
"Have ye told Duncan yet?"
She nodded. "He knows. I told him earlier this morning."
Aye. Before she'd sought me out. It was the way of things between them, and no surprise to me. Normally the order of the telling wouldn't have mattered so, but at that moment my heart was raw and felt the news as keenly as a slap.
Cat drew her hand back into her lap, interlacing her fingers as she leveled an unfocused gaze in the general direction of the seashore. We listened to the waves of the rising tide come in, but this time the silence between us didn't bring the customary peace of spirit it once had done. I returned my gaze to her face, studying her out of the corner of my eye. It was serene as ever, as still as deep well water, with only the occasional flicker of her eyelashes and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing to break the momentary illusion that I was merely looking at her painted statue. A faint sea breeze wafted through her tawny hair, gently caressing the unbound tresses trailing down her back and causing the narrow leather-bound braids to either side of her face to sway gently like willow branches. A brief moment in time, seemingly preserved forever as if in amber, but suddenly she shifted her attention back to me, and the moment passed.
She stood.
"Go with God, Dhugal." She offered me a hand up, her slender fingers bearing the rough sword calluses from her years of sword practice that had stood her in good stead as The Kyle of Shiele, though they were no less feminine for all that. Not at this moment, as she stood before me not as The Kyle, but as the Lady of Llyr.
"Dia leat, Catriona." I reached to embrace the woman I loved, and briefly she softened, holding me tightly as if she could no more bear to walk away from me than I could bear to see her leave. But then her arms dropped to her sides. She turned and walked away, leaving me gazing after her, but she spared no backwards glance.
The next morning saw my departure with Kelson for the Court at Rhemuth. By the time we next returned to Corwyn, the Lady of Llyr was long gone.