Title: I Want To Love You Madly
Author: Dragonfly (guardhoe@yahoo.com)
Disclaimer: I promise to return Hugh, Duncan, Methos, Richie, Connor and Rachel when I'm finished. All nice and folded up neatly too. wink Ryanne is all mine.
Summery: Fitz fic in which I miss with Scottish history a bit.
* * * *
"I don't want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don't want to worry whether
We're gonna stay together
'Till we die" - Cake, 'Love You Madly'
[Lanark, Scotland - May 1297]
"Little one? Do you have a name beautiful?" Hugh Fitzcarin gazed down at the bloodied body of the young woman laying in the grass. She certainly was a piece of work, red curls were turned even darker by blood that, if Fitz was to guess, wasn't her own. Blue eyes blinked rapidly as she woke and attempted to take in her surroundings. She was dressed much like the men had been, in the plaid of her clan, all blues and green, her breast had been bound so that she simply looked like the rest of the men. One who wore a simple shirt with her kilt and who had the most beautiful bright blue eyes the Englishman had ever seen.
"Who are you?" said eyes narrowed as she stood unsteadily on to her feet.
"Forgive me, I'm Hugh Fitzcarin, and your name is?"
"Ryanne Wallace." She answered simply, never taking her eyes off of Fitz.
"Well my Lady Wallace you should be more careful about who's blade you allow to strike you so deeply."
Ryanne raised her eyes defiantly. "I do not know what you are talking about sir. I was merely resting my eyes."
Fitz couldn't help the laughter that rose up out of him. Hellfire, she was something! "Oh? Than I am to believe that you always cut slash marks in your shirt and coat them with blood?" Ryanne's eyes went wide as her fingers found the cut in the fabric. "Milady, you were dead when I found you."
"How can it be? Surely this is just a trick."
The blond Englishman shook his head. "No trick my dear. You are Immortal now, as am I." The redhead's mouth dropped open. "You can not die, unless someone takes your head in what we call the Game."
"A game? Than there are rules to this madness?"
"A few. First, all challenges are one on one. Second, Immortals never fight on Holy Ground, no matter what the religion. And finally, there can be only one."
Ryanne looked puzzled. "Only one? But why? Why can't there be two? Or three, or ten?"
"I'm afraid do not know my dear, that's what I was told my teacher, and he was told by his."
"Teacher?"
"All Immortals have a teacher, someone who shows them how to fight, and how to live."
"So then you shall be mine?"
Fitz looked slightly shocked. He had only been in the Game for a little over seventy years, was he ready to take on a student? Especially a student such as Ryanne Wallace? It was clear that her cousin had already taken in upon himself to teach the girl how to fight, who's to say she even needed a teacher? But then, if he didn't help her at least find a decent teacher and she were to be beheaded Fitz didn't think he'd be able to deal with the guilt of abandoning her. Oh he was going to regret this.
"Well, I suppose so Lady Ryanne. I'd be delighted." Pause. "Just how old are you my dear?"
"Eighteen."
Yup. Defiantly going to regret it later on in life.
*
[New York City, New York - December 2001]
"I see a little silhouetto of a man. Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango. Thunderbolt and lightning - very very frightening me. Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo Figaro - magnifico!"
Ryanne laughed as she watched Connor, Adam and Duncan wash the dinner dishes in Connor's sink. She could always count on the MacLeods and the old man to make her shake her head and laughed until she had tears running down her cheeks. In the old days it would have been Fitz in there instead of Pierson, or whatever the hell he was calling himself these days. And they most defiantly wouldn't have been singing Queen. She was surprised Connor and Duncan even knew the words! Well okay, so Connor wasn't that big of a shock, he had after all gone with her and Fitzcarin to Woodstock after much pleading.
"What's all this racket? It sounds like someone is killing a cat. The poor thing." Connor's daughter Rachel stood in the doorway with her arms crossed across her chest. She tried to look stern but the playful light in her eyes gave her away. "You guys were sent in here to clean the dishes, so you can help Ryanne and I with the decorations for the party."
"Oh Rachel." Duncan walked over towards the silver haired woman with a very mischievous look. Like a little kid plotting to steal mother's apple pie the Scotswoman thought ruefully. The younger MacLeod grabbed Rachel and gave her a bear sized hug, while Adam aimed and fired the detachable faucet, soaking the woman. The three men erupted in laughter as Ryanne tried to hide hers.
"Oh! Duncan! Adam!"
Connor choked back his laughter and smiled at his daughter. "Lighten up Rachel. It's nearly Christmas and we have more than enough time to get all of the decorating done before the guests arrive, in two days," The older MacLeod looked pointedly at Rachel. "Especially now that Ryanne is here at last. Cleaver of you to show up just in time to eat, and manage to get out of helping with the clean up." Connor's laughing blue eyes met hers.
"What? You're shocked and amazed?" Ryanne laughed. "You should know me by now Connor, when it comes to dishes or cleaning of any kind I say no thank you, I'd sooner let someone take my head." Duncan and Adam laughed and Connor muttered something about 'that damned Englishman'. "Fitz had nothing to do with it, you try cleaning up after an army of men for ten years and see how you like it."
"That bad?" Rachel asked.
"Aye. A hundred stubborn Scots and one woman, enough to make her seek the bed of the lone Irishman. At least he told good stories." Ryanne winked.
"Irishman? Stephen of Ireland?" The mortal woman's eyes widened as she remembered the tales of the battle for Scotland's independence from Connor and Duncan, and the few gems she'd managed to pry from the one girl that had been there.
"The one and only." Adam snorted at the smirk on the girl's face. "Anyway. Who's coming to this little party of yours dear?" She said ignoring the old man. If he wanted to be that way fine. Two can play at that game my dear *Stephan*
*
[Edinburgh, Scotland - June 1297]
Ryanne watched the Irishman, there was something about him, a feeling she got when ever he was near, the same one that she got when she was near Hugh Fitzcarin, whom she'd managed to talk in to allowing her to stay with William and his men, training with him when ever she was in Edinburgh. Which was more often now that William had suddenly decided she needed to keep out of the fighting, and away from him. She snorted. Stephan must have said something to him, her cousin would never have told her to back off other wise. She watched as he left the castle and made his way towards the tree she sat under.
"I thought I'd find you here." Her cousin's friend sat down next to her, his hazel eyes never once looking her way.
"Oh? And what is it that you want Stephan?"
"When did you die?" He asked finally looking at her.
"May. At Lanark." She glared at him. "You knew what I was to become?"
"I knew."
"And you told my cousin to send me away." It wasn't a question, but he answered anyway.
"Yes I did. Ryanne, one day the English are going to catch up with us and William is going to lose his head, as are his friends and family. You saw what happened to Marion."
"But as long as they don't take my head I'm fine!"
"Yes, but what's to stop them from doing just that once you get up and walk away from a very public death?"
"What's to stop them from doing the same to you?"
Stephan smiled. "I don't plan on getting caught my dear."
"I'd like to see you manage that." Ryanne said in disbelief.
"I'll have you know girl, that I've gotten away from tougher than the English with out losing my head, I think I can manage to vanish quite well, if not quickly."
They where both quiet for a minute as they watched the nobles arguing with each other.
"Tell me, have you a teacher?"
"Yes."
"Here in Edinburgh I take it. I saw you sneak off last night, your cousin seems to think you have a lover." Stephan smiled as Ryanne's face turned as red as her hair. "Tell you what, if you promise to train with me as well than I will talk to William and get him to take you back. However, I must warn you that I am a very strict man and that if I decide to end our training I shall do so. How does that sound?"
Ryanne thought for a minute before nodding.
"Good." Stephan smiled and stood. "I shall go talk to your cousin then."
*
[New York City, New York - December 2001]
Ryanne stood in the middle of the ballroom and looked around at the lovely decorations that they had set up for the party the next day. Immortal friends of Connor's (and one mortal, Joe Dawson) would be coming from all over the world to spend Christmas together as they had for the past thirteen years now. Amanda had arrived just an hour before, and Duncan's student Richie Ryan had shown up around noon, falling straight into bed after pausing to flirt with her. The thought of Richie made her smile. The young man had been in love with her ever since she'd first shown up at Duncan's loft in Seacouver four years ago. It made her feel good to know she was still attractive, even if some people, *Adam*, seemed to have grown tired of her.
She shook her head, causing some of her red curls to fall lose from the ponytail she wore. She refused to let herself think about him, even if he was asleep up stairs at that very moment. Adam had broken her heart seven hundred years ago when he had betrayed her. He could have helped her to 'vanish' if he was so good at it, instead he let the English guard shoot her right there in that field. *He* could have stopped him. When she asked him why he didn't do just that his reply had been that she hadn't lost her head had she? Well then what was she complaining about? She was free and clear now, as far as everyone was concerned Ryanne Wallace was dead, she could do what ever she wanted to do now. He hadn't been pleased when he told her that fighting the English was what she 'wanted to do' and took off for Fitz's house.
"Hey." She turned around and found Connor watching her from the doorway.
"Hey yourself."
"Can't sleep? Neither can I."
The two stood in silence for a while watching each other until Connor finally spoke.
"Did Adam say something to you?"
Ryanne faked innocence. "What do you mean Connor?"
"Ry, I know you better than that. You and he have a history together don't you?"
She sighed. "You could say that. And no dear heart, he didn't say a word, I've just been torturing myself."
"Brooding."
"Well you and Duncan are fastly becoming world class brooders, I'm simply trying to catch up." She joked.
"Heh-heh. Okay, I shall leave you to your brooding then. If you need to talk." Ryanne smiled. "See you in the morning Ry."
"Thank you Connor." She called after him.
A slight smiled on her face she left the ballroom intent on heading for her bed, or sofa as it was. In the shadows of the room she swore she saw Fitz standing there. His blonde hair curly as ever and his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. Her ghost smiled at her and bowed. Around her she swore the air smelt of tobacco and she could hear Hugh's musical voice calling out, "Merry Christmas my dear Lady Ryanne."
*
[London, England - January 1664]
Five laughing Immortals sat in Fitzcarin Manor telling tales of their latest travels and what not, correcting and interrupting each other every now and then with comments like; "Oh, that wasn't what happened, what happened was.." "Really, however did you get away?" and "Oh, that little moron, is he still alive?"
Ryanne watched Fitz and the MacLeods with a smile, the three men got along famously, and that Amanda woman Duncan brought, well she was something that was certain. It was good to have another woman around, she'd been with Hugh for far too long.
Not that she was complaining. It seemed that no mater what happened she and Hugh ended up falling into bed together when ever they ran into each other regardless of what ever relationship the other, or they, where in. That must be why I can never keep a man. She thought. As far as she was concerned, she and Fitz could go on like that for another four hundred years and she wouldn't tire of it. No, Hugh Fitzcarin wasn't a man you could tire of, even if he did call her his dear Lady Ryanne every time he saw her. If it had been any other man she would have shown him just how ladylike she was.
Before she knew it the MacLeods and Amanda where leaving.
"Ryanne, my dear, is there something wrong? You didn't seem like yourself earlier." Fitz asked when they were alone.
She smiled. "Just fine love. Merely thinking, that's all."
"Ah. Well than I have just the thing for that." The redhead smiled at her lover's playful mood.
"Do you now?"
"Oh yes. Come into my arms Milady and I shall cure you of your ability to think."
"Confidant are you?"
Fitz gathered her up in his arms and seemed to think for a minute. "Well, I've not had any complaints yet."
"Well than, what are you waiting for dear heart?"
"Merely your permission sweet lady."
"Well you have it my good sir."