A/N: Oh my goodness The Falconer is one of my new favorite books and I just HAD to write a story for it! This book was just so well written, and I connect to all the characters in some way. I was so excited when I came across this book because it is exactly what I have been looking for! Amazing (but not flawless) kick butt heroine, romance, action, middle age weapons, humor, and wonderful minor characters! I am kind of sick of dystopian.
Anyways, I have a whole story planned out that I am beginning to write about the battle and how all that turned out, and it will link to a few of the aspects of this story. For now though, I needed to get this out.
In this story, Gavin and Aileana have a strictly friendship relationship. Oh, and I ship Aileana/Kiaran WAY too hard for my own good.
Disclaimer: The amazing Elizabeth May owns all of these characters and ideas. I am in no way trying to steal them; I am just letting out my love for The Falconer.
I gulp and fidget in my very tight and impractical, but admittedly pretty blue wedding dress. My lungs and throat ache, and my still healing ribs are protesting strongly to the pressure of the corset. I have no clue how I'm going to be able to walk in this thing with my broken and stitched leg. My injuries from the battle just complicate things, but I would handle a hundred more if that's what it would have taken to save Kiaran. Luckily it DIDN'T take that much.
That is not what worries me most though. The music has just started and I don't want to do this. I can't do this. I didn't choose to get married to Gavin.
It's not that Gavin isn't a wonderful man, but I don't love him; at least not in the way that marriage suggests. He doesn't love me either, but this was the only way to save our reputations. Besides, we both agree that getting married isn't what either of us wants to do; so getting married to each other should solve the problem without disrupting the whole bloody social system.
I am continually thankful that Kiaran understands why Gavin and I have to get married. Terribly overbearing and uncaring parents of both parties, incredibly damaged reputations, and the rest of the human race not understanding our faerie dominated lives are pretty good reasons.
The section of music before I come out starts playing, and I almost cry out in frustration. Everyone knows almost every girl (not me, not now) dreams of her wedding, and if that is what girls dream of, they should at least be able to choose their own husband. But of course, we have no say in anything, and Kiaran was never more correct then when he said what a cage I live in.
Suddenly, the very faery I'm thinking about appears beside me. I don't even jump anymore, I felt his power wash over me an hour ago, he has been here the whole time. I tell him that.
"Well," he replies, "I would be very upset if you didn't. It would show you lack skills." His brief half-smile tugs at his lips for an instant, before his unemotional mask is back in place. I am overcome by a powerful urge to kiss him, and it's not because I'm fae-struck.
I remember his urgent, fierce kisses, the love in his voice and eyes as he whispered to me before the battle,
"Aoram dhuit. I will worship thee." Those were the words that helped me save him, and the look in his eyes when he said them hasn't faded completely since then.
Rather unexpectedly, he pulls me to him, careful not to rumple my dress. He kisses me with a tenderness I didn't know he possessed, and he caresses my neck. Our relationship is very fierce, we are both hunters, but I relish these delicate and tender moments.
"I still stand by my pledge." he whispers, and I can see a glimpse of sorrow in his clear blue eyes.
"As do I. But I have no choice, and at least I will still manage to see you." My throat is tight, and I'm uncomfortably aware that I have to go out in exactly twenty seconds.
"Not the way we want, though. Never that way." His frustration is apparent.
"Don't say that. I love you." I want to pledge myself to a different man. 'What I want isn't important.' "I have to go."
"You can do it. You have done so much already." That helps me much more than he could know. It's as if he knows what would encourage me right now. He adds, "You don't look like yourself." He reaches over and tugs a lock loose from my intricate braid that I had placed seilgflùr in, as a embrace to who I actually am and a nod to who I was.
"There. Now go." A red curl lies on my shoulder and as I step out of my little room and into the foyer, Kiaran disappears. I step onto the church aisle, and my dress swishes as limp up to the altar in a very unladylike fashion. I try to hide my pain as best as I can, but I see people staring at me with strange expressions.
Hell and blast, Gavin and Catherine up at the altar have concerned looks on their faces. I glare at them subtly, for they will surely give me away. The concerned looks turn to happy ones, though I can see a bit of resignation in Gavin's eyes.
I nearly swear when I trip up the stairs, and Gavin gently takes my arm to steady me. Kiaran would have laughed and told me to ignore the pain, then hauled me up the stairs.
Ugh, I need to stop comparing. I completely shut Kiaran out of my thoughts and give Gavin an only slightly forced small smile. He smiles tentatively back, and I notice dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep.
As Reverend Milroy drones on and on, I have a silent exchange with Catherine that mainly consists of asking each other if the other was well. Then I survey the crowd.
Lady Cassilis is there with a very tight face, and many other ladies have the same expression. Lord Hamilton has an almost disappointed look on his face, and I feel a flash of sympathy for him. Then I catch sight of Kiaran in the back.
He is wearing gentleman finery, which I didn't notice earlier, and he gives me a sad half smile and nods. I give the tiniest of nods back and return my attention to Gavin.
He is wearing a very nice tailored overcoat, with a deep red vest that looks very good with his smoothed blonde hair. Gavin is holding my hands loosely, and I am surprised to notice he is shaking slightly. When I look into his eyes to question him, I see bone deep exhaustion.
Oh my, Gavin really wasn't exaggerating when he said he can't sleep because of the visions. I squeeze his hands, and he flashes me a brief smile before turning back to pretend to listen to Reverend Milroy.
Eventually, after we have waited so long I am having trouble breathing through the pain of my crushed ribs, we get to the vows. Gavin is first, and his hands clench mine as he stares into my eyes.
"I, Lord Gavin Galloway, take you, Lady Aileana Kameron, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." I repeat him, barely aware of my words. This is truly happening. No fairy tale Prince is going to swoop in and object like in the stories my mother used to tell me.
Crimson suits you best. I immediately squelch memories of my mother, pushing them back into the crevice of my mind. Reverend Milroy's voice rings out, like my doom sentence,
"You may kiss the bride." An apology is in Gavin's eyes. He doesn't like this either and he knows about the state of my relationship with Kiaran. Still, as I lean forward to kiss him, I don't hold anything back. It's the least I can do for everything he has done.
I feel his surprise as I kiss him fervently. There is no love there, but he responds. We end it fast, because neither of us really wants to kiss.
Everyone claps, and the ball afterwards is a blur of well-wishers and small talk; which I don't enjoy; and dancing; which I do enjoy despite my very painful broken leg. I'm glad Gavin is a good dancer; he held me close and went slow so I would not lose the step or my balance. I was rather put out that I was not in my best condition, otherwise I'm sure Gavin and I would have danced the entire evening.
The ball was just distracting from the inevitable night of the wedding. People expect us to go into our country house tonight. And everyone knows what comes after, though I know nothing of any sort of romance will happen.
As soon as we enter the house, Gavin collapses on a chair, and I do the same; albeit more gingerly due to my positively burning ribs. The whole night I was talking as I exhaled breath, and it is a good thing ladies are supposed to be soft spoken because I could not have spoken any louder. Even Catherine was having trouble hearing me. Damn, this corset is so tight, I NEED to get it off before my ribs break again.
"Gavin." I say quietly. It hurts my lungs. This is going to be SO awkward, but I can't do it myself. "Do you mind... Um, taking my corset off, please?" Gavin sits up straight and blushes, and he stutters out,
"W...why?"
"Because I can't bloody breath!" I breathe out in a growl. I can't wait till I can talk properly. His face clears a bit; I suppose he thought I was suggesting something.
"Oh, okay. Do you mind turning?" I slid over on the couch and turn so I'm facing the armrest. He sits behind me and starts to unbutton my dress to get to the corset. I am so glad I am wearing a chemise. I tense as his fingers accidentally brush my back.
This eerily reminds me of when I had been injured by the Cú sith and Kiaran... NO! I can't think about him. This time, there are no soft conversations or lingering touches, creating a much less tense environment. Instead I focus on Gavin muttering about 'how the hell is he supposed to get this stupid contraption off.'
"Unbutton the top of the corset and then undo the knot and pull the two strings from all the holes." He mutters to himself as he unknots it, and then pulls the string to tighten it so hard I cry out as my ribs protest heavily to the extra pressure.
"Oh Aileana I'm so sorry!" He sounds very awkward.
"It's alright." I gasp "Pull it through the holes the OTHER way." I feel the urge to cuss, but that would just make it more awkward, so I refrain.
"Right, right." He rumbles, concentrating. My goodness, it's not that complicated.
Finally, he manages to unlace it, and then he pulls it smoothly over my head. I sigh in relief as the pressure finally alleviates and my ribs and whole torso relax. I take in breaths as deep as I can, leaning against the back of the couch still facing away from Gavin. I then remember my manners and turn mildly to Gavin after he buttons my dress back up.
"Thank you very much." Then as I think about everything he's done for me, the biggest being marrying me, I add on, "For everything. For helping me that day with the Cú Sith. For saving me. Thank you for marrying me, and saving my reputation. Thank you for being a wonderful friend and for actually caring about me." Hell and blast, I ran my mouth. At least it's all in the open.
"Aileana..." He sighs. "You don't need to thank me. In fact I should thank you, for marrying me knowing that I don't want to marry and that you love someone else. All that other stuff; that was just me being there for you. Any man would have done it in my position."
I cannot believe he just said that. It makes me angry, that he is brushing off my attempt at thanking him as just something anyone would do. Logically, I know he is just being modest, but really?
"Really? You know not just anyone would stand by me in that situation. Stop trying to be so damn modest, because I was just trying to thank you." My tone is angry and I wince. I shouldn't be mad at him, but I can't help it. A whole day of social niceties, plus being married and having my aching ribs crushed for who knows how long, has NOT put me in a good mood.
"Aileana." Instead of being angry at me, he looks...amused. A smile plays on his lips. "You have developed quite the temper, haven't you?" I decide to smile back.
"I think it was always lurking under the surface. And I don't exactly have a temper; I'm just quite frustrated after a whole day of socializing with idiots obsessed with mindless gossip and reputations, and having my ribs veritably crushed for endless hours." Whatever else I have to say is already known, and Gavin actually looks sympathetic.
"I like Oxford better. Less idiots and less faeries." There goes any type of normal conversation, not that we were ever going to have one very long.
Gavin yawns widely, and my observations of his exhaustion come back to me.
"Gavin..." He looks at me, and I think he might know what I'm about to approach. Almost against my will, I take his hand, trying to convey my concern and sympathy. "You were under exaggerating what it meant to be a Seer." It's not a question, it's a statement, and he looks down at our hands.
"At night, my mind is encompassed by visions, giving me no rest. Ever. I can't remember the last time I slept more than two hours. It's almost like the visions take energy from me, making me even more exhausted. I haven't told anyone, because no one understands, except you." He looks at me, almost embarrassed.
"Gavin, it's alright. I want to help you, is there anything I can do?" I feel terrible for him; this is worse than even my rather pessimistic mind had come up with. I don't think there is anything I can do, but I must be polite as society states. Or is that just an excuse for caring?
"I don't think there is anything you can do. After the day, I am more tired and my mind is the most vulnerable. I am alone, and it's quiet. It's just the way it is."
"I refuse to believe that." He doesn't answer, and we must sit there for an hour in silence, my hand holding his. Then a timid maid comes in and asks me,
"Lady Kam- Galloway, would you like help preparing for bed?" I don't want her to see the enormous sutured wounds on my leg, or the bruises and scars that cover my body, especially my torso.
"No thank you. But could you please put a few warming pans in the bed?" She nods and leaves. I glance at Gavin to find him looking at me strangely.
"What, you have never put warming pans in the bed?" He shakes his head. "You are odd. Trust me it helps a lot." With that, I get up slowly, and wince as weight is put on my right leg. Crutches would help, but aren't an option; as I have no good excuse for having them. I limp out of the room and go to get out of my fancy wedding gown and into a night dress. I undo my hair and re-plait it loosely, tucking the seilgflùr away to use in weapons later.
This is going to be so very interesting. I walk out of the little room to the master bedroom to find Gavin sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the sheets. I cough once and try to dissolve the tension,
"I do believe you are on my side." He gives a small smile and moves himself to the other side. Though I won't admit it to myself, I am so tired and my leg is so painful I don't think I could even walk around the bed. I decide I will have to be the brave one of the two of us, so I turn back the covers and situate the bed warmers to my liking. Then I lie down and say to Gavin,
"I know you are tired. Try to sleep. This time, you will have someone there for you." He nods through a yawn, almost looking grateful. He lies beside me, and slowly I can hear his breathing even out.
Not ten minutes later, I suddenly feel him go tense, and I shoot up and whisper to him,
"Gavin, what is wrong?" He doesn't answer me, just lies still and tense. His eyes are open but clouded over, and suddenly he starts thrashing, reaching out and moving his legs like he is trying to run. He yells out,
"No! No, don't you see he's just a boy?' Tears slip out of his eyes, and I shake him to try and break him out of the vision. Eventually I give up, and situate myself so Gavin's head is lying in my lap. I look down, concerned, and smooth his hair, feeling awful for him.
I think Gavin has at least three more separate visions before I break down and try to bring him back again. The first thing that comes to my violent mind is a hard slap, so I do it. Gavin shoots up, slamming into my bent over head.
"Sorry!' I say as I clutch my head, reeling too much to say anything else. Once I recover from the initial shock of Gavin actually breaking from his trance, I look up to see if he is okay. One of his hands is on his reddened cheek, and he is blinking at me in surprise.
"You…You got me out of that." I look at him quizzically. "The visions. It usually takes me half the night to 'wake up' from them." Caught in the moment of our friendship, I hesitantly reach up my hand to his cheek.
"I'm sorry I slapped you, it's the only thing I could think of." He nods, and I can tell his mind is focusing on what he saw. I can see the horrors replaying in his eyes; he is obviously upset, even though he tries to hide it. "Don't think about them." Gavin answers with a tired,
"Alright."
"Here, come here." I gently press him into a lying position, his head on my lap. I take a bed warmer and put it close to him. Gavin curls around it like a bairn does to a favorite toy. He is blushing faintly, but I think he is too worn down to care that much. I, on the other hand, am blushing hotly. I remind myself we are just very close friends, and I know it is the truth.
"This is going to sound odd," I say. "but focus on my touch as you fall asleep. Zero in on it, don't think about anything else." Focusing helps me; maybe it will help him too. I run my fingers through his hair, and watch as his eyes drift close. Eventually, he falls asleep. I smile and softly wipe the stray tears marks from his face.
Maybe some good will come of this marriage. Maybe I can help Gavin finally feel at peace and fight against his power. This is something I can do, and quite possibly, an even stronger friendship can come from this. I haven't felt this good in a very long time.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I just want to let you know that I used a Christian wedding vow because Catholicism was most popular in that time period in England, and Christianity is strongly related to Catholicism. So I used a familiar and simple vow that I hope makes sense.
I am really bad at titles.
Also, if you would like to, please go vote on the poll in my profile!