Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all Saban.
Author Notes: Chapter 2! Aisling is entirely my own creation. I hope she works out.
They'd stopped again for a rest. Aisling was crouched, talking quietly to the faun that had wandered out into their path. Garrett was refilling the waterskins, but found his gaze drawn back to his companion. If he was such a man for romantics, his breath might catch at the sight of her in the sunlight. She was to be admired, he felt no shame in admitting that, and he was a lucky man to call her his own. She'd laughed when he'd said that.
"We're not to be tethered, Garrett," she'd chided, her hands full of dog roses and ragged robins and her pockets overflowing with them. "If I am yours, then you are mine also."
"A fair exchange," he'd conceded.
"A balance," she'd corrected, tucking a dog rose into his horse's bridle. "That's what we are."
She was looking at him now, with a smile on her face that warmed him in a manner he was still becoming used to. If he concentrated, he could catch the faun's thoughts. A whisper of flighty alertness and then wonder from her encounter with Aisling. It would only take a small effort to gain control over the animal. But instead he allowed it to leave and raised his eyes to see that Aisling's smile had widened.
"I'll make a forester prince of you yet," she laughed, swinging up into the saddle of her horse.
"And I'll make you a princess of Reged."
"And the forest will come with us. It will follow us home."
Garrett laughed. He could believe that. When he had first met her, she was close like a vine to the great oak tree in Reged forest, dressed in greens and browns, part of the forest itself. She had shown him the customary respect for royalty, but he had felt her disapproval at his use of his powers. He had never known anyone who dared to show disapproval of a prince, especially to his face.
"What are the forests like in Kells?" she asked.
"Plentiful. The war with Temra has not been unkind to them. There's villages at their outskirts."
"No one lives in them."
"No one, princess," his smile was a tease on the last word. "People feel safer behind stones."
"That should change now that there's peace."
Garrett shook his head at her. She had never lived behind stone walls and could not fight with sword or staff. She did not even want to learn. Her understanding of the world was oceans apart from his. His father had liked that. He had also liked the power that she could bring into the royal bloodline.
King Conchobar still expected him to marry Deirdre. Today was going to be a very good day. Rohan would be in his debt a hundred times over, a glorious thing. Aisling smiled questioningly at his sudden smirk, even more when he halted their horses and grabbed her reins. He kissed her with the hunger of the forest and felt the moss-green touch of her fingers in his hair and on his skin in the sunlight.
"So it is agreed?"
There were murmurs from the chieftains and King Conchobar sat back satisfied. Ivar would take the message of greeting, thanks, and friendship to his kingdom when he returned there soon. Conchobar would miss the quiet and scholarly prince. It had been most useful to have someone in Kells with such great experience of court matters and who could pass lessons from this onto Deirdre.
He had hoped that Ivar would persuade Deirdre to see her betrothal to Garrett through, as Ivar was betrothed himself and knew of the importance of royal marriages. But Ivar had come to him with a sombre look and reported that Deirdre's mind could not be changed and he would not push his friend into too much anger. He suggested Angus for such a job, but the former thief had yelped that he would not be used for that again. Apparently he still had bruises.
Rohan was of little help also. Whilst he was clearly happy to be back with his friends, he was a pale shadow of the warrior Conchobar had fought beside in the war. According to Cathbad, Rohan's heritage was causing him much pain and he was having difficulty accepting the responsibility of Temra. That would have to change.
"Rohan," he raised his voice. "The time has come for you to make Temra your own. There's few others I would trust with such a task."
Rohan stepped forward and the hum of talk rose. Conchobar could clearly see Rohan flinch and Deirdre's concerned look.
"My King honours me," Rohan immediately gained the court's attention. "But are you sure that one of Maeve's blood should take the throne of Temra? Surely it is too much of a risk."
There were some agreements from the crowd, which gained only loud protesting and threats from Angus. Ivar wore a similar glare, his silence speaking louder than Angus's words. It was Deirdre who stepped forward.
"My father's right. Temra is Rohan's and he should be its king," her expression was unyielding and it seemed to make Rohan stand taller. "There's no other the Temras would trust as well as the people of Kells. I trust him, as should everyone here."
"I agree," Ivar stepped to join Deirdre. "You're a good leader, Rohan. Your people need you."
"And you shall have Kells full support," the King spoke up. "After all you have done for us, we are all in your debt."
Rohan looked overwhelmed and somewhat trapped, as cheers filled the throne room. Angus knocked against his shoulder, a wide grin on his face.
"What is your answer, young apprentice?" Cathbad asked from beside the King.
"I will do as my King asks," managed Rohan, colour returning to his face though there was a tightness to his jaw still. "But I do not think myself worthy and can only hope to repay the trust you have in me."
"So, who seconds the choice of Rohan for the throne of Temra?"
Conchobar spoke the traditional question, but it was an unexpected person who answered.
"I do!"
The crowd parted and Garrett strode forward. Conchobar did not recognise his companion. She was not a servant by her clothing, nor of royal blood. But she walked beside Garrett as an equal.
"I bring greetings from Reged," Garrett's smile was wide. "And my support for Rohan."
"Trust him to make an entrance," that was Angus, followed swiftly by a grunt of pain as Rohan elbowed him sharply.
"Garrett, it's good to see you again."
Ivar clasped the prince's hand warrior-style as he spoke, a gesture that Rohan, Deirdre and even Angus repeated. Rohan looked slightly more strained and the noise in the room was growing deafening again. It had been several months since Garrett had been in Kells and there had been talk from some chieftains that the alliance with Reged could not be relied upon with Garrett absent and no marriage between the kingdoms.
The King got to his feet. His court was in danger of becoming a battlefield. He had hoped that peace might bring quieter times, but even in his own castle, matters remained tumultuous. It did not speak well of Kells.
"Enough!" it was not quite a shout, but the command gained complete silence. It was not without cause that Conchobar was feared as a great warrior king. The King turned back to Garrett. "It has been some time, Garrett. What news do you bring?"
"A strengthening of our alliance," Garrett produced a bound scroll. "In my father's hand."
"Good news indeed," the King accepted the scroll with a pleased expression.
"But there is more," Garrett extended a hand to his companion, which she took with a small smile. "This is Aisling, my intended."
Deirdre's expression was of pure shock and the talk in the room buzzed quietly and urgently, mindful of the King. Surely this would damage the alliance, Garrett was long promised to Deirdre. The wedding was supposed to happen now that peace had come to Kells.
The King sank back onto his throne. Whatever news he had expected from Reged, it was not this.
"This is not a break of trust in our alliance," Garrett was quick to speak before the King could.
"But the agreement, you were to talk with Deirdre now that peace had come to Kells," the King found his voice again.
"And it would be an honour for us both," Garrett sent a smile to the Princess who wanly smiled back, still in shock. "But there is no call for it. Our prior alliance will hold and more – our kingdoms will always be bound together. And my heart now lies elsewhere. The scroll is clear."
Conchobar unrolled the scroll numbly. Garrett had been correct; the King of Reged was clear in stating that Reged and Kells's alliance was only strengthened after the war with Temra and that a marriage was not needed to interlink them. His son's place as a Mystic Knight ensured such a thing already. A marriage to Aisling would bring a union with the land as she possessed the same abilities as Garrett. In his place, Conchobar silently admitted, he would likely have done much the same thing.
The court was quiet when Conchobar raised his gaze. He looked to his daughter. There was a light in her eyes that he had not seen for some time.
No matter that Conchobar wanted to change things, there was no reason to – here was proof of a guaranteed alliance with Reged, and therefore, no need for a marriage to bind the kingdoms to each other.
"Then we share in your good news, Garrett," he said at last, extending a hand for the prince to shake. "A feast tonight perhaps, to celebrate."
"An excellent idea, my King," Conchobar nodded. "I shall inform the kitchens."
"And you are welcome in Kells also, Aisling," the King smiled at the girl. "Good wishes to you."
"Thank you."
Aisling bowed her head. She was not as pretty as Deirdre and did not appear to be as spirited. But if the scroll was correct then she could bring magic into the Reged bloodline, oh that would be desirable, and Garrett cared enough for her to speak of it.
The Mystic Knights gathered around their visitors and the King watched, deep in worried thought. Just who would his daughter marry now?
TBC
