A/N: A birthday shout-out for this part to pussycatwithattitude, who is such a generous reader. I hope you enjoy this!
Part 3
John couldn't quite believe how refreshed he was feeling. Every night since the first they had come up here he had had a run of the most wonderful nights of sleep, virtually unbroken except for the turns he had taken in the early hours to see to Eleanor, but even their daughter, who had unfortunately taken after him when it came to sleeping, had found it much easier here. There was a lot that could be said for enjoying a good five to six restful hours. Not a lot to many, but a luxury to him. He often thought that it was his insomniac tendencies that made him well-placed to live the life of a servant, and he didn't complain about it much. But now he reasoned that he could quite get used to this.
He had found it much easier to sleep in the past few years, since Anna had lain at his side in their bed. A smile flew onto his face considering that for a long time the last thing that he had wanted to do in their bed was sleep. There was so much of her to know and discover, so many ways in which he could express his undying love for her. Even now he wasn't able to say that he had conveyed them all. The image was burned into his mind and his heart, of the way his wife looked when she was in the exquisite realms of pleasure that came from when they knew each other as only a husband and wife could. Her porcelain skin took on a beautiful pink flush, the skin that brushed her hairline glistened. Her breath would come in little gasps, increasing in frequency and sounding heavenly as she journeyed towards her end. Her rosebud lips puckered into a perfect circle and then a serene and sated smile would take over. She looked more gorgeous every single time, he felt as though he were a pauper made rich by the touch and love of a goddess.
Just as much, John was delighted to watch her sleep. She was a perfect angel when she slumbered, her hair seeming even more golden and appearing like her very own halo, flowing out around her on the pillow. Carefully, he would chart the gentle rise and fall of her chest, precious breath leaving her. The movement of her eyelashes as they delicately fluttered enchanted him, and he fascinated himself wondering what it was she was dreaming of. Sometimes she would snore very softly and he would tease her about the fact and she would blush deeply, though he thought the sound was simply adorable. More often she would moan and mumble as she turned onto her side, her arm meeting his middle. He could see her rosebud lips moving, shaping his name before it left her in a sigh. She would always smile in her sleep seconds after she said it and as the dark turned to dawn, his restless mind was soothed and his heart filled with peace and pride and overwhelming love for his wife; his wonderful Anna.
Anna was a deep sleeper anyway, but even more so up here. She wriggled and writhed within the sheets, drawing a hand over her eyes when the sunlight inched through the curtains each morning, burrowing herself deeper into the bed and his embrace. He couldn't resist her pleas for 'five more minutes', the mantra habitual to her from so many years even though they had all the time in the world for these few days. Each morning John pressed several kisses to her temples, humming as he felt her palm stroke aimlessly against the hair on his chest. As the light warmed the room they would gradually stir and be up before the usual hour when Eleanor became their alarm clock, and set about another day of adventuring around the Scottish landscape, each day bringing something new and irrevocably different from the last, but all of the experiences special in their own way; incredibly special as they shared them together, for themselves and not through anyone else. Though he had seen much of the scenes and sights many times before, in summers spent long ago, Anna's boundless enthusiasm made him consider everything through new eyes and he found himself amazed, able to see so much more now.
He was feeling especially invigorated this morning, in mind and body. As he stood by the window he was barely aware of the pain that typically convulsed in his knee at this hour that would make him grit his teeth sharply with its incessant throb, present even after Anna had tenderly massaged it before she rose from bed. He really had no idea what could have been the cause, though he wasn't going to complain about it. Perhaps it was a touch of magic, something to do with the fresh mountain air.
Through the morning mist he considered the mountains that loomed, his eyes instinctively picking out the highest point with its peak stretching it seemed even beyond the sky. He remembered vividly as a boy clambering from the bed at the crack of dawn at his grandmother's house, miles from here but where it was still visible. He would press his face and hands eagerly to the window before he ran like a bolt downstairs, gathering his explorer's supplies and exclaiming that today would be the day he would conquer the unconquerable summit, with enough time to spare to be back before supper. His mother would simply pat his head and shatter his dreams by saying that they had family to visit and errands to run; it would still be there after today after all, and for years he kept his solemn vow to climb it one day. He let out a chortle recalling his wide-eyed innocent wonder; if only he would have known about the other mountains he would have to scale, threatening to break him with how they impended.
The familiar ache reared up in remembrance, letting him know it was too good to be true. He wouldn't get round to fulfilling that childhood dream, but he couldn't say that he minded much now.
Years of memories and moments that he thought long forgotten began to teem and trickle through his head, and he smiled at almost every one. He tried to recall the last time he had been here before they had gone to Duneagle with the family. It was almost certainly before he had gone into service, perhaps the last summer he spent before he started as a footman. He must have barely been twenty. Until now he had not been aware of the longing to return, the many threads that tethered him here that had frayed a little at the edges but certainly had not been cut. Before he had given up trying to do anything that may gain her distracted attention, he had suggested to Vera that they take a trip, far away in the early days of their marriage. She had curled her lip and shrugged her shoulders with a heave, not interested in the slightest. She'd spent the best part of her life clawing her way out of what she called dull and boring country surroundings; why would she have wanted to swap the excitement and bustle of London to go back to that, even if it was only for the shortest of excursions?
Suppressing a shudder, John was incredibly pleased that he had never ventured here with Vera. As it was, everything remained unspoiled and absolutely perfect to share with Anna. As they spent their days touring, happening across landmarks and parts of his past that he wasn't ashamed of, Anna asked him about everything, her hand clasped around his arm, the excited smile gracing her face unlike any he had ever seen. She never got tired of wondering and he never got tired of telling her. Rubbing her wedding band between his fingers, he rejoiced inside as he knew this was always how it was meant to be. He couldn't have shared his fondest memories with anyone else, and he was beyond glad that he could give her as much bounty now to go some way to making up for the burdens he had placed upon her in times gone by. They strolled, and laughed, and kissed, and made many of their own memories.
He had been dressed for a little while, and was waiting patiently for Anna to get herself ready. Eleanor was amusing herself with her daydreams and as he swayed her in his arms, studying her thoughtful little features, he wondered what they were made up of. John laughed heartily as his daughter fixed him suddenly with a contemplative look, her button nose scrunching up, before it passed like a wisp of a cloud in a summer sky. Sitting her back down in the cot, being careful not to crease her pretty new dress too much, he took another glance out of the window before sitting down at the oak dressing table. The rush of the water could be heard splashing in the sink behind the door and John smiled as he heard Anna sing in a light tune, what she believed was just to herself, not knowing how much he relished and yearned to hear the sound each morning. There was not a thing about her that wasn't divine in its brilliance and yet so simply sweet in the sheer loveliness that she was.
Taking up the battered volume in his grasp, he let out a long breath. It was as though he had been taken back years, a melody floating through the air of the lassies singing tunefully while he was perched upon the hills, head buried amongst pages of words. They might have even been singing the ones he was reading, but he was too engrossed to notice at the time.
Since he was a child, Burns had been a mainstay in his life, there in times of joy and trouble with a verse that would hearten or otherwise relieve his heart of its anguish. When he had exhausted all the bedtime stories that his mother knew, his grandmother began to read Burns to him, passing it down from her father and his before him. To a Mouse was the most suitable at that young age, and he could still recite the verse by heart with all of its vibrant intonation and dialect. As he became an adolescent, he discovered the love poems, in their various forms, and found his appreciation deepened considerably as his eyes began to be opened to the world.
When everything seemed so uncertain in those early days at Downton, he would take out his copy of Burns to reassure himself of his proud heritage, of the man that he still was despite all of the slings and knocks life had taken delight in throwing at him. God knows he had read through all of the verses a million times or more, enough that he need not study them so closely, poring over each word as if it had only just been invented. Really, there was no need for him to have taken the book but he was unable to resist. Burns always seemed to read better, ring truer for him when he was read in Scotland and now he savoured every word with renewed vigour.
He looked upon one verse that had become so dear to him, engraved upon his heart.
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.
John choked a sob in his throat as he read, recalling how he had clung to the words in his darkest hour, when shadows hung over his head and came so close to extinguishing his life. They were the words that had spurred him to ignore the shouting of the guard and to fight back even in defeat. Her face before him, so beautiful and innocent; never asking for any of it but never shying away either, remaining so strong when she had every right to crumble and even walk away. It was with that verse echoing in his mind that he reached to cup her face, to let her unwavering strength envelop him and her love flow through his veins, the last bit of life he would have in his own coming from her. Her lips trembled before he captured them with such tenderness and then rising passion; the one fond kiss taken before they were to be severed, at least in body.
It had been one of the most wonderful kisses they had shared; a sign of their true love that could never be broken. He thanked God every day that it had not been their last.
"What are you reading now?"
He snapped the book shut on hearing her soft voice that had a little lilt in it, the weighty thud making a little puff in the air.
"Oh, nothing I haven't read before," he said, the smirk curving his lips before he turned his body around in the chair, gripping his hand against the back.
At that moment he was glad he was sitting down. Anna sauntered towards him, her damp hair slicked back but still unbelievably glossy. He was hypnotised at first by the swing of her tresses over her shoulder as she patted the ends with the towel, and then by the sashay of her hips – she must have been doing it purposely, the little minx – undulating against her rather flimsy slip. She liked to save dressing in her clothes until she was in view of him, delighting in the way he would stop whatever he was doing to watch. It always proved to be a rather tantalising experience, somehow just as erotic as when he shed her of her garments prior to an intimate encounter. Sometimes it was even more so, and it took all the willpower he could muster not to sweep her up and reverse the process swiftly.
She wore a delicious smile, obviously quite aware of what she was doing to him. The stirrings within him built, and when she began to rake her fingers languidly, separating her hair, he was nearly done for. He got to his feet quickly, and she let out a little laugh.
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever.
His heart beat with the wings of a thousand birds to behold her before him. It did not matter if she so much as walked out of the room and walked back in a moment later; he would always feel the same rush whenever he had sight of her.
John took up her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles before they rested just above where her wedding ring lay. Her skin was softer and still a little wet; when he was this close he could see the droplets of water that rested in the dip of her collarbone.
Anna sighed at his touch and then smiled up at him.
"So, where is it to be today?" she enquired, her hands bracing his body.
"I have a few things up my sleeve," he smiled as the fingers of one of her hands rose up fluidly, stating to unbutton said sleeve. Her touch was teasing, stroking back and forth, and John had to bite hard on his lip to quell the sensations that were rising.
Anna was closer now, having nestled against him almost unnoticeably; she was so dainty, she had the most terrific capacity to catch him by surprise. Her lips had capacities all of their own. They were tripping across his throat, honey and feather and fire all at once on his skin. This couldn't happen now, not when they were almost prepared to leave. Well, he supposed it could. The forecast seemed set for rain, he recalled; clouds were up ahead. Leaning forward he caught scent of her, the soap and hint of lavender cream. He could lose himself in everything about her, never to return. He had to take her delicately by the shoulders before he lost grip completely.
"Tell me about your ancestors," she was saying suddenly, "your Scottish blood. You never said all that much last time. Which isn't surprising."
She bit her lip and smirked with a look that was absolutely radiant, and it teased a wide grin out of him.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything." She nuzzled a kiss against his neck, warm and open mouthed. It was agony not to groan when he felt the softness of her tongue ghosting there.
"It'd take all day."
"We can spare the time."
He smiled as he took her hands from where they were looped around his shoulders, entwining them in his own.
"The Clan Keith was established in the 9th century, when they were granted the title of Marischal of Scotland," he tried to keep his voice as steady as he could while Anna continued her ministrations, making her way to his ear. "They were commended for their valour. Legend has it that the three red lines on the clan's coat of arms was the mark of a Scottish warrior, likely of the clan, slaying a Danish general in battle. King Malcolm II showed his appreciation by dipping his fingers into the blood and marking the warrior's shield."
"Mmmm," Anna hummed, her lips pressed to his skin. "They sound terribly brave and fearless."
"Well, they did engage in many battles. I'm not sure all of them were entirely noble." That seemed rather appropriate, given the places his thoughts were going now, which were not very dignified at all. A smile slowly formed on his lips as something else drifted remembered to him. "They did have a rather fitting motto, though. Veritas Vincit. 'Truth prevails'."
She pulled away, looking up at him with wide, impossibly blue eyes. He smiled reassuringly, rubbing her small fingers softly, taking away the pain that had crashed out of nowhere. She had been the one to prevail for them both; she was the strong one that kept them going.
Any tears that had sprung up were blinked away quickly. She was smiling back at him with so much love, and things he wasn't sure he would ever know.
Her body came closer to his and he had to gasp at how she felt, so very little separating him from her uncovered skin. What he could sense, her freshly washed skin mixed with the fine cotton of her slip, was almost too much to comprehend as she pressed ever more.
"I think you would have fitted right in," she breathed against him. "You are a brave warrior."
"I don't know about that."
"John Bates, listen to me."
He could never argue with her when she took that tone, and now he couldn't look away from her either, though he didn't want to.
She moistened her lips before she spoke again and the action drove him wild. Her palm was placed squarely upon his chest and she had that decisive, deep look burning in her eyes, one he was so familiar with now.
"You are brave, and fearless, and strong. My wonderful husband."
He sighed deeply, contentedly. He would never tire of being called that by her; it was what he was most proud of.
"You have conquered so much."
"Only because you have been at my side. If you hadn't…"
She placed a finger over his lips, making him shudder.
"Give your heritage some credit," a smile lit up her eyes. "No, I think your Scottish blood explains a lot." She had risen herself up now, a hand placed firm against his side, and he knew what was surely to follow. One look into her enticing eyes told him she was taking the lead, and he couldn't resist when that was the case. "It certainly explains why you're so passionate…"
He tugged upon her waist, utterly helpless by her charms.
"Come here," he was able to whisper before he levered her to his waiting lips. Meeting and matching her passion, he was possessed with a sudden urge to show her exactly what he was made of. His wife had no qualms, sighing into the kiss as it deepened, her hands flailing and then grasping at him. He supported her, hands caressing her as all thoughts of plans descended from his mind.
That was until a high-pitched squeal pierced the air.
They turned together to find Eleanor standing up in her cot, hands clapping. John and Anna smiled and then shared a little laugh before Anna went over to meet their daughter's outstretched arms.
"I think Madam here is waiting to explore," she beamed at their little girl, who was pointing into the distance, towards the snow-capped mountain.
Like father, like daughter, John thought.
The clouds had begun to dissipate and the wind died down the closer they got to the glen. Already the air was a different quality here, touched with freshness but a kind of natural wildness too that John enjoyed. Even though it was out in the country too, the air at Downton wasn't quite the same. He supposed nowhere was quite the same as here. He gulped in a lungful, raising his head to look towards the horizon. The path was getting a little rockier already, he could feel the loose stones under his feet. Swiftly his gaze turned to Anna and her steps. She was gripping Eleanor tight, shifting the little girl's weight around as she got restless in her arms.
"Let me walk with her for a little while," he offered, hooking his cane onto his arm in preparation to help settle their daughter down on the ground from her mother's hold.
"No John, it's fine," Anna's voice was a little breathless from the effort but still insistent. "She might trip and scrape herself on the stones. And we'd end up getting there sometime around midnight."
Eleanor seemed to want to get down and try the terrain herself, eager to prove that she was a big girl now and not a baby anymore. John reasoned that it probably wasn't the best place to practise her walking and inwardly cursed himself for not finding somewhere more suitable for their day out as well as not being able to carry his daughter, relieving his wife of the pressure. Familiar doubts crept up on him before he was aware and he felt even worse for allowing them to intrude now, of all times.
They soon flew away as he focused on their destination, very near in sight now. A sure smile rose on his face as his senses were becoming gradually invaded, the swish of the waterfalls sounding out, at once both calming and deeply exhilarating. He was becoming much better at letting his thoughts drift down and away from him now, cascading like the flow of clear water that tumbled.
It occurred to him with a touch of amusement that in this particular instance it was Anna who was the most worrisome about the outing. When he had first mentioned it to her, her face had scrunched in concern and she'd tried fervently to argue against going.
"She's not old enough for that yet," she'd said, only swayed a little by his charming, partly-hidden grin. "She won't understand about it all, and she'll only be disappointed when she can't see anything."
John sauntered over towards where Anna was standing, hands on her hips, failing to bite back a smile at how lovely she appeared when she was defiant and perhaps even a touch annoyed about something. She looked at him with cautious cerulean eyes, her gaze darkening as she followed his movements closely. He came so close to skirting by her, close enough that she could reach out to take hold of him. He felt a little wicked for shifting away with a swiftness, hearing her tutting quickly peter out when he took up their daughter, bouncing her in his large hands. Eleanor's giggles began to fill the room and he was doubly triumphant when the smile finally cracked on his wife's face.
There wasn't anything else that he needed to do to win her around, though he didn't mind trying his luck further if it should be required.
As their tandem steps began to slow to meet the incline, Anna began to voice her worries once more. John held out his hands signalling her to stop for a moment, so that he could move ahead a few paces, holding his hand out towards her to allow them to brace the dip together. She smiled as her dainty hand slid comfortably into his, his fingers giving hers a reassuring little squeeze.
"We won't venture that far," he assured, "There's a little space just down there, the pools are shallower and there are less rocks. The way is quite clear, and we'll still be able to enjoy the waterfall from there." He smiled as he watched their daughter's face, already aglow with anticipation. Letting go of Anna's hand for a moment, he reached to take Eleanor's tiny fist, rubbing the pads of his fingers over it gently while he bowed his head to her. "And I think we'll most certainly see lots of fairies. You know, this is one of their most favourite hiding places."
Eleanor made a little squeal of glee at her father's promise. Anna beamed down at their daughter, but still shook her head lightly.
"I still think she's too young to know what fairies really are. You may tell her stories about them but they go in one ear and out the other."
John raised his eyebrows. "I'm glad to know you think my storytelling is that enthralling."
"You know what I mean," Anna smiled, her eyes softening. "Of course she enjoys them in the moment, but she won't know of anything outside of that." She glanced back at Eleanor, whose eyes were shining towards her mother. "If a fairy fluttered itself on your shoulder right now, you wouldn't be in the least put out, would you, my darling?"
Eleanor grabbed fistfuls of the air, determined to catch one of the invisible creatures for herself. John laughed at her wonderment, combined with dogged determination.
"I think that's proof she knows perfectly well," he said confidently. "I was even younger when my grandmother told me tales about the creatures who lived in the Fairy Pools of Skye, and I recall them taking up in my dreams."
A ray of sun breaking through the clouded sky bathed Anna in the most beautiful light and once his breath was returned to him he couldn't help letting out a contented sigh. Yes, they'd most certainly always been in his most vivid dreams.
He took up Eleanor as Anna bent to unlace her boots, admiring the curve of her back, chuckling to himself when he wondered where she kept her wings hidden. He remembered tracing his fingers over the skin there again and again, letting her soft cries fill his head.
She rose up quickly, tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear. He would never get over how beautiful she was in such simple moments as this one, when it was not as if she was from another world but simply that the world belonged to her alone.
"Anyway," he began again, dipping Eleanor to wet her feet a little in the pool, "it's in her blood to recognise them. Seeing as her mother is one of their kind."
Anna curled her lips; this was something she'd heard too often, he knew, but it never failed to make either of them smile, even if in Anna's case it was in utter disbelief.
"Not all this again," she retorted, with lightness in her tone. John could see the glimmer about her even now, especially in this light, it falling and making magical patterns on the water that he had never seen so clear. "John Bates, for someone so sensible, you can have some very funny ideas."
The way she chided him with that playful gaze and delicate smile turned him almost inside out.
"It makes perfect sense."
John watched her hitch the waistband of her skirt higher before she tentatively sank her bare feet in the shallow pool. Passing their daughter into her arms as the little girl went quite happily, he rested against the bank to take off his shoes and then his socks, wiggling his toes to meet the cool air. He glanced up mid-action to see that Anna's eyes were keen upon him, and most specifically his ankles and the beginning of his shins that were dusted with fine hair, now exposed as he had rolled up his trousers. His lips curved as he caught her ogling him; there wasn't the slightest hint of embarrassment on her face.
"For one, you're just the right size for a fairy."
He meant it entirely lovingly; of course he would have adored her if she became ten feet tall and made him positively Lilliputian, but he had to confess having a particular fancy for just how petite she was. He loved having to lower his gaze to meet her sparkling eyes, and in turn how she would crane her head back to the skies to take him in, arching herself instinctively to make her way to his lips. It might have been the natural protective instinct emerging in him, but it was much more than that. Somehow she was the one who made him feel safer when she wrapped her slender arms around him, moulding herself to his broadness.
As he waded forth, the surprisingly warm water washing over his skin, he studied her.
"Every single feature about you," John stopped to take a breath, marvelling at the flawlessness of her complexion, the beautiful arch of her brow, the gilt of the golden waves that crowned her head, "is pure Seelie fey."
He laughed for a moment, seeing the puzzlement cover her features.
"It would also explain how you manage to get so much done in a day," his fingers brushed hers softly as they stood, even the gentle babbling at their backs fading to nothing. "There has to be some magic in it."
"Well, believe me, if it were down to magic, I should make it work to my advantage more often."
She laughed tunefully, her eyes flashing as he gently grasped her shoulder. Between them, Eleanor cooed, her little eyes darting about impatiently, one of her hands patting John's chest repeatedly. Anna sunk her feet down into the sand and her body just that bit deeper into her husband's touch, smiling serenely at him before she frowned again.
"I don't know if I should be charmed by this or offended," she stated, her hand sliding to the bone of his hip. "Aren't fairies terribly wicked creatures? Is that really how my husband sees me?"
Her fingers began to sweep at the waistband of his trousers, and he had to stifle a moan. He had the inclination to think she was very wicked indeed, when she teased him like this.
"Some may be, but not all. There are light fairies and dark fairies; here in Scotland, the Seelie and Unseelie fey hold court."
He always wondered whether he was perhaps running the risk of rambling when he began to recount the tales from his youth, the part of his childhood that wasn't quite as hard as the rest of it. But Anna let him go on, held in rapture.
Looking into her eyes, bigger and bluer than he'd possibly ever seen, there was no question as to which kind she was.
"The Seelie court are benevolent beings. They seek help from and befriend humans, returning kindness shown to them with favours and blessings of their own. They work happily and constructively with one another, only ever coming out at twilight."
That would be one disadvantage, he considered, not to behold all of Anna's charms in the daylight as he could now, her standing before him like the gates of heaven themselves. But he thought of the moonlight brushing her skin, thought of the way she had sighed and smiled at him under the cover of darkness on their first night as man and wife.
John smirked as he considered the other qualities that the fairies of this area were famed for.
"Yet they're not all sweetness and light. They can cause mischief and if they're provoked, they will avenge the insults thrown at them."
He was reminded of all of the times in the servants' hall, when underneath her beautiful exterior Anna could give as good as she got from Miss O'Brien or Thomas, more often than not outsmarting them. He ought to have been shocked the first time he heard her say such things, yet it had only made him grow fonder of her. Until he was much more than that.
"But they are not the kind for vengeance for the sake of it. To act against someone or something, there needs to have been a serious wrong committed."
He had not realised the meaning until he said it, and looking at the recognition spread across Anna's features his heart swelled until he thought it would surely fight to break free from his chest. They could think on it now without words or anger or tears, or even reasoning why. Still, they didn't forget about that time; they could not. It had been an almighty test but it had only made them stronger, as had everything before and anything else that would come.
The flood of love he currently felt for her was too much, and he dipped his head to brush a searing but sweet kiss against her cheek, their toes touching each other in the water.
"And there is the final fact," he uttered, breathing love against her and the proof of their love that she held with all the gentility of a natural-born mother. "That you completely enchanted me. And you still do. You will always do."
Anna was blushing faintly when he pulled back to look at her, her smile in that instant the most captivating thing he had ever seen. She was weaving her spell without even being aware.
"So, Eleanor, what do you think? Does that sound like Mummy?"
John asked his daughter the question sincerely, but she turned her head away from her mother's gaze, more interested in the flap of a passing butterfly's wings, following the flutter with keen interest.
"I suppose not," Anna chuckled, smoothing the wrinkles in Eleanor's dress.
"She just wants to see what she can find. Come on, my little love," John heaved Eleanor up, her blonde curls bouncing as her head turned about, "Shall we go and see if we can spot the rest of Mummy's relatives?"
The little girl nodded eagerly, her hands waving into the air.
"I'll go and sit on the bank to watch you both," Anna's gaze floated down to where the water was quickly rising up her skirt, the hem draping into the pool even though it was shallow. "I'll be soaked to my skin if I stay here much longer."
John flashed a smile before he headed further down with Eleanor, being extra careful of how he charted his steps with his daughter wriggling in his hands.
Though father and daughter roamed for a little while, their search was rather fruitless, aside from discovering a few types of insects. John remarked that it was because they were out far too early in the day and that they would need to stay until dusk descended, which caused an unimpressed glare from Anna. He laughed heartily, fixing Eleanor onto his lap as he sat down on the bank, placing an arm around his wife, both bathing their feet in the water below, occasionally brushing them against each other.
They might not have been able to remain there until the night-time but it was most certainly a peaceful place, somewhere that both of them could see was very special. Only a few yards away the waterfall cascaded before their eyes and John was soothed beyond compare, watching and listening to the gentle rush while feeling Anna's head nestling against the crook of his neck. Her hand met his as it was circled securely around their daughter's middle and she began to issue little caresses that made his heart sing. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling that when her touch became a mere ghosting that perhaps she had dozed off with the tranquillity of it all.
He was pleasantly surprised only a moment later when her head jerked upwards, her fingers grasping onto his forearm.
"I must be seeing things," she said in a reed of a voice. "John, did you see that too?"
"See what, my love?"
He followed her gaze into the shimmer of the waterfall, which seemed to have taken on a different aspect.
"I'm sure I saw a flicker there in the stream…no, it couldn't possibly have been."
John smiled into his wife's face, Eleanor craning around to behold what was happening too.
"See, Eleanor," he said softly, holding on to their little girl tight, "it takes one of their own kind to be able to spot them."
There was no sweeter sound to his ears than the sound of his daughter's cheerful laughter ringing out, except when it was accompanied by the equally delightful harmony of his wife's own giggling. John was blessed to have both surrounding him right now, in their cosy room at the inn, and he turned on his heels to witness the sight that would always melt his heart.
Eleanor was shuffling around and giggling, looking up at her mother as they both sat on the blanket on the floor. Anna had her legs curled underneath her, smiling with sheer joy as all of her attention and love was focused on their daughter who was just before her. They played patcake and various other games, Eleanor's interest never seeming to wane as Anna kept her amused. Every so often, the little girl stopped to take a tiny bite of one of the sandwiches that had been left cast aside, the remnants from their picnic that they'd had to come back and enjoy indoors when the weather had started to turn, casting rain down onto the Scottish countryside. Not even a sharp shower could have spoiled their day; not even the ache that had started to rise in John's knee, meaning that he had had to move some time ago from beside his girls, could have made the slightest bit of difference to the wonderful time they had spent as a family, not just this day but for the whole of their holiday.
They were a family. For so long it had been the two of them, his Anna by his side to lean on and to speak his cause to the world when he was certain nobody had been able to hear. He had never taken it for granted; they had waited for what had seemed like an eternity to be together, to be able to live as husband and wife and be free in their love for one another. It had been a dream dear to them both to have a family of their own, but after so much uncertainty and turmoil they had been more than happy to simply wait and see where life took them. He knew that Anna wanted a child of her own; she had cooed over Master George whenever she could get the chance when he was a small baby, often helping the nanny to care for him when Lady Mary had shown little interest at first. He would go as far as to say that he saw the instinct in her when she had cradled little Charlie in the servants' hall all those years ago. At the time it had made his heart ache, picturing Anna with a baby, knowing that he would most likely never play the role of father to the child.
It had taken a little longer than either of them expected, and for a little while John wondered whether they would ever be blessed with a child, though he had never voiced the thought to Anna. It would have made him hurt and grieve for a time but he truly believed, after all that it had taken him to do so, that as long as they had one another they could live most happily. The vows they had made to each other were eternal, and were the most important bonds that would keep them forever.
But she had arrived to bless their lives, in ways they may have foreseen and so many others they could not have imagined. The light of their life; their precious daughter. She was so much like Anna, even though he could see many of his own traits in her. Each day as she grew and smiled and shouted and laughed, it was a new revelation. He thanked God for her. Thanked God for them both.
His reverie was broken by a loud huff, and Anna had risen from the ground, stooping to scoop up a displeased Eleanor. As she walked towards where he was standing, he noticed the daisies that had been threaded into Anna's hair, smiling when he saw Eleanor twiddling one in her hand.
"What's all this?" he asked softly to Eleanor, who promptly hid behind her hands. John chuckled at the display, glancing towards Anna who was smiling with pursed lips. "Is she feeling tired?"
"She might be, but I think it's more likely that she wants some pudding," Anna ascertained, seeing her daughter's grumpy expression and trying to stifle her giggles at how adorable she looked. "Whatever was I thinking, a picnic without any cakes? That's no good at all."
"You think of enough already, taking care of us both," John smiled. "We shall never be able to express how lucky we are to have you, though we can certainly try. Isn't that right, Eleanor?"
The little girl shouted her agreement in a loud voice, and they both widened their eyes at how one so tiny could make such a racket.
"I can pop to the bakery at the end of the village. It's not too late, they may have some things left."
Anna was shaking her head, and John watched entranced as a couple of the flowers fell unnoticed.
"John, there's no need. She's being spoilt as it is, she needs to learn."
"We're on holiday, and not for much longer," he reminded her with a smile that was wistful for a mere moment. "I think that's reason enough for a treat. And if not, I'm sure Mrs MacLeod would be happy to rustle something up."
"We've asked far too much of her," Anna gasped. "She already said she would look after Eleanor on our last night. The poor woman is run off her feet."
"I think she rather enjoys it. She is from the same mould as Mrs Hughes."
Anna smiled, her lashes fluttering when John delicately picked the remaining flower from her hair. He grinned in return when she reached her hand up, and they shared a laugh. It was soon suspended when he captured her mouth softly with his, bracing his hands for a moment against her hips.
"You were beautiful today," he whispered to her before he took up his things, the little flower carefully placed in his fingers as he swept it back just above her ear. "Far more of a beauty than any fairy of legend."
She swatted her hand gently against his chest, her fingers lingering for a minute under his overcoat.
"You are perfect with her, you know. I never thought you could be any more perfect but then you had our daughter."
"Hush," Anna said quickly, fingers dabbing at her eyes.
John swept his thumb over her cheek. "Both of you are the most precious things. I don't tell you enough."
"That's because we know," she quickly responded, which brought forth a smile from him.
"Still, you shouldn't have to just know." He pressed a kiss against Eleanor's hair before he looked up at his beautiful wife again. "You complete my life."
Anna's eyes were full now, and she was not ashamed to let her joyful tears flow.
"And you ours."
Those three words could be answered with nothing other than a smile and a kiss, which lingered perhaps a little too long, but neither of them cared. Everything was so perfect here, but then it would always be, wherever he was with them.
The sweetness of her lips brought him back to his promise, and leaving her with one more kiss he headed for the door.
"Oh, just one thing?" Anna's voice resounded in his head, as if she was still attached to his lips.
"Yes, my darling?"
"Custard cakes. If there are any."
He grinned at the hopeful look on her face. He was more than happy to answer any request she had.
'Ae Fond Kiss' by Robert Burns.
All of the research about Clan Keith came from that ever trusty source, Wikipedia.
I found the information about the Seelie fairies on Tumblr; it was quite convenient that they were from Scottish folklore ;) The Fairy Pools of Skye (a real place) was actually my point of inspiration for this story.