Teagan awoke in his room in Redcliffe. He remembered the trip vaguely. The nightmares and hallucinations of opium withdrawal were terrifying. His dreams of her had turned from beautiful to tortured. She was a succubus that was sapping his vigor and sanity. The time between deliriums was hardly better. He suffered bodily from withdrawals. His head constantly throbbed, his muscles ached, his body seemed to reject food. He begged his brother to bring him more of the opium, but he refused. Eamon did give him a little brandy from time to time, not enough to silence the pain but it helped sedate him a little.

The girl was there sometimes too. He scarcely saw her and could not recall her name. She tried to feed him. Other times she wiped his face with a cold, damp cloth. He did his best to ignore her. Sometimes she talked to him about a new foal, or a hunt for a stag. He could barely make sense of her conversation.

After the worst of the withdrawal symptoms he was sleep deprived, anxious and foul-tempered. He snapped at Eamon and the girl, Sorcha - he finally remembered her name - and the servants were afraid of him. At night he could sleep only a few hours and he would awaken feeling his breath coming quickly, his heart pounding, a panic for no reason he could name.

Finally one day he was feeling well enough to leave his room. He found Eamon in his study writing a letter. He sat down in his brother's study and said nothing.

"Teagan," his brother broke the silence, "how are you feeling?"

Teagan shook his head, unable to tell his brother he felt empty. Even his dreams of her were gone now.

"This obsession, Teagan," Eamon shook his head, sighing, "you can't continue like this."

Teagan didn't know his brother had found the paintings. "Obsession?" he queried. He might as well see what he knew.

"With Wisteria. I found the paintings in your studio. Teagan..." Eamon was afraid to probe too hard, "you have to let this go. You are neglecting your responsibilities and this is destroying you. It must stop or someone else will have to take over in Rainesfere."

Teagan sighed, he was ashamed of himself that his brother knew the depths he had sunken to. "I will try, brother," he said with no real conviction in his voice.

Eamon straightened, ignoring the despondency from his brother. "Good. Then tomorrow you can come with me. I need to visit a few farmers to discuss crop yields." He peered at his brother, "Are you well enough to ride a little?"

Teagan shrugged. "Probably."

"Get some rest then and I will see you in the morning." Eamon dismissed his brother who was glad to escape the uncomfortable questioning.


Sorcha knew she was being paraded in front of Teagan, like cheese in front of a mouse. She was flattered, in a way. She was not a noble so for Eamon to consider her worthy of his brother was probably a compliment. Still, she would rather kiss her horse than Teagan. He just looked so cadaverous. And the man was moody and foul-tempered. No wonder he was unmarried at his age.

She got busy getting their horses ready, Eamon and Teagan were waiting for her, standing nearby watching her, talking to one another about soil erosion and sheep overgrazing. She ignored them for the most part, horses were far more interesting.

After the horses were ready she went over to check on the new foal. It was a beautiful red colt with a black mane. She and the colt had bonded and sometimes she went out into the meadow and they chased one another around, both playing like colts. Eamon had even let her name him; she named him Seamus.

The three led their horses out of the stable and mounted up to go to see Ivan, the farmer having issues with crop yields. Sorcha noticed that even for being a man ill so recently Teagan was a fine rider. His thighs, although thin, were strong as she could see in his snug fitting riding breeches. He sat the trot perfectly, something she struggled with, he absorbed the bumpy gait somewhere in his mid-section. Even though he wasn't familiar with this mount, it responded to him well. She could not help herself from watching him ride, trying to learn from him.

Teagan caught her looking at him and wondered why she was watching him so closely. Noble hunter, no doubt. Still she kept to herself, not engaging him in frivolous conversation, and her manner of dress; wearing well-worn, masculine riding clothes seemed to belie the typical fortune-hunter. Her hair, too, was uncoiffured, the disordered russet mass of curls was held back in a loose pony tail. Perhaps he was mistaken.


Eamon saw Teagan recovering. His face was filling out again, he looked less gaunt, more like the man he remembered. But he was still so silent and withdrawn. He was a man who had his dreams ripped away for his own good. Eamon kept him busy and he took every opportunity to put Sorcha in his path.

"Ser," Sorcha told him one day, "Striker has pulled up lame. I think we should have the veterinarian look at him."

"Get Teagan, Sorcha, he's quite good at treating the horses," Eamon suggested, "He's in his room I think."

Sorcha shrugged and went off to find Teagan, hoping he wasn't going to bite her head off today. She found him staring vacantly at a book. He did look much better these days. His face was still a little gaunt but his clothes didn't fall off him now. One could even call him rather handsome, if one noticed those sorts of things and she prided herself on not noticing.

"Ser, Striker is lame. Arl Eamon sent me to fetch you to have a look at him," she said.

Teagan looked up from the book he was staring at and sighed, "Very well, lets look at him." He accompanied Sorcha to the stable and walked Striker around. He was limping, favoring his right front leg. He picked up the foot and pressed on his hoof. It was difficult to see but there was a small stone wedged in his hoof.

"Sorcha, look at this." He showed her the stone. "Get me the hoof pick." He gently pried out the stone. The horse was still limping so he felt around for any hot spots that might indicate an abscess. "It's probably just bruised in there. Don't let anyone ride him until he has stopped limping." He showed her how to check for cracks and hot spots and other abnormalities of the hoof. She watched him with interest, asking questions that showed her interest in the topic. As they discussed hoof related topics, the colt came up behind her and bumped her in the backside with his head, sending her sprawling on the stable floor.

"Seamus!" she scolded the colt and got up, her pants dusty and covered in bits of straw. The colt butted her in the backside again, nosing her pants with interest. He lipped her back pocket.

Teagan laughed at the colt. "Did you put something in your back pocket he wants?"

"Oh! I forgot," she said laughing. She reached in her pocket and took out a few apple slices. The colt snorfled them greedily. "Come on, Seamus, back to the pasture, you dolt." She walked out of the stable and the colt followed her. Teagan followed too. The colt really seemed fond of the young woman. He watched them walk to the pasture and the colt followed her right in. He kicked up his heels and ran in that wild way colts do, then he turned suddenly and charged her. She ran away from him and bumped her in the back with his nose, then he turned and ran and she chased him. They played tag until she was too exhausted to run anymore.

Teagan leaned on the fence and smiled for the first time in a long time. Sorcha walked over to him, her hair was escaping the ties she used to keep it out of her face and it made her look even messier and wild. He noticed for the first time how dark brown her eyes were. They were warm when she smiled. When he thought about it, he couldn't remember her smiling before. She was a serious lass.

"Does Eamon have a course set up?" Teagan asked.

"For jumping?" She asked.

Teagan nodded.

She shook her head, "I don't think he even has any fences."

"Do you jump?" Teagan asked.

"A little, usually just enough to get by when hunting," she said.

"Ah, so you hunt?" Teagan's interest was piqued.

"Yes, I love to. I'm a fair shot with a bow."

"Perhaps we should do a little hunting..." Teagan suggested.

Sorcha nodded enthusiastically. Finally, something I like to do! She was happy Isolde was gone. She watched the colt run around for awhile then turned and watched Teagan walking back to the main hall. He was definitely filling out his breeches much better. Not that she noticed...