A/N: Okay, so this SHOULD NOT have taken over a week to finish writing. Alas, both Macintosh lads and my creativity just…wouldn't talk to me. So I watched Brave again and forced them lol. Not too happy with this chapter, honestly, just because /I/ feel like it's rushed…but I think it's good overall.


To repeat everything she had seen in a letter to her mother was draining enough; to add her thoughts, concerns, and fears made her feel as though she had been up for several straight days. Evey wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep everything away. Alas, she couldn't for there was to be a dinner with the family's close friends – gods, she prayed that Annis wouldn't be there – and she couldn't miss that, sick or not. That would be something to the similarity of first impressions to her soon-to-be-people. To be ill would to suggest she wouldn't last in this life in Scotland.

And maybe that was what they, Vailean and the others, hoped for.

It made it easier to have a mistress when the wife was dead…what was wrong with her? What did Annis have to allure Vailean that Evey lacked? What did that mean when they married? Would Vailean leave Annis alone and be miserable with his English bride, or try to make it work? Or, worse, would he keep Annis close to him, humiliating her in public by making Annis practically his wife while he kept her, Evey Elward, in the shadows? It had happened in many courts before, French or English, after all.

Oh no…what if he rarely went to the same bed as Evey? The chances of creating an heir, the key part of the marriage, would be slim to none and then she'd be scorned and blamed. It would be her fault, all her fault for not being able to conceive even if it is Vailean who spends his time with the other woman. Women were always the scapegoat.

Would Lord Macintosh demand her sent back to English in disgrace if she couldn't product a grandson, even if he had to return the dowry? The very idea of Magnus glaring down at her in disapproval made her tremble and feel sick to her stomach. Did he know of his son's…friend? It struck her then. He couldn't possibly know about Annis for he was the sort of man who believed in one love, one woman. For his son to flaunt that…impossible.

Good…good, Evey had something on her betroth them. She didn't add it to the letter to her mother though since she suspected the Duchess would figure it out as well. For now, she dressed in her best gown and put on a modest silver necklace, pearls braided into her hair.

When she arrived at dinner, entering between the other men, she kept a smile on her face plastered there. Luckily with one quick glance Annis proved to be absent which allowed her smile to be more honest. Near Vailean stood his three friends while on the other side of Macintosh – for Evey was between the Macintosh males – stood a few other key people.

She gave small curtseys while they bowed in return, the five or six people that looked to be key in any decision making. Evey already knew she'd have to get them to like her or at least tolerate her just in case she ever needed to plan something with or without her husband's help. "Good evening, kind sirs. It is a pleasure to meet you all." While most of their names slipped in one ear and out the other, she figured she would just address them all with titles instead of names – for tonight.

The girl kept her back straight in the chair and ate only a few bites of each course, not speaking a word to her betroth who seemed more than content to take the same approach. There was no way he or his friends had noticed her spying earlier so this silence hurt a bit more than it should have. When the girl held her cup out for a second cup a wine in the middle of dinner – a first – Magnus paused in his roar of laughter to glance over.

"What's he to do but try and throw a fist – and right into a wall!" Another round of laughter erupted from the men around but this time Magnus didn't join.

Instead he leaned to his right and muttered softly from the corner of his lips while twirling his cup around, "The wine's a bit stronger here than in England, Lady."

"I know quite well it is." She hissed softly before taking a sip. Then the girl picked at her food, glancing at Vailean to see him enwrapped in the story being told. Ah, Magnus thought as he watched her eyes, so that was where the problem was. His son…and his lack of attention to the girl, apparently.

He knew Evey to be sensible so surely this…issue had been going on long enough. She wouldn't start drinking so much on such an empty stomach at just a night's avoidance. Macintosh tore his eyes away before trying to get back into the festive spirit of the meal.

A few men tore into legs of meat, talking during the bites more so than in between them. Try as he might though, no matter the words he heard or the claims of bravery that were shared, he simply couldn't get back into his earlier mood. It was only when he noticed a couple of his old and best fighters start to fight with makeshift swords of the bones did he feel that spark again. Ah, the excitement! The challenge! The stories and friends, the company!

"Ah, you can't even hold a 'sword'!" Macintosh called out.

The man he spoke to nearly lost his grip on the boat, laughing harshly. Humoring him, he shouted back, "Come, show us how to use a weapon then! Come, my Lord, come!" Magnus put his glass down and went to the center of the room, waving his hand so that his sword, not a bone, would fly into his grasp. Just like that, the clanking noise of swords clashing and Magnus' voice, shouting the instructions that Evey had heard ages ago, filled the air.

Despite the noise, however, one of Vailean's friends spoke up to the lad. Evey leaned to the side a bit to get a better earful. "Better work hard to make sure your son comes out handsome, Vailean!" Evey's back straightened, her grip on the cup tightening.

"Aye, I've heard the English put out a sour lookin' bunch!" A round of laughter followed. Her jaw locked as she gritted her teeth, staring straight ahead. Her head as swimming already from the wine, her thoughts a bit more harsh and less controlled. She longed to turn around and slap the two 'friends' who spoke, clearly thinking of that other girl for young Macintosh. Not only that, but she wanted to curl up with her sudden insecurity. Was she…unappealing?

As soon as she stood, almost slamming the drink down, the sword lesson stopped and all laughter paused. "Pardon me, m'lord, but I don't feel well. I think I'll retire early." She gave a small nod to men, ignoring her betroth, and stepped out without Macintosh excusing her.

Vailean flipped his hair and turned back to his friends, the noise starting back up again. "If you'll…excuse me." Magnus muttered something as he slipped his sword in its holder on his waist. He made way out of the dining hall and started to walk towards Evey's room; he knew her Ladies would help, but somehow…he just had to make sure she was alright.

Just as he was about to take a left, he paused and took the other path. Not long afterwards was the sound of a sword cutting through the air followed by a grunt. A female grunt. Now what would she be doing?

When he walked up a familiar tower, the one he had heard Evey singing in that one night, he heard the noise quite sharper. The man stepped into the room to see the girl twirl around, almost falling because of her dress – and the alcohol. In her hands was a sword and though he wasn't sure where she took it from, she was doing it all wrong. She did it out of anger though, the swiping of the sword, so of course she did it wrong.

Macintosh crossed his arms at first, leaning against the doorframe. He watched as the Duchess' daughter nearly slammed the sword into the wall – a nasty aftermath that would have been. Shaking his head, he decided to put a stop to this before she hurt herself badly. Yet as soon as she stepped forward, she swung wildly while twirling around.

Magnus barely had enough time to grab his own sword and bring it up to his face on instinct. The two weapons met loudly and both owner simply stared at each other. Slowly Evey's eyes widened until she dropped the sword, standing up straight once more. "M-my lord…I…it was an accident. I didn't…mean…"

Her eyes were bleary, her words a bit slurred. Even when she stood straight, she was off balance. He held up his hand to silence her, his face stern and his eyes almost cold. Evey started to shiver, not from the wind from the open window but from his almost harsh gaze. His scary stare. Macintosh leaned down and grabbed the sword she had dropped, placing it firmly in her hands.

At her confused stare, he ordered, "Again. Try to strike me again." When she didn't move, perhaps because she wasn't sure if she heard him right, he clanked his sword to hers and lowered his brows. "Try to hit me!"

With the near-shout, she jumped and moved into action. Finally she met resistance instead of swinging wildly around her, risking injury. Though Magnus wasn't trying to hit her, it didn't take much to deflect her attempted hits.

It was hard to judge the time and certainly impossible to keep score. Things were a harsh blur from then on, Evey moving and hitting his sword in a way to get rid of her frustration and anger. The young lady gave a loud cry, almost a battle cry, before she swiped at his feet. When she turned around, she stepped on her pretty dress and flew to one knee.

It was then that her sword crossed his but instead of moving to strike again, Macintosh knelt down with her. Her stomach churned and her head was pounding already. Her rage had been drained from her, leaving only…only sorrow. Her gaze had been locked on his chest, not truly looking but just staring as she was caught in her emotions. Evey leaned forward, her head almost against the crossed swords. Her hair had long since fallen from the normal braids, which had been done loosely that night to give her a gentle appearance, and curtained around her face.

Just like that her shoulders started to shake. Macintosh sat up straighter, uncomfortable at first. It was only when her first cry was heard, a strangled noise as she tried to inhale, did he react like he would have a decade ago when he was accustomed to female company.

He grabbed her sword and gently pried it from her fingers, tossing it aside before doing the same with his. The resounding thud and clank from the weapons hitting the stone floor almost hurt to hear, but somehow Evey's sobs, which came a bit freer, hurt worse to Macintosh. Not by his ears, but they pulled at his heart. All he had to do was wrap his arms around her shoulders before she fell against him. Like a brick wall he was, but she was grateful for it.

Evey couldn't scoot closer without her dress ripping so she merely curled into a ball, burying her face into his chest. She was hardly conscious of the fact that she was sobbing, that her eyes were burning, that she was gasping for air in between. All she knew was that she missed her mother. She missed her father. Her home. Her room. Her bed. Her friends. Her sense of security and safety.

And most of all…she missed the rain.

"Shh, lass, there…" he whispered gently, one hand rubbing circles on her back while the other had a mind of its own by means of running through her wind-blown hair. Evey didn't realize she had spoken those thoughts, voiced what she longed for. His chin was against her ear, his lips closer still. "It's natural to miss 'em, lass. It's alright…everyone gets homesick."

Why? Why wasn't she beautiful like that girl? Why did Vailean want her, a commoner, than herself, the daughter of a Duchess? A shy little thing…did Vailean not like bold women? Was that what was wrong with her? Perhaps her parents shouldn't have given her a Prince's education.

"What?!" Magnus snapped and suddenly pushed her to sit up and meet his gaze. "What did you say?" His eyes were wide as they were stunned, his lips parted.

The sudden movement and shift of her vision made her dizzy enough to fall backwards; she would have hit the ground had he not kept his arm around her. "Lass, what is this about Vailean wanting a…commoner?" Oh gods, had she spoken her thoughts without realizing it once more?

She shook her head, a fresh wave of tears escaping; a much needed release of tension. Her head fell forward to hide the tears, her cheeks red partly from the alcohol and exercise, but mostly from the shame of being seen this way. Macintosh grabbed her chin and nudged her up, using the pad of his thumb to rid them from her face as much as he could. "Let it out lass…come here." He would ask her about it later, another time when she wasn't such a wreck.

Evey scooted closer despite her dress threatening to rip, her arms around his waist as she made a pillow of him. She wasn't sure how much time had passed but slowly she stopped crying. Little hiccups escaped her here or there until sleep started to wrap around her. Her hair was matted against her cheek from the crying, perhaps even ruining his own beard from it since he was bent over her.

It was impossible to keep her eyes open by that time. She muttered something, some nonsense, her fingers curling into a fist as she curled against him. Just a moment of sleep…just…a…moment…

Magnus felt exhausted just from watching her. His hands had never stopped moving whether they were making a circle on her back or combing through her locks. The girl's sobs made him hold her tighter and the desire to make it stop, rid her of her pain, grow stronger.

She was out cold now. What was she talking about, a commoner? Beautiful? What had happened and why was he so out of the loop about it? As gentle as he could, he maneuvered her into his arms. Leaving the swords there, he made his way down the stairs and towards her bed.

Evey would be in hell with a hangover in the morning.


Preview: Will Macintosh learn of his son's crush? Then we have a time skip where we see something is terribly off with a servant and another noteworthy "gentleman" who is anything but gentle.