Good morning, good afternoon or whatever time you will read this.
My native language is not English, so please excuse my poor grammar or use of words.

Pairing: Scotland x France

Rating: M

Genre: Fantasy

Disclaimer: France and Scotland belong to Europe, Francis Bonnefoy belongs to Himaruya and Alasdair Iain Kirkland (Scotland) belongs to a user in pixiv. I'll name him this way in this story… Everyone gives him another name.. *le shrug*

_

Francis lightly squeezed the hand he was holding, that belonged to his lover sitting next to him.
"…'n' this is how come ah don't regret that Arthur haes gaen awa' noo. Ah juist wonder whit he is daein' noo. Whit he aims fur."
"Yeah, I'd be curious for that too. I wouldn't be surprised though if he would just pursuit your aim and makes a race out of it. The First one to reach the king is the winner, you see? And then he could say that you wasted your time with a homeless fool like me."
"Yer nae a homeless gowk? nae anymore… mah hame shall be yer hame. Ah micht be a wanderer, bit eventually, ah wull bade somewhere someday."
"I am happy that I can look forward to that.", Francis pulled up the hand and kissed the back of it. Not shortly after he received a peck on the cheek.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound was heard through the air and the mountain range they had been sitting on for a while shuddered. The earth was shaking beneath their feet. The noise was also too loud to even make out something else but the scream of the soil.
Then, in the distant sky, a snake-like head was to be seen. It was part of a giant snake that had been sleeping on this mountain range. Where the snake had been, a gap was now and the snake moved towards the village on the foot of the mountain, ready to crush it.

The couple somehow made it down the mountain, more falling and tumbling than running really.
In the meanwhile, the snake was eating people. Snatching after them, picking them up with their mouth and swallowing in whole.
Alasdair and Francis ran after it. The aura of the snake resembled the aura the rat had been giving out. Certainly a magical monster. Usually, animals wouldn't grow that big. The mercenaries failed as they tried to get the better of the reptilian monster. It obviously was too strong. And the just decimated group of mercenaries became even smaller.

Then, Alasdair had an idea and used the old utterings his mother had taught him when he had been little. Back then she had said that this was magic and they were able to use it, when they believed strongly into it. After all, he had been trying to attack the snake with his sword. And even though the sword was heavy and sharp, not even a scratch had been left through the hard scales.
Only a miracle would do the trick now.

Suddenly, the snake stopped to eat what it had in its mouth and dropped it. It turned around and faced Alasdair. Francis became scared. His sword had left scratches, but only faintly.
The snake hissed and opened its mouth largely. Before anyone could react, the snake had closed its mouth just there where Alasdair had been standing.

"You damn beast!", Francis cried and slashed at the Snake. This couldn't be! Alasdair was not supposed to be dying now!
The snake made a weird noise that somewhat resembled contentment. Apparently it had eaten enough.

But then, the Snake stopped moving and looked at its 'belly'. When you know where a snake had its belly, that is.
However, the snake then got cracks everywhere in between the scales and finally broke free to reveal some survivors as well as a few other things that could no longer be identified. The gooey and bloody mess was all over the village. All of the houses were covered practically in the snake's shit. The main colour of it was the colour of rich soil: an almost black brown. Later on, people also said that this soil would be rather fertile.

"…Al..asdair?", Francis whispered, believing that the last meal of the snake had caused this miracle.
"Aye?", a dark person covered over and over in mud stepped out of the remains of the snake and towards Francis who was just as covered in dirt.
"Alas…are you alright?"
"Ah wis aff tae ask ye th' identical thing."
"Ehh? It was you being swallowed by that giant snake!"
"Ah hardly clocked anythin'.", instead, Alasdair started to wipe Francis' face clean like you would do so with a young child. But since his sleeves were full of dirt themselves, it didn't really help.
It made Francis sneeze and Alasdair started to laugh.
He hugged the blonde tightly.
And those that noticed that nothing serious had happened, joined into their laughter. Especially because everything and everyone looked so funny.

Of course it meant a lot of work. Some of the houses were damaged due to the snake waltzing down there, smashing everything. But the people had survived the snake's eating, since snakes usually digest their food very slow once it has reached the belly.

"Whin ah wis ben, ah juist slashed th' inner walls. Ootside th' scales seemed toughter than stane, bit ben th' snake wis gey soft."
The mercenaries were helping the people of the village repairing the houses and also to get the dirt down there. They had simply planned to put all of the snake's remains on a square field far away from the village as they regarded it as miraculous and maybe even toxic. They didn't know how to analyse it and before it would cause any further harm it was better far off from the village.
The people were happy to use carts.
Of course, Alasdair and Francis helped them. Alasdair even used his sword for a shovel, as tools and everything was rather limited in the village. Usually not this many people lived and worked there either.
But it was great fun. Even though the villagers didn't have much to share, they shared what they could.
It would be painful for both once the mercenaries had to continue their path. But that was going to come rather late. When the mercenaries wanted to continue their march, it had started to become autumn. It became rapidly cold. Nothing unusual, just highly annoying since the mercenaries always had to sleep in their tents that hardly kept any of the warmth.

"Are you serious you want to continue the path to the king?", Francis asked the leader of the mercenaries with a tilt of his head. "It will be too hard. Especially for the veterans."
"Na yin asked thaim tae come. Ah said thay shuid be staying hame lest time.", Alasdair was going to say that those old men had been busy wiping Francis' tears back then so he had not been wanting to leave them behind. Instead he just snorted. "…i hae talked tae th' village elders 'n' thay said there's a toun nearby. Certainly larger, sae thay kin gies a proper hame 'n' we kin an' a' buy hings. Th' villagers 'ere barely hud enough tae sloch fur themselves. If we bade 'ere, we maist likely murdurr thaim."
"…I didn't know that.", Francis softly said.
Alasdair gave him a mild glare, then turned away. "Tell th' ithers tae git duin."

Francis obeyed and told the others. It was basically a snowball system. One person told five other, and those five told five each (making it 25), and so on. Soon, the mercenaries were ready on their horses to leave the village. Some had to even share their horses when they had decided to leave their horse as workhorse at the village.

Francis rode in the back of the convoy again like he was used to. After half an hour after they had gotten going, a gap unfolded before the Frenchman, Alasdair had dropped to the back.
"Urr ye mad or something? yer steid is in th' front neist tae me."
"Eh? .. Uhm.. and what if something happens to the rear?", the blonde frowned. He felt like his place was here. Besides that he had the impression that Alasdair was angry with him. He didn't want to sort that out right now.
"Stoap arguing wi' me. A'm yer commander 'n' ye hae tae obey me. Noo come."
The sentence possibly hurt more than it should. What had started out as an honour seemed now like a burden. Francis followed his commander to the front after letting out a deep but hidden sigh. Just what had he gotten himself into? He had taken the redhead for a sweet and nice person, but now he was glaring at him every now and then and then also giving him orders in that tone of voice.

When they rode together in the front, Alasdair talked to the blonde seldom but received short replies. He wondered what was wrong. At the same time he had to pay attention to his convoy and thought about what to do next. And then his eyes were fixed on the map. The larger town he had been promised was nowhere in sight whereas from the map it should be right in front of them already. And it was going to be night again soon.
Irritated, the redhead looked over to the sad Frenchman. "Hey… kin ye read a map?"
The only reason why he didn't toss the map was because he didn't want it to go with the wind.
"I don't know, I never…", Francis looked at the map. "…nevermind."

It took the blonde a while to decipher the map. But it seemed familiar. He frowned deeply. "How did you hold the map?"
"Lik' sae."
"…Well, that's… the opposite direction. There's north… you can see that on where the sun is standing.", Francis pointed to the sky. "We went the wrong way."
The redhead facepalmed. And worse! They were not going to reach that place before sunset. Alasdair cursed inwardly. "This is how come yer steid is in th' front noo! quick, we hae tae alter th' route oor convoy is heading."

The convoy made a U turn and soon they got the other direction, now heading for the town for sure. First a murmur went through there, but Francis tried to calm them down, promised them a nice resting place if they just pulled through.
The night was going to be an ice cold one. The soil was already crispy and the breath of the horses and the people turned to steam upon leaving mouth or nose. The sun was now setting rapidly in the eyes of the leader.
Francis noticed that and at first he was thinking that it served the redhead right for being so rude lately. But after a while he thought further and came to the conclusion that it would be of no help to create panic among the group. "…Alasdair, pull yourself together.", he hissed.
The redhead just looked at him with big green eyes.
"Have you never been through a thing like this? Your own country is cold too."
"Ah ken, bit it's mah fault we git lost. It shuid hae ne'er happened."
"Things like those happen all the time. You can't avoid mistakes in your life. Now straighten up and show that you are the leader.", the blonde thought for a time. "How about we all sing songs from your homeland? I know there are wolves here everywhere. We might scare them off."
Alasdair just looked at him and processed what he had heard.

After a while a rather creepy tune was heard among the men. Then it got louder and clearer after a while. It was the song of a man who fought for his loved one. The familiarity of the song gave the men some mental strength, the strength to carry on.
After the first song passed, someone asked if he could wish for a song. Sure, next song was played by the 'merry men of the Celtic lands'.
Francis even found they were rather professional. He liked their tune. Someone even brought out an instrument.

"Dae ye ken ony songs, Franny?", Alasdair now looked all but scared.
"Non. I don't remember anything."
"Bit ye stairted tae mind yer hame leid. Ye speak mair french wurds than fae th' time we met ye foremaist."
"Hm… true. I don't even notice that. But you're right, the words come just like that."

The night became older and the songs fewer. At some point, the songs repeated themselves. They were still happy songs nonetheless. Everyone was singing until they didn't have a voice anymore. They took turns, they did their best until the sun arose again in the distant east.
"This is where the air is the most chilly.", Francis commented, pulling the coat closer around his figure. It was still Alasdair's coat he was wearing. The redhead himself had gotten a different one in the meantime. Most of the Celtic Mercenaries but weren't suited really for winter.
Little snowflakes started to fall.

"It's tae earlie fur that …", lamented Alasdair. He wondered what to do next. The town was still not in sight and most possibly there would be no access. When the town was in wilderness, there would possibly be a wall around it and then the main gate closed at night.
"We just have to push through… There won't be a night like this again.", Francis promised. "Will you ride in the back? Especially in a time like this we might lose people. And I don't want that. I will lead the right way."
Alasdair gave Francis a strange look. Then he nodded and obeyed, letting himself fall into the back of the convoy.

Perhaps it was strange that the latest member lead the convoy and the leader was in the back, securing that no one would get lost. But it was the best way to do, since Francis obviously could read a map and Alasdair knew who belonged to his band of mercenaries and who didn't.
Alas, the town came faintly in sight when the sun had risen a little further.
Francis already relaxed a little at the sight and cried the news towards the other people who passed it on to the next person in line.