Author's Note: Marie here with the much-anticipated seventh chapter! I noticed that one reviewer said that there wasn't much detail in the last chapter. Well, as you can see, with Lindsey's help, I have rectified that problem. This chapter is mostly funny and fluffy. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Sadly, neither I nor Lindsey can claim LOTD. That belongs to the genius that is Michael Flately.

Warlords

The man behind her presented Saoirse with a deep red long-stemmed rose. She smiled.

"I think that was a pretty good job of 'putting yourself out there'," Ceol told her, his lips inches from her ear. She could hardly breathe.

"Thank you." She smiled, and she took the rose in one hand. He got in front of her, beckoning her to the side. She began to walk, with Ceol walking backwards. He whistled as they rotated, him walking forwards, then he gave a low, playful growl.

"But now it's our turn." Ceol addressed his men, clapping several times. His men snapped to attention, and then he tapped several times, telling them to begin. As they started up, he walked to Saoirse again.

"This is called our Warlord's drill. And this practice is for you, Saoirse." He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, and she giggled. The men formed a rectangle with three lines, and Ceol strutted in front of them, acting almost like a coach as he encouraged them in their moves. He walked over to Saoirse, giving her a kiss on the neck as she laughed, putting her arm around his neck. He returned the hug, then walked to the front of his men as they rotated in place, and slowly formed a shape, from the front looked like a W.

"W?" asked Firinne, a Lady Dancer next to Saoirse. Saoirse nodded.

"For Warlords," she whispered. First he walked to the side, then did a very fun sequence of clicking moves, causing the men to act like human metronomes. He walked to the front of the men and began to dance, an arm straight, pointing towards Saoirse, then he danced the other direction, almost like a madman having the time of his life.

Oh, you're dancing for me. If only it was with me! Saoirse sighed, smelling the rose and not taking her eyes off him as he danced with his men, at this point his accented taps causing them to snap at attention and dance with him. Then he performed some small solos with some clicks, and they would reply. After a few of these, they were counting in Gaelic. As the men danced, Ceol began crawling towards Saoirse, playfully trying to bite the rose out of her hand. He ran back to his men and danced, with replies from them. Ceol pointed in several directions at times, setting off harmless explosions, creating accents as the men formed a line, each one of them raising their arms as they made it to the line. Once they were all in place, Ceol in front, they began to speed up, Ceol grinning at Saoirse for approval as smoke began to come off their feet.

"Hey!" they all shouted at once, giving an invisible audience a death-like stare, throwing their arms to their sides. Ceol kept them at attention, and with a pounding heart turned to his right.

And Saoirse was gone.

The wooden floor he was standing one slowly melted into grass again, his proud stance going with it.

"You're dismissed." he said, almost too soft to hear.

"Are you alright, sir?" one asked.

"I'm fine. You may go," Ceol sighed, and the men went back to camp, probably hoping to find those girls. But Ceol had other plans for him and John, as he found his overly-flirtatious friend talking to one of the Lady Dancers.

"Hey, pretty thing. Did I mention you are the-Ahhhhh!" Ceol grabbed his friend by the ear, dragging him away.

"Come on! Five more minutes!" John pleaded.

"No," Ceol replied. "I want to get there before the sun sets, so we don't get lost." John protested all the way there, with some very colorful Gaelic, now being held by the collar.

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Saoirse slipped back into the woods, searching for her dress, in hopes to repair it. Well, that's the excuse she gave Firinne, her best friend. Secretly, she was looking for Ceol. As she approached the clearing, she only saw one man, one of Ceol's Warlords.

"Have you seen Lord Ceol?" she asked. The man shook his head. "He left a while ago. He did seem pretty sad, though." Then he walked away, leaving Saoirse alone.

Stupid! Why did you leave? she thought. That was a balbh move on your part. A golden opportunity, wasted! Just before turning away, she saw a glint in the fading sun. Walking closer, she found a sliver rose. It was beautiful. As she touched it, it slowly transformed itself into a small tiara, one made for a dancer. And there was a note, addressed to her. She picked it up, puzzled, and read it.

You are the one that will cause this rose to melt, Saoirse. Just like you caused my croi to with your beauty.

Ceol.

Thinking for a moment on the word in Gaelic, she gasped.

"I make his...his...heart...melt." she whispered, "With my beauty." She was almost shaking with joy. She silently scooped the tiara up with care, wrapped it and the note in her dress, and walked on air back to camp to sleep.

Take that, Morrighan. She smiled as she fell asleep, the note under her pillow.