The flight to the Isle wasn't too long like a commercial flight, but it gave me just enough time to try and figure out what I had to do. Cuchuchulainn needed to die, there was no doubt in my mind about it. But how? If he lived this long? He's not an Asgardian, that I was sure of. So there has to be magic involved.
As Scotland came into view my stomach turned. It always did a few hours before combat, but in the minutes leading up to it the actual fight I was serene. It was better than meditation for me. But now I had to focus. Cuchuchulainn is a fearsome opponent, and I had no Idea what he had been up to for the last few centuries. I landed the War Machine suit and walked in to my castle. I would defeat Cuchuchulainn with my own hands.
I went to the old armory, where I still kept a variety of weapons and armor. I stepped out of the suit and went to the back, where I found my Asgardian armor. My face reflected back in my breast plate, adorned in Celtic knotting. I found my the kilt from Asgard, green and silver, put it on. I also found my leather war shirt. Armor was hot and heavy, but necessary. Next, I put my chain mail on, the chain mail skirt fit my hips tightly, just as it should, it covered my kilt. I pulled on my metal bracers and my gauntlets. I looked at my breast plate and took a deep breath, I took it off its form and put it on my body, latching it shut myself. I had left Strife in the Tower, so I picked up Loyalty. And placed her on my back. I grabbed a dirk and moved to my front gates, where I removed the great claymore from my back and planted it's tip into the ground. I stood with my feet shoulder width a part and my hands holding the hilt. This is how I would meet him.
That serene feeling washed over me. My hearing grew sharper, my vision too. I could feel adrenaline start to flow through out my body. He was here. I listened carefully, I could hear him walking up the gravel path, just as he had when he leapt across my rope bridge after swimming to the Isle all those years ago. I saw a form manifest through the fog, that rolled up from the sea and played around my ankles. And as the form got bigger I was stunned. I had forgotten how much Cuchuchulainn and the Wallace looked alike.
"Scathach, my Goddess. I wasn't sure you'd make it." He called in Gaelic. His accent more from Ireland, his place of birth than mine of Alba. I took a breath through my nose, the sea air filling me, then out through my mouth.
"Ye threaten the only family I have lef' Cuchuchulainn. I had no choice." I said, replying in the same language. "Bu' answer me this; ye were mortal te las' I saw o' ya. How is it tha' yer still alive?" He was less than ten feet from me now. He hadn't aged since the day of Aoife's death. He smiled, clearly he thought it was appropriate to wear his colors as well,he had no technology on him, and a great sword was sheathed to his back. He and the Wallace could have been brothers, the only difference, Cuchuchulainn had a scar that started in his hairline ran over his forehead, his eye and down his cheek and neck disappearing into the folds of his shirt. He wore no armor. He was always over confident and cocky.
"After Aoife's death,I vowed ta kill ye as well, fer the plague ya brough' on ta me. A man, with raven black hair an' icy blue eyes approached me no' a for'nigh' later, he gran'ed me immortality, so tha' I could finish me ques'." He answered.
"Wha' was the price?" I asked, knowing almost immediately who it was. Loki had given Cuchuchulainn immortality.
"He only asked tha' before I kill ye, I kill everyone ye ever loved. The Wallace, The Red Baron, an' soon the Captain." I smiled.
"Ye forge' my warrior, tha' I loved ye once too. Are ye ta fall upon yer blade before ye slaughter me as well?" I returned.
"Aye, perhaps. Bu' righ' now ye'll do asI say. If ye wan' the res' o' the Avengers to survive." He said. I ground my jaw. "If ye wan' te Avengers ta survive, ye will through down tha' sword there, ye will remove the dirk from yer belt. Ye will remove yer armor, an' then ye will lay down on the ground, with yer hands on yer head. Ye will do this slowly." I hesitated. "The men I work for can have the Avenger's killed righ' now as they lie asleep if ye like." That was the only push I needed. I set down Loyalty, across the gravel. I took off my gauntlets slowly as he instructed, but I tossed them at his feet rather than set them down.
"I know ye aren't challengin' me Scathach, don' be difficul' or I'll make this more enjoyable fer me, an' I can grantee tha' ye won' like it." I unlatched my breastplate and set in next to Loyalty. I pulled off the leather war shirt, and chain mail skirt, so that I was standing there in my kilt that brushed the ground, my knee high doc martens, and a plain black t-shirt.
"Arrange yer sword, plate an' mail like we used ta fer a fallen warrior." He demanded. I picked up Loyalty and stabbed her into the ground, placing my breast plate over the hilt, and folding my mail at the foot of it. "Now ge' onta the ground with yer hands on yer head." I lowered myself to the ground then put my hands on my head. Just as he asked. I heard him walk over to me and grab both my wrists in one hand, he pulled me up and put my arms to my back, where he kept them pinned.
"Aye this will be verra enjoyable fer me." He said in my ear, he pushed me ahead, and I knew that we were going to the old dungeon under the castle.