Sorry for the lack in updates. I've been trying to make this chapter superlative, and it's taken a while. I hope you enjoy it.
Veronica-I'm glad! Sorry it's taken so long to update…
chiefhow-Be happy! Big MRC chapter below. Taidhg should and will die. I promise
lindalee4-You're comparing me to Satan? Cool…man, I'm Marilyn Manson (shudder). Yes, someone will be castrated, but I can't say anymore just now…Ealusaid is going to develop a lot more after Leofwen's death. She needs to become the eldest sister, which she's been doing unconsciously until now. P.S Does Walt Disney realise he is responsible for many childhood phobias?
the original coda-Yeah, I really like Dreamtheater mainly because of the lyrics. You have the best job ever, do you realise that? I would love to spend all day working with music…
Camreyn-For once, someone gave a longer review than you? Quick, nurse the screens! I would like to poke Lancelot, but only so I could kiss him better (Sorry, I'm ill and I've just written 2,000 words of MRC. Forgive me…)
band-geek-Oh yeah, I like giving my characters grief, but only so I can get them out of it. Sorry this update was slow in coming.
Katie Moore-I'm writing another book, The 1001 Ways to Kill Taidhg with as much Blood and Gore as Possible. Would you like to read it?
MonDieu666-Of course! I firmly believe that if one hundred writers take one idea, they can come up with one hundred different stories. I'm loving A New Way of Life by the way
BillieLiv-Ahh, thank you! Seriously, don't take any crap from ignorant people (naming no names coughStarboxcough). You are a great writer and anyone with a brain cell can see that.
A little point I should have made clearer…Camreyn asked me how Bhriain got control over the Woads so easily. It's all worked into this chapter. Hope that clears it up for everyone.
Another little note from me…and this time it's a sorry.
OK?
Here goes
I'm really, really sorry. For a lot of things, but here's the most pressing one. I'm a Wiccan, and at Mabon, the autumnal equinox, we give thanks for all of our blessings. One of mine is you guys who review my stories even though their not always the best, or well punctuated etc. etc. The point is, you guys mean a lot to me. Every review makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside (or as close as my black, shrivelled heart can get to warm and fuzzy. I'm sorry (again) I digress). My last chapters haven't been my best work, and I think that you are picking up on that. So I'm going to try and work really hard to make Seonaid's story top quality. OK? I just want to let you know that I really am sorry for the stuff I make you read.
Am I forgiven?
OK, ego now suitably deflated, onto the story. It's very symbolic and stuff, so bear with me, because I can write more battle and angst scenes in the second part, as well as MRC. Onto the story…
XIV: The Dance of Eternity
Love is the Dance of Eternity
A hawk hovered over the forest, almost lazily. They were by no means an uncommon sight in the forest, but this was special. It was seeking something…or someone.
Aibhilín lay against a tree. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but she wasn't too worried about that. What she was worried about was the fact that something was happening to her that she couldn't stop. She willed her head to stop spinning and herself to relax. She was sure that something was happening to her, but the whole thing was spinning around her head. She felt as though all control she had had was now gone.
A sudden bird call broke through the silence of the woods. Aibhilín jumped a little, and turned her face to the sun. The hawk hovered, almost preserved in the air. It dived and Aibhilín's body tensed instinctively. However, it landed easily and gracefully near to her. Aibhilín opened her hand cautiously, a little worried about the sharp talons and wickedly curved beak, but it landed gently in her palm. She stroked the chestnut brown and reddish plumage gently, her finger coming to rest on a rough brush of parchment. She removed it with sensitive fingers from its twine binding. She smiled as she spelled out the runes of her own name. She tilted her airy face to the still pale sky.
"Thank you" she whispered into the air. She brought her head back, but even that small action made her head spin. She forced herself to wait and be patient, but eventually just concentrated on the note, despite the waves of pain that rolled across her head.
Aibhilín it began
Can you wait? If you can survive until the night of the new moon, meet us on the edge of the forest. We will save you.
It was unsigned, but Aibhilín knew who it was from. She curled her hands about her stomach. "Thank you" she said again, but she managed to allow so much gratefulness seep into the words, they were drowning themselves in her mouth. She lay back, feeling faint and tired. She closed her eyes and slept lightly and fitfully, trying to forget the hell-hole of a life she was stuck in. Thank goodness there was some light left though. She gave the hawk one small stroke of its glossy plumage and then, using a stick, etched a single rune onto the back of the barkleaf parchment. Carefully tying it around the hawk's sinewy leg, she watched it fly away, leaving her with a precious gift; hope.
Aibhilín survived by leaving the camp each morning and only returning in the evening to make sure that Bhriain didn't come looking for her. She had harboured a faint hope that some of the Woads might still be loyal to her and Dauídh but it quickly died. Many of the Woads had tired of Dauídh's pacifism and reliance on spiritual quests to guide the tribe. Bhriain, with his belief of plain fighting and ruling with the head over the heart, had seemed very seductive to many of the Woads. There was no-one left here who could help her. Every night she left her martial bed and went into the woods, seeking solace, to remember that bit of hope, and clutch at it with both hands.
As it happened, she never made it to the edge of the forest on the night of the new moon. She snuck out, as usual and went to her usual clearing. She was exhausted, and had to make herself lean against her oak before she fainted. She closed her eyes, to avert the hammers of pain in her head and felt a hand on her shoulder. She reacted as she would have done normally in the situation, which was jump up, draw a sword or bow and confront the intruders. As it was, she jumped up and was hit by a sudden stabbing pain to her head and a clenching hand at her stomach. If these people were unfriendly, she would be dead by now. As it was, a nearly identical face to hers could be seen, as well as a similar, yet fairer one with grey eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Aibhilín asked. She was grateful, so grateful to see her sisters and know that they were there, but her terror and surprise won over those emotions. "Bhriain will kill you!"
"I know. So we're not staying" Ealusaid informed her. Aibhilín looked haggard and worn, her skin even paler against her tumbling waterfall of her raven hair. She was wearing a strangely loose tunic that drowned her and made her frailness even more apparent, but she was still Aibhilín. She was alive and she was going to survive if Ealusaid had anything to do with it. Ealusaid helped her up, and she was merely bones and little else.
"Are you ill?" Guinevere asked her older sister concernedly.
"How long have I been here?" Aibhilín asked, avoiding the question which only added to Ealusaid's worry.
"Not yet a month. I am truly sorry that we took so long, but we were worried. We could not risk open warfare"
Aibhilín nodded. "I know. I am grateful just for knowing that I will be leaving this place soon"
Aibhilín's hope was a welcome change from her previous despair. Elated, Ealusaid hugged Aibhilín deeply. Her eyes widened a little in surprise. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked.
Aibhilín smiled and nodded.
"And…who's?" Guinevere asked, trying to use tact (which was a bit of a novelty for her).
"Who do you think?" Aibhilín asked her.
Guinevere embraced her sister, and Aibhilín embraced her back. Ealusaid broke it up though.
"We must move. There will be a lot of trouble when you are discovered missing"
Aibhilín nodded and allowed her sisters to escort and walk with her through the forest.
He saw her coming. She was beautiful, radiant even. Something had changed about her…Lancelot could see that the woman he loved was different, but she was nonetheless Aibhilín. Her green eyes glittered and sparkled with a faint flash of the incredible, powerful woman he had fallen in love with.
Aibhilín smiled at him, a slip of a smile, but a true smile. She turned to her sisters. "You had a very good plan. You thought of everything"
"Oh, he came by himself. Even Ealusaid's threats of pointed things and sensitive objects wouldn't have kept him away." Guinevere replied.
Aibhilín smiled. Ealusaid appeared to be channelling Leofwen's spirit. She walked over, ending up in a run towards her lover. She hugged him tightly, and her greatest secret was revealed. The loose tunic concealed a secret, and as she hugged him, he could feel it.
"You're pregnant?" he asked incredulously.
Aibhilín's hand immediately went to the small lump that contained her growing child. She studied his face intently, and searched for a sign of emotion besides surprise.
Ealusaid also watched. As the eldest sister, she felt that all the burdens on her sisters' shoulders also fell on her shoulders. She knew that they loved each other, but sometimes she wondered if love was enough. After all, Rossa had loved Leofwen, and that was not enough to save her. All she did was hope and pray.
Lancelot's face held a clear question. After all, Aibhilín had been married to another man. He hated himself for doubting her, but he had to wonder. Aibhilín saw his face and she leaned into him.
"I would have died before I let Taidhg touch me. You know that" she whispered.
She kissed him, knowing that her fate would be decided with that kiss. Luckily for her, Lancelot returned that kiss with as much fire as she gave it, and with as much fire as created life within Aibhilín.
She knew that she was blessed, for at that moment she understood everything about life. She could feel the balance between love and hate, peace and war, life and death. She could feel the deep ties to the earth and to the sky strengthen. She was power and life itself, radiating outwards to shower everyone else in her light.
Death, deceit and love. Death, deceit and love. Death, deceit and love. Death, deceit and love. Death, deceit and love….
Death, deceit and love. The three dances that determined fate. Those three words revolved around Aibhilín's head. They had all come full circle. The ouroboros. The snake that bites its own tail to keep the cyclical nature of life moving.
Aibhilín pulled away and turned to her sisters. "Have we got a plan? When dawn comes up, I have to be away from here"
"What would happen if you stayed in the fort?" Guinevere suggested. "Everyone there would not betray you"
"It's too risky. I could never forgive myself for bringing war upon Arthur. He's got enough to deal with"
"Where then?" Ealusaid said slightly despairingly. She did her best to conceal it, but the people who had known her all of their lives understood what she meant. "Where is there that is far away enough?"
There was a pause as everyone there thought.
"How do you feel about Sarmatia?" Lancelot asked Aibhilín.
"Sarmatia!" Guinevere said.
"Well, you wanted far away…" Aibhilín said with a hint of a smile curling about her lips.
Aibhilín smiled. "You've waited fifteen years to go there, I think I can cope with that"
Aibhilín mounted the horse, with Lancelot just behind her. She let one hand extend out to her sisters.
"I'll be back" she told them. "This was the land I was born in. I cannot leave it for too long"
Her fingertips brushed against Ealusaid and Guinevere's palms. They said nothing else, but they were all together. Something was powerful and it was surrounding the sisters. The last of Dauídh's daughters, the last of the traditional Woads and the last of the truly powerful women. The women who were independent, could defend themselves and never needed men. Except…the ones who they fell in love with. They could defend themselves from all manner of weapons, pike, spear, sword, but the arrow that flew through the air could plant a seed in a heart. This was what made them great warriors; the fact that they could also love and heal. That was what put them on the line between the Romans and the Woads, and elevated them higher than either sect.
She looked at her two surviving sisters. So much had changed. Ealusaid's face was more compassionate, if possible, even more loving. She had managed to become the truest Woad of all and yet still live and fight alongside Sarmatian knights. She was open, non-judgemental and still the one of two of the best older sisters Aibhilín had ever had. For eighteen years, she had been an older sister herself, and as Guinevere had pointed out to her before, she had made a poor job of it. She was glad that she had Ealusaid, as a role model, a security blanket and a friend.
Guinevere had changed the most. She had gone from dependant baby to defiant maiden to a woman in love. She had not always been the easiest to live with, but Aibhilín always loved her. She had always been her sister, and she was now the person whom Aibhilín could truly depend on. She had always and would always be there for Aibhilín. Right now, she hated watching her sister and her unborn niece or nephew ride away from her, but she knew in her heart that this was right.
The biggest change of all was that Leofwen was gone. She had died saving Lancelot's body and Aibhilín's heart. She adored her sister, and even now, she knew that she was watching over them. Maybe her spirit would find a new home inside Aibhilín's child.
And of course, she had changed. She had loved and lost and lived again. She was now in the most beautiful and incredible stage of a woman's life. He was with the man she loved and she was with child. There are no words to sum that up.
Without knowing it, her gift of Imbas fire left her that day. She did not need it, and one day, her child would. It was freedom from the visions that had plagued her for eighteen years. This whole time was utter freedom for her. Freedom from tyranny, freedom from control, freedom from every negative thing in her life. She felt this inside her and it only added to her happiness
Aibhilín let herself be wrapped in Lancelot's arms, as the jolting motion of the horse carried her from one destiny to another.
"Wherever you go, I go" she whispered. She had never thought it was possible to go from the most miserable you have ever been to a state of exquisite bliss. She held onto the moment, and took it with her. She was finally leaving the blackness of the night and stepping into the dawn of another day.
Aibhilín's story ends here.
Finally! An MRC chapter! The end of the first part! This calls for a celebration (pulls out a carton of ice cream). A sundae for everyone who has reviewed The Sword and The Bow! Esp. Camreyn, who has reviewed every chapter so far! Sorry again, I've had a crap day, and am inclined to get hyper. It's my way of coping (sniff). Ego now re-inflated! Hurray!
I'm aware that the dates don't actually add up from the kid's conception to Aibhilín actually showing, but hey? It's medieval times. And, if anyone DARES to complain, especially if you were one of the people complaining about the absence of MRC, I will simply stop writing MRC…empty threat, I couldn't stop writing MRC for all the world.
Seonaid's story will take longer to update. I'm pushy it back to every three or four days because I'm so busy. Sorry!
Please review and pull me out of depression and illness! (If that won't motivate you, I don't know what will! (Sorry for my really bad humour. Please don't hurt me…)
A/N. Right, as you can see I've deleted the beginning chapters of Seonaid's story. It's only because in my own critical opinion, it sucked. I hated the plot and that's why I haven't updated in over a month. I'm incredibly sorry for all of the bother. So, the Sword and the Bow ends here, and I may write a prequel to it all, because the main thing I hated about Seonaid's story was that there was no Leofwen. So, I will keep writing, but fir the last two months I've started an original novel called Belladonna, and it currently stands at 53,000 words! I have not abandoned , but it will be tricky for me to update. Anyway, KA comes out in England tomorrow, so hell, I'll actually be able to write the actual dialogue. Hehehehe...