Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

by Tanya Reed

Thanks to all of you that have been reviewing. I'm glad you are finding the story enjoyable. For those of you who asked about the wheres as well as the whens--to be honest, they were never meant to be really important to the story, so I don't remember them (I'm sure I have them written down somewhere, but I have no idea where my original copy of the story is), except forthe ones that are obvious (I wrote this story exactly six years ago.) I could guess, but my guess would be as good as yours. I hope that you continue to enjoy the story regardless.

Disclaimer: Once more, all Due South canon stuff belongs to Alliance.

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October 28, 1134

Her eyes. That's what it was. They were the color of newly turned earth, with flecks of goldenrod and hints of spring growth. He had never seen eyes like that, eyes that could wrap a man in sweet enchantment.

The first time he saw them, he was lost. He remembered it now, as the cool night air brushed his skin. Was it only three months ago? Could a person's life be so changed in such a short time?

Benton and his father had made the trip from their own kingdom to honor the newly crowned King Samuel. The ceremony had been boring for Prince Benton, who--despite his high birth--preferred the company of his horse and hounds and the trees to the intrigue of his father's court.

After the ceremony, Benton was led into the spacious ballroom. He noticed the daughters of various nobles eyeing him, but he was just uncomfortable and wanted to go home. His brother Stanley lapped up the attention, and after depositing several women on the blond prince's arm, Benton snuck away to sit in the corner.

He watched the festivities warily, noting that all princesses and ladies seemed to look alike. A slight frown furrowed his brow and disappeared. There were blonds, brunettes, and red heads; they came in all shapes and sizes. Benton couldn't figure out what it was that gave him the feeling of sameness. Stanley didn't seem to mind, as everytime he went by there was another woman in his arms.

Prince Benton was just trying to think of a way to excuse himself when he saw her. She came into the room gracefully, arm in arm with an older man. Benton barely saw him, he was too busy staring at the dark haired angel at the man's side. She was the picture of elegance. Her dress was blood red--she must be of quite high rank, he thought, to pull off that bold color--and the effect it made against her pale skin and raven hair was enchanting. Everything about her screamed lady, but Prince Benton had to give a soft smile. He believed she had a sun burn on her nose.

"Who is that?" Prince Benton turned to the minor earl who had taken refuge beside him.

"Who?...Oh, that's King Samuel's youngest daughter, Margaret. She does clean up rather well, doesn't she? They say she spends her days riding horses and practicing sword drills like a man. I'm sure that kind of foolishness will stop, though, as soon as she marries Duke Raymond."

Prince Benton absorbed the information and watched as the man at Princess Margaret's side was called away. He got to his feet confidently but, before he had even taken a step, nervousness and shyness overtook him. What could he say to that beautiful creature?

Quickly, before he lost his nerve, he moved across the floor and to her side. He gently cleared his throat, and she turned. Her beauty was even more amazing close up. Almost, he forgot how to speak. Dark eyes, flecked with green and gold, looked at him questioningly.

"Uh...um...hello...My name is Benton...Excuse me...Prince Benton. King Emerson is my father...You are...You are Princess Margaret?"

Her eyes swept over him and he hoped he passed inspection.

"Prince Benton, you do know I am engaged?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I didn't think one dance could hurt...um...What I mean to say is, would you like to dance?"

The princess gave him a soft smile, but he saw laughter sparkling in her eyes. She nodded and offered her hand to him.

As they came together, he noticed that she was petite but strong. Her hands were gentle, but there was a fierce wildness in her eyes. She, of all the women in the room, was unique.

"So...you are engaged?"

"Yes, to my father's friend. He's a nice man."

"When...?"

"A year from now. My father wishes me to wait until I am eighteen. It's a shame he's out of daughters, I'm sure he'd think you or your brother was a good catch."

Prince Benton reddened. "Father is looking for a suitable match for Stanley. He feels I am too young."

"Too young? You must be older than I."

"Nineteen last birthday, ma'am. May I say, you dance very lightly."

It was her turn to color and break eye contact. They danced in silence for awhile, Benton noticing that she had an enticing scent.

"Are you to be at the castle long?" Margaret asked eventually.

"My father plans on staying for about six months. He believes that a suitable match for my brother could be here."

"Well, Prince Stanley does seem to be looking."

Benton gave her an amused smile, just as the song was ending. He stepped away and bowed his most princely bow.

"It's been a pleasure, Princess Margaret. If, in the days to come, you find yourself without a companion, I would be glad to do the honors."

Her eyes sparkled once more as she curtsied and said, "I just may do that, Prince Benton."

That was all it took, Benton thought, pulling his mind back to the present and blowing on his fingers. Where was that girl? What if she had changed her mind? The thought of that turned his blood to ice. Marrying Raymond might actually be better for her. She would have everything she wanted, things she wouldn't have as a runaway. Benton knew that he was no prize and could see where Meggie might opt for stability. His heart begged her not to.

The months he had known her, his whole life had altered. Never before had he thought he could find someone who enjoyed the things that he did. Instead of complaining, like his parents, when he spent all day in the woods, she joined him. Since the ball, they had been constant companions, sharing in a way Benton thought he never could.

"Ben?" came a whisper, so soft he almost didn't hear it.

Benton peered through the trees. He couldn't see anything. "Meggie?"

There was sound then, the snapping of twigs, the brush of cloth against bark. He held his breath, waiting. When she appeared, he could not resist sweeping her into his arms and kissing her face and neck.

"Meggie, Meggie, you came!"

"Of course I came, you moron," she laughed. "I love you. Did you bring the horses?"

"Yes." Then, after a pause. "Are you sure about this, dearheart?"

"About what?"

Benton indicated the horses and himself with a hand. Margaret drew her brows together.

"How could I not be sure?"

"Think about what you're leaving behind," he said softly.

"But I'm gaining you. Your blue, blue eyes. Your kindness. Your generosity. Your gentleness. Your love. Oh, Ben, how can I weigh any of it against that?"

He reached out and stroked her face tenderly, hardly believing how his life had worked out. He had her, his Meggie, forever. The realization made his heart fill. Happiness made him grab her up again kissing her until they were both breathless. Before that moment, he had not believed that a level of happiness so profound was possible. Now he knew, and he knew that it was his every moment that he had her.