Chapter 2.

MacLeod spent a restless night in a hotel. At first blush, nothing extraordinary had happened; Duncan himself had enough places in the world that held significant memories for him, and Methos was a little bit older, to say the least. But nevertheless MacLeod felt worried. Maybe because he'd just realized one more time how little he knew about Methos' past.

When MacLeod saw Jessica, coming out from the arrival hall, his anxiety rose twice. He'd never seen her like this, even during their first meeting, in the aftermath of her husband's death, she was more… alive.

They exchanged brief greetings and set out almost immediately. Duncan was trying to find an appropriate phrase to begin a conversation, but Jessica spoke first.
"Have you seen the stone?"
"Yes." And since he couldn't simply confirm anything, he just described it and mentioned the spring.
"Aye. It's really Glanlyn."
"Your home?" he dared to ask after a while. Better to keep her talking.
"Yeah. I was raised there, later I became its priestess…"
"And Methos?"
"He appeared one day, seeking shelter from the storm…"

Glanlyn (somewhere in Dyfed, Wales), circa 590 AD

Aye, there was definitely an improvement. Their handwriting was still far from perfect, but at least now it was possible to distinguish one rune from another. Oh, the rainy days – perfect time for learning. Naturally, boys preferred to train with sword and not with stylus, but they knew better than to argue with the Lady.

Gwenllian was the Lady of Glanlyn' sanctuary for more than 20 years. Of course, now it wasn't the same. When she was a girl, Glanlyn was a large and a famous town, attended by lords and kings, and now it was just a small village with the sanctuary. Hidden in the woods, aside from main roads. But nowadays, when wars tore Britain, to stay hidden was safer.

Seeing her distraction, the boys began whispering; Gwenllian smiled. One thing remained constant in Glanlyn' sanctuary – it still was a home for unwanted children. Children like she once was; and now she became a mother for them.
"My lady", Delyth, her oldest and, to be honest, favorite girl came into the study. "There is a traveler at the gate, he is asking for a shelter. He is rather strange, I should say."
"Well, let's see. Keep trying, boys, I'll return and check."
An unmistakable sensation froze Gwenllian on her way to the gate. The strange guest was Immortal. Actually, she wasn't frightened – half of the village was on holy ground. Besides, in this weather even Immortals would dream only about a warm room, dry bed and hot wine. And an Immortal traveler might prove to be a very interesting person to talk with. So when Gwenllian entered the anteroom, it was curiosity she felt most.

The guest looked like a Roman, and a noble one, despite the filthy and wet clothes. His eyes were cautious, but without fear.
"I'm Gwenllian of Dyfed, and this is holy ground."
He bowed.
"I mean no harm, my lady. My name is Methos and I'm a simple traveler, looking for a shelter."
"You are welcome, till you respect the Gods of this place."
"I'll be no trouble, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality."
"Delyth, please, show our guest a room he can stay in."
"Yes, my lady."

Present day

They'd finally arrived; the fallen tree served as a sign. Macleod got out of the car and opened the door for Jessica, offering her his hand.
"Come," he said gently. "I'll show you the path."
Jessica inhaled deeply, like before the dive, and left the car.

____

Methos spent the night sitting on the ground, half dreaming, half remembering. In daylight he thoroughly searched the area in fruitless attempt of finding anything else, but found nothing. The Glanlyn stone and the Enfys spring – it was all that was left from a place which was once his home…

Glanlyn, circa 590 AD

So the Lady of Glanlyn was Immortal. Unexpected news, but rather good than bad. While they were on Holy Ground, there were no risk of a challenge; besides, Gwenllian surely wanted it as little as he did. On the other hand, an Immortal hostess meant that he didn't have to pretend either Briton or Saxon or Roman and so on, didn't have to invent a plausible legend, trying to choose a race and a religion correctly. Bless the holy ground Rule, the Immortals were one of the most tolerant races in the world, when it came to religion. Funny thought, isn't it?

Initially he was going to stay for a week or so, till the weather would improve; but soon he found a very strong reason to stay longer. The reason was called Delyth. Delyth… Black hair, shining eyes… When she smiled, it made one forget about the rains and winds. Aye, Methos was definitely in love. And that was marvelous. He'd almost forgotten how inspiring this feeling was… He was sure that Delyth liked him; but it was obvious that without Gwenllian's blessing she wouldn't give him a single kiss.

Well, usually he was good at impressing mothers. He'd just never tried to impress an Immortal one. But what's the problem? It'll be interesting to do, at least something for the first time.

___

Present day

Jessica followed MacLeod on the path, but when they felt an Immortal Presence, he let her go first. The Old Man was standing on the clearing between them and the stone, shielding it from their sight. Duncan stayed among the trees, Jessica came close to Methos. For what seemed like an eternity they just looked into each others eyes, then Methos laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, saying something in a language which could be an old Welsh dialect. Jessica buried her face in his chest; he hugged her briefly and then stepped aside, so she finally saw the stone.

MacLeod suddenly felt grateful that he couldn't see her face at the moment. Jessica took several more steps, and then stopped again; Methos went past MacLeod, silently grabbing his sleeve, and took him away from the clearing.