The wedding day was such a stressful and nerve-charged event that Fergus only remembered bits and pieces of it. He remembered Dirk waking him up that morning with a bucket of cold-water doused over his head, the rumble of all the clans from where he stood inside the castle. He remembered Elinor's entrance, and realizing that the handfasting ceremony was the first time that he had held her hand, or really touched her at all. She would glance up to him and quickly look away, but he couldn't see anyone else but her. At the end, he tied a strip of the DunBroch tartan cloth to a ribbon on her dress, signifying that she was now part of his clan. A loud cheer went up from the whole group, shaking the windows of the castle.

The feast was quickly laid out, Fergus and Elinor were seated next to each other at the high table. Their families sat to their immediate right and left. To Fergus, any progress that he had made with Elinor, which was small to begin with, seemed to have disappeared. She wouldn't look at him, or speak with him, just twisted her napkin nervously. Though he wasn't really sure what she had to be so nervous about, he wondered as he watched a group of small children chase each other about.

"Don't look so worried, my Lord!" a particularly drunk clansman shouted to him. "You'll have one of your own soon!" a few of his comrades cheered in agreement.

Oh.

Elinor blushed and tried to pretend like she didn't hear. But it had been on her mind ever since the ceremony had ended, and even before. She'd heard stories about what happened to girls on their wedding nights, and they weren't happy endings.

"Shall we dance, Lady Elinor?" Fergus asked her, holding out his hand. The tables were being cleared away, and the musicians prepping their instruments. It was tradition for the bride and groom to start the first reel. She tried to smile and took his hand, trying not to think about later.

The movement patterns were familiar and comforting; sashay, sashay, skip, twirl, weave and repeat. The reel grew larger and larger till it seemed almost everyone was dancing. Fergus proved to be an excellent partner, very light on his feet for his stature. All Elinor had to do was simply let go and let him lead. For a moment, as the song and dance reached their peak, everything seemed all right. She smiled as he spun her around, holding her hands.

But the song ended all too quickly and the fears swept back in. As the evening progressed, the dancing and joy grew as Elinor felt more and more dreadful. Finally it reached the time when she could reasonably excuse herself. She found Fergus sitting on a low stool, telling a lively story to an ever-growing group of children and adults alike.

"But the oldest prince wanted to rule the land for himself! He followed his own path and the kingdom…FELL to chaos and ruin!" he paused when he saw her standing nearby. The adults also noticed her and quickly scattered the children.

"You don't have to stop for my account." She said, watching the kids run off. "I was just going to say, I'm going to retire for the evening."

Fergus nodded, "Good night." He said quickly. She looked at him for a minute more, then turned for the stairs. Fergus watched her go.

"What are you doing?" Dirk asked, appearing by his side.

"What?"

"Do you want evil spirits to come into your household when she steps across the threshold?" he asked, looking at Fergus like he was mad.

"There's no such thing as evil spirits."

"I don't think you'll want to risk it, not with your luck." Dirk pushed Fergus to the stairs. "Go!"

Fergus ascended, hoping not to draw too much attention, but several whistles and cheers followed him as he disappeared into the upper hallway.

"Lady Elinor!" he called, just as she was opening the door.

"Yes, Fergus?" she said, looking alarmed. He approached and suddenly all the words got mixed up in his mind.

"Eh…evil spirits…in your feet…" Elinor stared at him for a moment and then it dawned on her.

"Oh, right. Thank you." She smiled a bit and stepped closer. Fergus swiftly picked her up, gently cradling her in his arms, and carried her into the room. He set her down and stepped away. The bed suddenly seemed very imposing to both of them.

She avoided looking at him and walked towards the table, taking off her rings and the circlet from her head. Her mother had made sure that some of Elinor's things had been moved to this room, so she was able to pull out her own comb. She sat down on the bench and began working through the knots that always formed whenever she wore her hair down.

"Do you want some help with that?" Fergus sat down next to her. Elinor turned to him and almost said no, but she slowly handed him the comb and turned away. As he ran the comb through her hair, he couldn't help but notice how soft it was. He was slow and methodical, but even still the hair was brushed much too soon for his preference. It lay straight down her back, shining in the firelight. He chuckled.

"I wish my hair looked like that when I combed it." He muttered, scratching his own scalp. Elinor looked up at his curly fiery locks and got a determined look in her eye.

"Comb, please." He handed it to her, a confused look on his face. She got up on her knees and began tugging the comb through his hair. He winced when she hit a snag, and tried not to notice how close she was to him. Eventually, she tied a leather strip around the ponytail she had pulled it back into.

"Well?" he struck a noble pose. Elinor chuckled, scrunched up her nose and reached around to pull out the strip, letting the hair free again. It was just as wild as it had been before.

"It didn't suit you." She explained, putting away the comb. She took off the decorative belt that had been a gift from her father, and the last thing remaining was her dress, which she realized she needed help with removing. "F-Fergus?" she asked quietly. He turned, his several belts off and already in a long nightshirt. She blushed and looked away. "Can I have your help untying me?" she asked.

He swallowed and nodded, approaching slowly. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and he delicately tugged at the ties of the first knot. The second and then the third came undone and Elinor held the dress up to her front. Quickly she was freed and Fergus retreated, looking away and giving her some modesty. She slipped out of the dress, leaving her in her small clothes, and quickly ducked under the covers of the bed.

Fergus sat on the bed tentatively, daring glances at where she was sitting with the covers pulled up to her chin.

"Well…eh…" he said, taking steadying breaths and scratching the back of his neck again. "Good night." He finished quickly, extinguishing the candle and lying with his back to her. Elinor looked at the back of his head for a while, feeling a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment.