Elinor's eyes snapped open and she looked around the room. It was quiet, still. A candle sat on the table across from the bed, the flame dancing slightly in a breeze. The windows were still dark. Everything was as it should be, or almost.

Elinor rolled over and once again Fergus's side was empty, though it did appear as if it had been slept in. Her hand slowly rubbed the space where he would have been.

It's still warm. She thought, dreamily. Then it occurred to her that if it was still warm, he couldn't have been gone long. Leaping out of bed, she grabbed a robe and ran out the door. She rushed down the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Pulling open the outermost door, she ran to the stables.

Please be there. Please be there. Please be-

She reached the stables and opened the door. A figure was packing a bag on their horse's saddle. The stable was dark, but Elinor knew that it was Fergus. Even though Elinor was standing there with wild hair, in her sleeping clothes and bare feet, completely out of breath, he made no sound of recognition. He just tied the bag shut and turned away to the tack room.

Elinor walked nearer to him, trying to carefully pick her way on the floor.

"Fergus?" she asked gently, as if trying to wake him from sleep. He made no response. She tried again a little louder. "Fergus?"

He didn't answer, but continued to pack another bag. Elinor looked around and spotted a lantern on the wall. She quickly padded over and lit it, casting a warm glow around the stable.

"Fergus!" she said, loudly. He looked up from the bag he was packing on the floor, blinking a few times in the light. She hadn't seen him in over two weeks, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of him. His hair was completely wild, a few leaves had been caught in it, and he had let his beard grow out. He had scratches from branches all up and down his arms, but the hardest part to see was his eyes. They were gaunt and empty; the sparkle was gone, only anger remained.

Elinor gingerly stepped towards him, holding out her hand. "Fergus, please. Don't go." She knelt down in front of him and gently placed her hand over his on the bag. "Stay. Stay with me."

He stood up, shaking her hand off.

"This isn't right!" she said, turning and following him back towards the horse. "I had to bury Betha alone because you were out searching for some bear!"

He didn't turn around, but stopped packing for a moment. "I'll not rest while that monster lives."

"The only monster here, Fergus, is you." Elinor said, her voice cracking. Fergus spun around, a storm brewing in his eyes. "You have been consumed by this, and you are not the Fergus I knew."

"You don't understand." He said, pushing past her. But Elinor followed, tears making her voice thick and desperate.

"No, I don't understand! So please stay here and take the rest of our lives to explain to me how much I don't understand!" she shouted, following him back to the tack room. He didn't respond, but picked up the last few things and turned for the door. Elinor stood in the doorframe, her arms held out to block his way.

"Move." He said.

"No."

"Elinor-"

"NO! I will not let you go out there again! You're going to kill yourself if you continue like this!"

Fergus paused. "So be it then."

Elinor's hands dropped from the doorframe in shock and he took his chance to push past her again. She followed behind him and he mounted the horse.

Grabbing his knee, she made one final attempt.

"Fergus, please! Don't. I need you! I…I love you."

He stopped and looked at her. For a moment, Elinor could almost see the old Fergus return. He let go of the reigns with one hand and touched hers. But then he blinked and he was gone again.

"I can't…I have to."

He kicked the horse and cantered out of the stable. Elinor ran to the door and watched him gallop back towards the forest. A sob ripped out of her chest. She wondered if that would be the last she ever saw of him, but she quickly banished the thought as he disappeared from view.

Elinor sat at her desk, her hands folded primly in her lap. She stared at the closed ledger book in front of her. It seemed to stare back with an expectant expression. She sighed and rolled her neck. Some part of her knew that she needed to run through the numbers, but the bigger part of her simply wanted to go back to bed. Besides, returning to some state of normality felt like a betrayal of Betha…and of Fergus.

Her staring match was interrupted with a panicked knock on the door. Before she could even get up to answer, it was opened and one of the guards stepped in.

"Milady, I apologize." He stopped to swallow a breath. "But you must come to the great hall."

"Why? What's wrong?" Elinor asked, standing slowly.

"It's the clansmen." He said, opening the door the rest of the way and motioning for her to go.

Elinor walked quickly through the halls. Sounds of a very large and very angry crowd grew louder as she approached the great hall. She opened a side door and stepped into the room unnoticed. She was unnoticed mainly because everyone in the room was focusing all their attention and shouting at the dais. Sir Arran, the main advisor to Fergus, stood on the dais and tried to reason with the crowd. But his voice was drowned out by the deafening shouts of the crowd. His gaze swept across the room and landed on Elinor, standing by the side of the room looking unsure.

"Lady Elinor! Oh, thank the spirits!" he left the dais and went to her side, the crowd growing a little quieter but still maintaining a steady grumble.

"A guard said that something was happening here." She said, as he took her arm and dragged her up to the dais.

"Yes, yes. The clansmen have some grievances, but now that you're here things will be just fine." He said quietly to her when they stopped in front of the crowd. He winked reassuringly and turned towards the clansmen, raising two hands to quiet them. "As you can see, Lady DunBroch is here now, as you requested."

"We wanted Lord DunBroch!" a voice shouted from the middle of the crowd. Several agreed with him.

"Lord DunBroch cannot come right now. But-" Arran attempted, but that only angered the crowd.

"Why not!?"

"Where is he?!"

Arran turned back to Elinor, the questions repeated in his eyes. She swallowed hard and stepped forward, any rumbles in the crowd silencing as she did.

Elinor looked out over the crowd and willed her voice to be steady.

"Lor-Lord DunBroch is not here. I don't know what Sir Allan has told you," she glanced at him "But Lord DunBroch has not been in the castle for some time. He's been in the forest." Elinor pursed her lips and looked down.

"Doin' what?" a scoff came from the left side. Elinor's eyes flashed up.

"Avenging his mother's death!" she said, sharply. "Or had you all forgotten about that?"

The crowd was silent. Most people avoided Elinor's eyes, but one farmer in the front stepped forward.

"No, we haven't forgotten. We couldn't have forgotten the death of our beloved Lady. It's just…" he looked away but then straightened up, "Life has gone on, as much as it feels like it shouldn't. And we need our lord's help."

Elinor was stunned, but she slowly nodded.

"You're right." She looked out over the group of people, Fergus' people, her people, she knew what she had to do. "Lord DunBroch cannot help you now, so until his return, I will. With the help of Sir Arran, we will get through this." She looked to Sir Arran and turned and sat in her seat on the dais. "We will hear your grievances."

For a moment there was silence again, till everyone started shouting at once.

"Someone stole my horse!"

"My farm was raided!"

"The barley crop is infected!"

Elinor calmly held up a hand and waited, like she had seen her father do. The crowd grew quiet again.

"One at a time. And no shouting please."

In that afternoon, Elinor learned more about her new clan than she ever knew about her old. With the help of Sir Arran, they worked their way through the many varying problems of the group. Some were easy, some were impossible. When the last clansman left the great hall, Elinor slumped back in her chair and ran a hand over her face.

"You were magnificent, my lady." Sir Arran said.

"I don't feel very magnificent." She said, letting out a sigh. "How did Fergus do this every week?"

Sir Arran looked down and smiled a little. "I once asked him that myself, your ladyship, not long ago."

Elinor looked up. "What did he say?"

"He said that he did it for you."

The early morning fog hung over the forest. The sunrise was just beginning to turn the sky a soft purple. Fergus walked silently through the trees. His hand on was his sword in its sheath and every one of his senses was on high alert.

A birdcall echoed through the stillness. Fergus slowed his steps and listened. A large creature let out a deep breath and trundled through the over growth. It sounded like it was less than a stone's throw from where Fergus was standing.

Slowly, Fergus stepped out and met eyes with a large mother bear. Finally his weeks of hunting had paid off. He drew out his sword and the bear let out a low growl of warning. With a mighty roar, Fergus charged.