Page 62 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“Did ye wish to–?”
“Was there something ye wanted to–?”
Both paused, mid-sentence, and Arthur awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah…ye go first, selkie.”
“Nay, that’s alright,” Olivia insisted. “I…I thought ye were trying to get me attention.”
“Ah…no. I wasnae.” Arthur paused, then hastily added afterward, “I mean, I wasnae, but, I noticed ye had no bow on yer back.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder, as if suddenly realizing it herself. “Oh. Aye; ye told me to bring it wit me if I was to go foraging.”
“Aye. Never ken what nasty thing lurks in the wilds.”
Olivia offered an agreeable smile, shifting her dress so she only needed to hold it up with one hand. Then, she made her way towards Airgiod, unhooking her shortbow and slipping it up and over her head. “Ah–do ye think ye can,”
“Aye, selkie.” Arthur moved to undo the fletcher from Airgiod’s saddle, securing it around Olivia’s chest and giving the cinch a good tug. He couldn’t help but stare at her bosom for a moment, memories of white petals and sweet darkness washing over him. Then, he straightened upright, sending Olivia off with a nod. “Dinnae linger long. I’d like to get riding again soon.”
Olivia nodded, then turned back into the nearby grove to continue her collection. Maesie gave her master a befuddled snort, then quickly trotted. As soon as she was well out of earshot, Arthur let out a groan, head thumping against the side of his horse’s saddle. Òr let out a startled snort, his long neck craning to shoot a stare his way.
“Och; ye dinnae understand, Òr.” Arthur sighed as he stroked the creature’s mane. He was certain a horse couldn’t hope to understand the complicated feelings he held inside of him. That moment, back within the grove, with Olivia in his arms and the world silently watching above them; Arthur never knew how painful desire could really be.
He wanted that moment to last forever–to be his forever–but even Olivia had realized it by now. That moment amidst therowans had to stay as such; nothing but a moment in time. One to remember, but never to be repeated.
Olivia kicked a stray rock off the forest path, watching as it bounced into the brush and vanished completely. A slight smile crossed her face as Maesie bounded after it, returning mere moments later with the stone between her teeth. “Ye shouldnae be putting those in yer mouth, ye silly girl.”
Maesie trotted proudly up to Olivia’s feet, dropping the stone as her tail wagged. Olivia rolled her eyes good-naturedly, giving the dog a full rub-down as she flopped onto her back, exposing her belly for the young woman to stroke. “If only yer master were as easy to interpret as ye are,” she mused aloud. “Feelings between folk can be so complicated, Maesie.”
Maesie yipped excitedly, rolling back onto her feet as she gave Olivia’s hand a lick.
“I bet ye’ve had lots of relationships by now,” Olivia chuckled. “And the pair o’ ye dinnae have to worry about what happened after. Just thinking about passing Arthur in the castle, or being forced to hold his hand and look longingly at him while his kinfolk are around…” she sighed, taking a seat on a fallen long as she propped her elbows against her knees, one underneath her chin while the other ensured her forageables didn’t slide off her dress. “If I’m lucky, maybe his council’ll never be convinced of our love. Maybe we’ll just…be trapped in this ruse forever?”
Maesie’s head cocked curiously, padding up beside Olivia before laying down at her feet. She looked upward, bright eyes sparkling with a level of concern Olivia had never seen in an animal before.
“Aye…that wouldnae be fair to either of us, would it?” As much as it hurt to admit, Arthur couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted most in the world. Spending time around Forrester, playing with little Rosie and the other children…Olivia was more certain than ever that motherhood was her next big adventure in life. “And Arthur…” She sighed far louder than before, wistfully staring through the tree’s canopy at the cloudless sky above. “Well…I’m sure ye ken his fate better than anyone, Maesie. He cannae give me what I need, and–and I should respect that.”
Maesie’s tongue lagged out of her mouth, then lapped against Olivia’s arm.
“Alright, alright!” Olivia giggled, petting the dog once more. “I’ll stop me moping fer now. Suppose we do have another day or so to ourselves.” Another day to play pretend, awkward as things may have been between them. With that, Olivia resolved to make the best of it, standing back up and shifting her dress of forageables. “Now, I’ve found lots o’ hazelnuts, but I’m certain some bilberries are around here, somewhere. Oh, and dandelions–ah, do ye think Rosie would enjoy learning about forageables, Maesie? Maybe if I learn the path to Marsden keep on me own,”
She paused, noticing how stiff Maesie’s posture was. The deerhound’s tail was still as a board, her gaze fixated aheadas the hairs on the hairs on the back of her neck stood upright. “Maesie?” Olivia tried taking a step towards the beast, only to stagger back as a terrifying snarl ripped free from the deerhound’s throat. Something sour grew in the pit of Olivia’s stomach, and she immediately dropped her dress, hazelnuts scattering across the forest floor. Quickly, her bow slipped into her hand, and she notched an arrow in the string, pointing it directly where Maesie had begun to grow.
“Wh-whatever’s there…” Olivia gritted her teeth, resolving to steady her voice as she repeated loudly, “Whatever’s there, ye best come out!” Every fiber of her being was on fire, and she fought to keep her bow from wobbling. More than anything, she hoped she was being paranoid. More than anything, she wanted a grouse to fly out from the brush, a fox to dart out from between the trees. She would even face down a massive stag, if given the choice. But the knot in her stomach only grew tighter with each passing second; she already knew what was going to step out from the shade.
And as a familiar man revealed himself at last, it took everything Olivia had not to collapse under the weight of her trembling legs.
32
Arthur barely registered the scream before his body moved on its own accord. He practically threw himself onto Òr’s back, kicking his heels into the beast’s side as the pair lunged into the brush. Òr snorted breathlessly, spurred on by the rising panic in Arthur’s chest. One hand grasped the horse’s reins, the other reaching toward the hilt of his sword. “Olivia!” He shouted out, bursting through the thicket before charging towards the first unfamiliar face he spotted.
The man had his axe held over Olivia’s splayed body, though it quickly fell behind him as his wrists were sliced through by Arthur’s sword. He let out a pained scream, cut off by a bloody gurgle as the sword pierced through his chest, next. Maesie’s snarling pulled Arthur’s attention next, bounding between the small group of men and shearing their ankles as they tried to catch her with the blunt or blade of their weapons. She even managed to take one to the ground, snapping into his neck as her muzzle dyed with blood.
Arthur pulled on Òr’s reins, directing the horse to circle around Olivia as he held his sword aloft. The few remaining warriors exchanged nervous looks, with one daring to hold up his sword and charge forward. “Maesie, release!”
A snarling howl followed after, Maesie abandoning her gasping victim before lunging at the approaching warrior’s ankle. He screamed out as her teeth clamped down, and with a furious shake of her head, he toppled to the ground, neck exposed for Maesie to exploit. His companion reared back to slam his axe into the deerhound, but Arthur’s sword got there first, catching between the weapon’s head and twisting it out from the warrior’s grasp. A sickening squelch followed after, the man’s head rolling across the forest floor, and Arthur quickly turned back to Olivia.
She had managed to stand with Òr’s help, trembling arms wrapped around the stallion’s neck for support. Her bow was abandoned a few feet away, string snapped and visible nicks taken out from its frame. Someone had managed to reach her with a weapon; Arthur’s anger boiled over as he stabbed his sword into Maesie’s victim, limbs trembling before going deathly still.
The forest fell eerily quiet, the occasional sound of a warrior’s final breath breaking through. Maesie’s snarling had quieted to low, throaty growls, and Arthur offered her a reassuring pat on the head. “Good girl, Maesie. Return.”
