Deepest Betrayal

Fuel to the Flame

Duncan was indeed pacing back and forth. He was tired, he was hungry, and if he admitted it to himself sore from the ride. He could have easily rode in the carriage with Blair, certainly, but he wanted to provide her with what little privacy he could as all eyes will soon be upon her. She did not know it but upon arrival to his kingdom she would no longer be Princess Blair of the Silver Falcon clan, no she would become Queen  Blair of the Scottish Slayers and he.. he would become king. He only prayed that she would be up to the task. He thought back to his arrival at Falcon's Nest, Blair ancestral home, and became infuriated once again. He knew the Silver Falcons were struggling but he did not know that it had gotten so desperate as to let a woman hunt. Let alone their very own princess. He couldn't believe King Lionel would allow her past the gates, much less free in the woods.He knew what was out there. He knew what roamed his woods, and what's more he  KNEW women were powerless against its call. Yet he had allowed his only daughter to

venture beyond the safety of the palace gates and into the woods, with not so much as a single guard to help her if she did run into trouble.  The only thing that granted him any leverage in this war. What had the old fool been thinking? He punched the wall of the chamber allotted to him and muttered under his breath. He had a good idea he knew EXACTLY what he had been thinking, and Lionel had better pray to God, that he was wrong. Either way he very well intended to find out. He turned on his heel and stomped towards the old dining hall. 

  He heard the familiar sounds of his clan settling down to eat, the murmur of laughter filling the hall, the dull hum of conversation. The monastery no longer served the monks of old,   but the townspeople still showed it respect and kept it clean. They came weekly to throw fresh rushes upon the floor and scrub the stones of the altar til it shone, lighting the candles and offering feeble prayers to a silent god. The linens were washed and replaced in preparation  for any who sought solace and sanctuary among the forgotten monks. Monks whom had been laid to rest at least a century or so ago in the long winding catacombs that stretch beneath the massive masonry of the church. He strode into the dining hall of the old church and his breath escaped him. Blair stood in the archway silhouetted by moonlight, the flicker of the candlelight

making her auburn hair seem as if it was indeed made of flame. The colors of the stained glass windows played upon her delicate face. He slowly looked her up and down.Camilla had promised to make her presentable but the image standing in front of him far surpassed presentable, in fact it teetered on the edge of ethereal. Her eyes met his across the room and again he saw a flash of defiance in their depths. His gut tightened. He wanted her, there was no mistaking nor denying it.

   He wanted to clasp her in his arms and crush his lips to hers, forever silencing her protests with a kiss so demanding she'd have no choice but to surrender. He imagined his hands reaching up and entangling themselves in those fiery locks. He groaned. He could feel his desire growing with each passing second, the throbbing in his loins becoming unbearable. The vision of them inside his head, intertwined and enjoying

their marital bed was slowly driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her, sweep her into his arms, find the nearest bed, and make her his again and again, until they both were absolutely spent and exhausted.  He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He needed to get himself under control. They were in a church, abet an all but abandoned one, but a church none the less, such thoughts did not belong in hallowed halls.

  He took a couple more deep breaths and desperately willed his erection to ease, thankful his tunic afforded him some semblance of cover. Soon, he promised himself, soon, but not here. 

Blair stood in the doorway and slowly scanned the room, taking in the people crowded in the small dining hall. The smell of roasted meat permeated the room, meat she was certain that would be both

succulent and moist, but was unsure of the source. They had just very recently stopped here. The unloading of the carriages were still under way as she had entered,  There could not have been enough time to have prepared the feast that now covered the tables almost to bursting, nor could it had possibly been prepared in advance. She suspected that Camilla was not the only one present who was privy to the ancient arts. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered. The vow she had made outside momentarily forgotten

as her eyes darted from succulent roast, to decadent cake, to mounds of plump ripe, and finally to overflowing cups of wine. she could not wait to be escorted to her seat, even if would be beside him. She supposed she could tolerate to ensure she would not starve.

 Then, her eyes fell upon Duncan and her breath caught in her throat. He stood at the end of the hall, his arms relaxed at his sides. It seemed he had bathed since their arrival, his jet black hair shone with tiny droplets of water as if kissed by the morning dew. He had on a clean white tunic that stretched taught across a chest that appeared to be made of chiseled stone. She slowly let her eyes drift lower and what she saw made a fire ignite within her, and sent a slow burn down to her most private area. His legs, sturdy and as round as small tree trunks, were barely clothed in a pair of black hose.

She was thankful that the tunic he wore extended to right below his knees and she was not privy to a glimpse of a certain part of anatomy. She caught herself wondering just exactly how he would look completely naked, the thought elicited a flash of defiance in her eyes. HE was the last man she should be having that kind of thoughts about. A traitor, a murderer, a deserter and a coward! It was true that in just a few short days they would become man and wife, and there were certain duties a wife was expected to fulfill, willing or no. She had resigned herself to this. She caught her self wondering just what type of lover he would prove to be.Would he be gentle, patient and kind or would he force his self upon her, leaving her broken and destroyed upon their marital bed? She sent a prayer up to what ever god still resided in this silent, forgotten church to show her some mercy and grant her a tolerable wedding night. She noticed that his hands were now clenched into fists, and he appeared to be breathing hard. Was he mad at her or was he too feeling the slow fire of desire build and turn his inside to molten lava?  She really hoped it was the latter.  Duncan strode up to her, and bowing, extended his hand.

"My lady, will you grant me the greatest honor of allowing me to escort you to your seat?"

Blair hesitated but placed her hand in his, gasping, when he took the opportunity to first kiss it, and then draw her index finger into his mouth and gently nibble it.

" How dare you, you pompous ass," she hissed, " release my hand at once."

   Duncan grinned and stood.

   " As you wish, Princess," he said, and stepped to her side, his arm quickly encircling her waist crushing her to his side. The heat from his body seeped into and made her knees weak. Fight it she urged herself, but snuggled into him just the same. The hall was drafty and her skin was still chilled from the cold outside. She found herself all to willing to be supported by him as he slowly  led her down the center aisle between the tables, stopping at times to talk to this person or that, or to answer a question. Blair fully expected to meet stares of disdain and perhaps even hostility, but she was shocked to find that these people looked upon her with kindness, bright smiles upon their faces, as if she was a long lost member,returned to them at last. She felt a gentle tug on her skirt and looked down to see a pretty little blond hair girl with shimmering eyes looking up at her. Her little mouth in a wide grin, a grin missing the two front teeth. She guessed her to be no more than five at the most. 

" HI!," she squealed, " I'm Cathy, Uncle Duncan told me not to bother you but I wanted to let you know you look real pretty! Just like the princesses in the story books he reads to me almost every night!"

 With that little Cathy, gave Blair's dress a big hug and skipped away back to her mother who Blair could hear quietly chastising her. Her eyebrows arched in surprise. This tyrant read to children at night?!She looked up and caught Duncan's face in that cocky half-amused grin. His soft brown eyes flickering with affection as they followed his niece. It was obvious he loved the child. OK, she told herself, perhaps he's not COMPLETELY evil. 

" Little Cathy, I should have known she wouldn't have listened to me!," he said with a slight chuckle, " No, she thinks everyone is just waiting to be her friend. I hope she didn't bother you?" 

Blair looked at him, a confused crease coming to her brow, just who was this man who could slaughter thousands without a second thought and yet be so kind and gentle to children? Was it she was missing something? Had she judged him too harshly? Did perhaps her brother elaborate the c*****e they witnessed at his hands, and if so why? What purpose would it have served them to make her both hate and fear the man they knew she would one day be forced to marry? Truly they were cruel to her, but were they have been that cruel as to exaggerate the tyranny of one man? They filled her head with images of bodies mercilessly ripped apart, their innards strewn asunder, and left to rot. They described in explicit detail the torture he would inflict upon anyone he pleased, making them cry out and beg for death. The visions caused her nightmares for weeks. Somehow the image did not fit the man standing in front of her right now and an inner war began to rage. On one side stood her loyalty and love for her fellow kinsmen, whom she believed unjustly murdered by her future groom and on the other the slow and insistent desire to be his. Which could she let win? She decided to cease such pondering and just enjoy this night.  

  She was  showed her to her seat and no sooner than she was settled, a fine trencher of brown bread was placed in front of her and piled high with mutton, and venison. Perfectly roasted apples accompanied the meat, along with fried cabbage. A strong, yet sweet mead was quickly poured into her chalice. Duncan settled in beside her and he too was quickly served. His servants proved quite capable and attentive,because no sooner had she drank the last drop from her chalice one was beside her offering a full one. Her trencher never emptied. She must have lost count of how many glasses she had drank because her vision blurred and the room spun. Too late she realized that she was indeed, quite drunk. She placed her hands on the table and shut her eyes. Ack, this was just perfect! Now how would she make it to her room? She opened her eyes slowly, and looked to her left. She was relieved to find Camilla seated there, a look of concern upon her face. 

    " Lassie, are ye alright? You look a little green around the gills, dear.," she said placing a hand on Blair's shoulder. Then she thought back, and realized with dread that she had not instructed the staff to not serve her mead but milk instead as sh was told to by Duncan. The princess was drunk, very drunk, and what's worse is Duncan knew. The absolute rage in his face confirmed that. She had to get the princess out of here before her dinner made a most unpleasant reappearance. Camilla stood up and cleared her throat. 

   " Princess Blair would like to thank each of you who helped in preparation of this fine meal. She has informed me she quite enjoyed every last bite, but she is finds herself quite tired from the days activities and is feeling the beginnings of migraine. Duncan and I will see her safely to her room. Please feel free to carry on the festivities in our absence." 

   With that Duncan stood and carefully slid helped Blair place her arm on his shoulder for support, and slowly helped her to her feet. 

   " Just lean on me and take it slow, and for the love of Peter, TRY not to puke on me!!" 

  All Blair could do was nod her head, the room had started spinning again, she slowly shuffled forward and somehow managed to make her way into the long hall leading to what she hoped would be a solitary room. By some miracle they reached the simple wooden door leading to her room. Duncan slowly lowered her to the bed and kissed her forehead. 

   " You best sleep now, you're going to be regretting this in the morning," he said. He turned to Camilla and beckoned to follow him outside the door. 

    " I want a guard posted outside this room throughout the night, do you hear me? Do NOT sleep, either. You are to stay beside Blair's bed and attend to her, do you hear me?! I know you are capable of this. Do not fail me or you will not find me as forgiving as I am now, and if you hear anything, and I mean ANYTHING," he said with a pointed look, " you are to summon me immediately."

  " My lord, we are on hallowed ground, our enemies cannot come to her." Camilla said. 

    " No, but they can call to her, and in her current state she is much more susceptible." he growled.  

   Camilla hung her head. Aye, Blair would definitely be more susceptible to the call, and it was mostly her fault. She could only hope she could run interference between her and The Void and keep the princess safe. She had to.  She entered the room and shut the door, mumbling a few words. A low blue light illuminated the outline of the doorway and window and faded. She waved her hands over the sleeping princess and a shimmering golden bubble formed around her. It wasn't much, just mediocre barrier spells, but something was better than nothing she reckoned. She pulled her hatbox towards her and opened it. This time, instead of the usual pastries, breads, jams and sweets, she summoned forth big cloves of garlic. She grabbed the vials of holy water from the crude table and clutched it to her breast. She sit these at her feet and grabbed a small piece of firewood from the pile beside the modest fireplace. She took her small dagger from her belt and began to sharpen it into a point. They can try to take her princess but they're going to have one hell of a fight on their hands, she told herself, propping herself against the wall as she worked. Her eyes strayed to the bed where Blair lay. HER princess. She was not going to fail her. She would protect, even if she had to die to do so. Even if she had to do the unthinkable, even if she had to show her true form, she would keep her safe. She HAD to.

    Colin sit outside the princess's room. He saw the barriers go up. He sighed. Camilla had made up her mind. A fight to the death, true form revealed if it came to it. 

   " Camilla, are ye sure? What if the princess fears you after?," he asked through the closed closed door. 

    " It is a chance I am willing to take! We have to keep her safe, Duncan is depending on us. This may be the only way! I.. I don't want to lose her.. please Colin understand... I.. I can't."

" Aye, I know. Let us hope it will not come to that."

  " Yes, let us hope it will not come to that," Camilla said and returned to her work. 

 Outside the shadows darkened and the wind howled. A lone figure sat crouched high in a tree, clothed all in black to better blend into the shadows. His eyes flashed red for a second. He had watched her for days while she hunted in the woods, his hunger growing, but he waited, and he tonight he decided he had waited long enough. She was intoxicated and weak. It was best he took her tonight, before she reached Duncan's kingdom and became his bride. Before they had a chance to consummate and her power became unlocked, and together, they could destroy his master once and for all. No, he told himself, he would make sure to kill her here and now! He closed his eyes and focused.. 

  "Come.. Come to me," he whispered.