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    The fire leapt up high into the sky, kissing the dark starlessness with scorching fingers. As it was cold that night, everyone
huddled around the fire for warmth, almost inside the Sanctuary. Kassy and Rhiannon were just off from Conor, who was
staring into the fire, his face distant.
    Kassy, being the curious and nosy girl that she was, tugged on Rhiannon's robe. "Why is Conor making such a sad face,
Rhia?" she asked, not bothering to lower her voice. Conor looked up at them, hearing his name mentioned, then looked away
again. He was far used to people talking about him. They seemed to like pitying their prince who had ever so recently begun to
mourn the loss of his beloved Claire.
    Rhiannon shook her head, and whispered to Kassy, "Child, don't talk so loud, you don't want Conor to know that you're
talking about him again, do you? You remember what happened last time he overheard you..." she chuckled as the girl's face
turned bright red in embarrassment and remembrance.
    "Well, what happened? None of the adults tell me, and I wanna know." she pouted, petitioning to her older sister to tell her
what had happened.
    Rhiannon sighed, and told her, "Well, Kassy, do you remember Claire?"
    Kassy nodded, smiling. "I remember her. She was really, really pretty."
    The other smiled lightly, thinking other thoughts. "Well, she's dead, lass. Conor loved her a lot."
    Kassy was silent for a moment, in respect for the dead. "Well, that means that Conor can love you, now, doesn't it?" she
added, perking up after only a moment of being upset.
    Rhiannon rolled her eyes and tried not to color. "No, silly girl. It means that Conor doesn't have to worry if he accidentally
looks at someone else. Then the bitch won't have a hissy."
    Kassy hid a giggle behind her small hand, and stood up. "Do you want me to go and help you talk to him?" she asked,
giggling.
    Rhiannon tried her hardest to stay composed. "No, lass, you have to go to bed! You know that!"
    Kassy put her hands on her hips, and sighed. "Okaaaaaaay." she dragged it out, knowing that her older sister was right. She
never won the battle against her, and she might as well resign now while she was still ahead.
    They left the bonfire to go up to their room in the Sanctuary.
    When they were inside, Rhiannon saw her adopted sister already there, furiously writing in a leather bound journal. She was
smiling, and almost scribbling at her story. Rhiannon grinned, and asked her, "You writing another story?"
    She looked up, brushing a lock of curly blond hair behind a slightly pointed ear. Her smile widened after the question. "Aye.
I'm working on another story. Only right now, I'm trying to figure out how in the world I'm going to use the lavender soap in this
one."
    Rhiannon giggled, and asked her, "When did this get started, any way?"
    Gwen giggled as well. "I think it started when we caught Conor using our soap." she shrugged, "So, Kassy, you're going to
not fight about going to sleep while we go talk to all the other grown up people down there? I'm pleasantly surprised." she
closed the book softly, a secretive smile on her face. "I have an idea."
    Rhiannon tried to hide a grin. "Uh oh. You have an idea. This should be good. What is it this time, you going to create a
murder scenario in which every victim was using the same bar of lavender soap?" she giggled, "Oh well."
    Gwen shook her head. "No, Rhia! I'm going to give Conor a little something, show him that we care and that we wish he
wasn't sulking." there was a mischievous smile on her face as she pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a pale cloth. The scent
coming from it was very familiar.
    Rhiannon giggled, she knew what was in this package. "He's not exactly sulking. Like you do." she teased.
    Gwen crossed her arms, and pulled Kassy down to her bed. "C'mon, lass, it's time for ye to sleep. Go to sleep fast, so that I
can see the look on Conor's face when we give him this little gift." she giggled again.
    Kassy obeyed, pulling her nightshift over her head. She crawled under the quilts, and closed her eyes. "I'm asleep. You can
go have fun now, Gwen."
    She laughed, and picked up her book. "If you say so." they left.

    Across the seas was different to her. She faintly remembered things before she met Marcius, which was mostly a blur. But,
she remembered going across the seas from Eire, and becoming a nun on Glastonbury. She had been told that she was
pregnant and that the father of the child didn't care about her and left her unconscious for dead in a cave. He had saved her,
and told her that God's mercy would save her, even though she had sinned.
    She was stitching at an alter cloth now, sheltered from the cold. She would be making clothes for a baby, but the other nuns
wanted to take over that duty. Marcius came to her now, and the other nuns left. "Sister, how are you?" he asked her.
    Claire smiled at him, "I'm doing wonderful thanks to you, Brother." looking away, she asked him, straight forward, "What is
it that you came here for? I know I have been slow at this alter cloth, but I haven't been able to stay at this task for long, as the
children love to have me read to them, I can't resist it, since I am the only nun that knows Latin."
    He smiled, "It's not the alter cloth that I'm worried about, Claire. I have a confession to make."
    She was puzzled, "But isn't Patricus receiving confessions?"
    He shook his head, "No, I have to tell you something. Claire, you are not exactly a Christian."
    Claire looked up at him, confused. "Brother, I have been trying to learn your ways. I feel with all my heart that they are what
could be true, after it all."
    He sighed. "It's not the same, Claire. I should never have told you that you belonged here. You don't. I would offer you
sanctuary here, but I cannot, Roman laws prevent it, since you are a foreigner. None of us will betray you, and we will send
you back to Eire where you belong. If no one will care for you there, we would be proud to help you establish a new convent
there."
    She lowered her eyes, "How can I live where people do not know me?"
    He smiled at her, "They know you well enough, lass."
    She was to leave on the next day with the trade boats.

    Conor looked up as he heard someone coming. The steps were light, he almost didn't hear them. It had to be Gwen and
Rhiannon, he figured, since the foot steps were accompanied by giggles. Gwen was always giggling around him, laughing at
some private joke.
    She was the first to sit beside him. He wasn't surprised when she hugged him in greeting. It had always been one of Gwen's
little habits, to greet friends with hugs. He gladly returned the hug, as he was much in need of one.
    " 'ello, Gwennie. What're ye up to, today?" he asked her, grinning at Rhiannon as she sat down.
    Gwen pointed to her book, and told him, "Well, I'm just writing the best story you're ever going to hear in your entire life."
she boasted, and added, "Of course, you're never going to read it, and it's hardly good. No where near Fergus's."
    Conor shook his head, and laughed. "Why do you always make me want to laugh, Gwennie?" he asked her, a smile
spreading across his face.
    "Ah, so it worked! You're smiling! That's the first time in a few days, Conor." she told him. She reached for a bundle hidden
behind her. "Well, we brought you something. I thought it might cheer you up a little." she bit her lip so that she wouldn't grin.
    Conor looked up at Rhiannon, and they laughed together at some unknown joke. He pulled back the cloths, and found a
smooth bar of homemade lavender scented soap. He looked up at Gwen, and asked her, "Is this a hint?"
    Gwen colored, and shook her head, "Definitely not." she leaned close, and Conor was caught off guard, until he realized she
was smelling him. She grinned at him, "You've been using our soap again, haven't you? You still smell like lavender and leather.
You always do, come to think of it." she wanted to grin even further, but he wasn't supposed to know that she had chosen the
same bathing time one day and innocently seen a little more than Conor would normally have chosen for her to see.
    He blushed, and admitted, slowly, "I like that soap. It's just so..." he trailed off.
    For a moment, Gwen's thoughts turned a little wayward, and she thought of something that Rhiannon had admitted to
thinking of... for a moment, she thought of the scandalous thought of running a bar of lavender scented soap down Conor's wet
back... It was a sweet thought that Rhiannon had orchestrated long ago.
    He took a deep breath, trying to control the flustered way she always left him. Making him thank the gods, she got up, and
for some unknown reason to him, she went to go talk to Ferrous, taking the mug of ale offered to her.
    Rhiannon and Conor both watching in amazement as she downed the entire thing, racing Fergus. He laughed, and challenged
her again. She refused.
    Conor shook his head, turning to Rhiannon. "Can you believe her?"
    Rhiannon grinned, "Yeah, she sure is something, isn't she?" she was silent as she watched Gwen blink a few times, trying to
shake off an ale-head.
    Conor nodded, and added, "I'm never going to understand her. She's just so..." he didn't know how to complete the
sentence at all.
    Rhiannon looked at him, and noticed how his gaze followed the blonde's every move. "Does she remind you of Claire?" she
asked suddenly, knowing that her sister did look a lot like Claire.
    He nodded helplessly. "Aye, she does look a lot like Claire. incredibly so." he shook his head, "But at the same time, she's
so much different. She has this spirit to her, and I've even seen her beat lads in mock fights... what's her story, Rhia? She seems
like she has quite a past behind her."
    She shrugged, "We all have pasts, Conor. Hers is just a little more... different." Rhia sighed. "When I was a few years old,
my mother found her on our doorstep crying in a basket. She couldn't have been but a moon old. My mother swore to her
death bed that Gwen always looked like a faery, one of the Old Folk, but I'm not sure of that. If she was one of the Sidhe, why
is she with us?"
    Conor had no answer to give her.
    So Rhia continued. "Well, I was about ten summers when Kassy was born. Momma died that year. So, I took up the job of
raising us, with the help of our tribe. Mostly, since she was always a cute child, the boys would have her hang around, and she
would learn with them. That's how she can fight. I have no idea how she got so good, I guess she just did."
    Conor nodded. "You raised her, then?" he asked another question.
    Rhiannon nodded, proud of her sister. "Aye. I did. But, why do you ask so much about her?" she asked her own question.
    Conor shrugged, "She's just so interesting a person, since she's so different from normal lasses. You, however, are much
easier to understand."
    Rhia smiled, "Thank you. I guess."
    Conor picked up the soap and asked her, "What is this all about, any way?"
    She started giggling and explained to the prince the story of the lavender soap, changing it a little so that she and Gwen did
not sound obsessed and scare him off.
    Just as the story was coming to a close, Gwen wobbled over, holding her head. "I can't drink another drop," she whispered,
almost falling down beside Conor, who felt inclined to offer her his shoulder.
    Fergus laughed loudly, setting his own mug of ale down beside him, coming to rest beside the girl. "Can't take it, huh, Gwen?
I told ye ye couldn't."
    Gwen looked up at Fergus, and groaned. "I'll never do that again. I'll be hobbling around for days!"
    Conor grinned at her, "Ah, if'n I know you, you won't. You'll be up and about tomorrow. After you sleep it off."
    She shrugged, "I don't think I can make it back to the cave." she hiccoughed, and put a hand over her mouth.
    Conor helped her stand up, and nodded to Rhiannon, "Night, Rhia. I'm going to escort our little Gwennie off to her bed so
she won't be drunk tomorrow and then go on to my own bed. It's getting late."
    Fergus grinned at Conor, and punched his arm lightly, "That's a smart lad, Conor! She's not really drunk, she should be fine!
A'course, since she's kin to the faery folk- you have to be, lass!- she'll make ya forget Claire in a moment!"
    Conor blushed, and shook his head, "No, Fergus. She's going to her bed. With Kassy in the same room. And I'm going
back to my bed, where no one should be. Except me."
    Fergus shrugged, "Suit y'self. I'm sure Rhia over there would love tae hold ye close tonight, as well. She'd be the better pick,
'cause our Gwennie could steal yer soul, if'n you aren't careful."
    Gwen rolled her eyes and Rhiannon blushed. Conor closed his eyes, his face redder than scarlet. He wanted so much to
crawl into a hole and live there for the rest of his life! Gwen started to hobble away, but Conor caught up with her, offering a
steady arm around her waist which she gratefully accepted, trying to walk straight.
    Rhiannon followed a safe distance behind, hoping that she wouldn't see her younger sister disappear into the blond prince's
room. She didn't, and Conor helped her to her bed. Gwen's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, then she opened them again, and
whispered, "Liam..." arms were twined around his neck and she pulled him close, kissing him. Then, she suddenly realized what
she was doing and pulled away, whispering her apologies.
    Conor chalked it all up to the ale. He left, confused. Who was Liam? Rhiannon had trouble sleeping that night, as well.

    The next morning dawned early on them. When Rhiannon awoke, Gwen was not in her bed. She figured that the girl was
taking a bath, as she loved to do. She went to go find her sister.

    Claire stared off at the horizon, looking at the land that was coming steadily up. She remembered that land line, as she had
committed it to memory the day she left Eire. (why do I dread going back to Eire so much?) Gripping the railing tight, she took
a breath of the salty air. (I know that there was some reason why I was going to go sailing away from it all with some one. Who
was it? Why were we fleeing?) A sigh escaped her and she went back into the cabin of the big trade boat, wanting to hide from
the world until she figured out why she was so afraid.

    Gwen held her breath and ducked underneath the water, swimming a distance as she waited for suds to rinse away from
slightly bronzed skin. The bathing chamber was dimly lit and so the water was dark. She resurfaced where she couldn't touch
bottom. All the bathing chamber was was a deep pool of water at the bottom of the Sanctuary. It naturally circulated out of the
chamber, so it was a perfect place to bathe. She swam back over to the edge and her hand groped for her soap. She couldn't
find it any where. (oh drat it, where's the stupid soap?) She rose up to look for it, and saw that she was not the only one in the
bathing chamber. (ye gods, please say that it isn't who I think it is!)
    Someone knelt beside the pool of water, scooping water in his hands and splashing it in his face. She couldn't see much in
the dim light, but she could see that even though this form didn't wear a tunic, he did wear pants. He was scrubbing at his face,
trying to wake himself up, she guessed. He turned toward the light, and she could see blond curls wet and clinging to his
forehead. (oh gods, it's Conor!)
    She was about to charge over and demand her soap back, but she remembered that she was not exactly clad in decent
apparel. In fact, she wasn't wearing any thing at all! She sunk down further in the water, trying to figure out what she should do.
    Conor looked her way, hearing the tiniest of splashes. He saw a wet head, and called over, "Who else is in here?"
    She sighed, and told him, "Stay where you are, please. Conor. It's Gwen." she hoped her voice wasn't shaking because she
was now nervous and out of her wits. She could face any man alive, but not that one!
    He nodded, and asked her, "Let me guess, you're not exactly, ah... wearing any thing?"
    She nodded, her head barely peeking over the edge of the pool. "Could you um... turn around? I'm going to get out now."
she crossed her fingers, hoping that he was going to be a decent guy. (please oh please don't let him see me like this!)
    He grinned, she could see that clearly in the dim light. He turned around and as soon as she was convinced that he couldn't
see her, she was out and into a towel. "You out? I'm kind of trying to wash up a bit."
    She sighed, and figured that a towel was better than nothing. "Aye. I'm decent." she was sitting down as he turned around.
His eyes lingered a moment. (what's he staring at?) She remembered that the towel covered very little, and much of her upper
body, though not all, was exposed. (shit.) "You can stop staring, now." she told him, watching his face turn bright red.
    He turned back to the washing of his face, throwing his tunic back over his head. (you lucky bunny, you're clothed)
    Another person came in, the foot steps light. (ye gods, will it ever end?) A hand was placed on her shoulder, and Gwen
almost dropped her hold on the towel. She turned around, to see her older sister. "Oh, it's just you."
    Rhiannon raised an eye brow, "Just me? Gwen, are you okay?" she noticed Conor there. Conor was just standing there,
staring at them.
    Gwen shook her head, "No, Rhia, nothing happened. Besi..." she didn't want to finish, Rhiannon might make something of it.
    "Besides what?" she demanded of her sister, curiously looking back at Conor. "What happened, Conor?"
    He shook his head, a little smile on his face. "Nothing, Rhia. Nothing at all happened." he bit his lip to prevent a grin as he
walked over to them, "Here's your soap back, Gwennie. Thank you."
    He left. (how can he do that, to be so cool like that?) Rhiannon didn't really want to know what had happened. She did tell
her sister, "Let's go on back, Gwen. I have a feeling your day isn't quite over yet. It's only begun."
    Gwen nodded, and put on her good old gown (aren't I lucky?) and grinned sarcastically, voicing her thoughts. They left.

    Confrontations with Conor just never seemed to end. He found them eating breakfast, and grinned at Gwen. She had no
idea why he grinned, she just sighed. "What's wrong, Gwennie?" Rhiannon asked, concerned about her sister.
    (if only you knew!) "I'm just a little out of sorts today, Rhia. That's all." (please don't let Conor sit by us. He'll tease me to my
grave!)
    Conor found a seat near them, and told them, "They spotted a trade boat out in the water near the shore. I have a feeling
about this trade ship. It doesn't have Roman flags."
    Rhiannon frowned, "That doesn't mean that Romans aren't in it. Maybe it's a trick."
    Conor shook his head, "I don't think it's full of soldiers, if that's what you're saying. I think that maybe something else is in it."
    They would soon find out.

    The boat had been tied to the dock for about an hour, and yet Claire still didn't want to venture out of the little cabin. It
rocked steadily as waves hit the hull, and she used the motion as a calming sense. (I never want to leave, I'll just stow away and
go back to Britannia where I belong.) But, the other nuns were beckoning her to come out, and one told her, "The natives are
coming out, they are coming in peace. A couple of them look familiar to Marcius. He wants you to come out, too."
    Claire sighed, and left the cabin, picking up a little bundle with all she had in the world. The people she saw jarred up old
memories.

    Gwen, Rhiannon, and Conor left out with the others to go check out the trade ship. Kassy had wanted to come, but
everyone agreed that she was too young to come, as there just might be a fight. When they arrived, Conor sighed. "Looks like
it's just a bunch of Christian priests and nuns."
    Gwen narrowed her eyes, and tried her hardest not to let any thing against the Christians come out of her mouth. (bloody
Christians, here they are, ruining my day again. It's happened before, and who is willing to bet it'll happen again?) She heard
Conor gasp at her side.
    "What is it?" she asked him, a little alarmed. (he sees soldiers, doesn't he?)
    He didn't look at her and reassure that everything would be fine. "It's a miracle. I think that I'm seeing things, Gwen... I see
Claire!"
    She stared at him, "What in the world are you talking about?" she was beginning to be afraid for the prince's sanity.
"Where?" (oh great, now the Sanctuary is going to be that much more of a "jolly" place, huh? bitch is not really dead!) She
didn't really know why at the time, but her heart dropped.
    He pointed to the gang plank, where nuns were leading another woman down. A cowl was over said woman's hair and
much of her face, but Gwen knew that face very well, and a few strands of golden hair were beginning to come out of the cowl.
"Ye gods! It is her!" she whispered back, and Rhiannon sighed at the sight.
    "It's just our luck, huh, Gwennie?" she asked her sister, quiet so that Conor would not hear.
    Conor couldn't have heard them, since he was already striding up to the plank, to greet her. "Claire!" he called, his eyes blind
to everyone save her.
    Gwen and Rhiannon sighed in unison. "C'mon, Rhia, we'd better go over there and make sure he doesn't get himself in
trouble." (great. aren't we just lucky little bunnies?)
    By the time they had reached Conor, Claire had made her way all the way down. She stared at him, her blue eyes troubled.
Conversing with the nuns, there were surprised and frightened outbursts. Neither Conor, Rhiannon, nor Gwen could understand
the Latin, especially since the remarks were so quickly exchanged.
    "Conor?" she whispered, her Irish coming back to her after saying his name and looking upon his face.
    " 'Tis I, Claire." he whispered, and reached for her face. Slowly, recognition filled her face. (this is the man that Marcius told
me left me for dead with his unborn child never to see or care about me again!) Not caring that there were ladies of the church
around her, she slapped Conor soundly across the face, leaving a red hand mark.
    "You left me! And here I am, going to bear you a child..."
    The ladies didn't know what she was saying, but every one of the nuns were wide eyed. They knew what the slap was and
they knew the tone of the voice. It was totally improper for a nun to behave like that! Quickly, reprimands shot her way. "Oh,
shove off, you blasted nuns!" she remembered when she was not a Christian, and when she was a pagan like the man who
stood before her now.
    Conor was stunned. He didn't know what to do. Standing there, with his mouth slightly ajar, he swallowed, trying to pretend
that that hadn't just happened.
    Gwen stared at Claire, not sure what she should do, either. Rhiannon would just stand there and not interfere, she knew,
since Claire was Conor's matter. But, she didn't feel like she could let this little bitch get away with slapping Conor when he
hadn't done any such thing. (he didn't, right?)
    She turned to Claire. "What did you do that for, Claire?"
    Claire stared at her. "What did I do that for? What does it matter? Conor's a bastard and he deserved it. Do you want to be
slapped, too..." she trailed off, trying to remember who this was. (she's that girl who usually makes Conor laugh. She's the one
who looks like a blasted faery. sometimes acts like one, too!) "... Gwen? I remember you, now! You're that little..." she didn't
continue.
    "What about me, Princess? What is there about me that matters any thing?"
    Claire sneered at her, remembering many verbal fights in which she had gone to Conor for comfort for. "You are the one that
always said things about me."
    Gwen shrugged, "All of them were true. Why should I refrain from saying things that are true, Princess?" she said it sweetly,
yet almost as a threat.
    "Because, I am the Princess Claire. You don't say things about me and get away with it!" she told her, looking at Conor,
who was still in shock. She sighed disgustedly.
    "Oh. I've forgotten- high nosed people of the Roman society don't tolerate being insulted, since they are all soft skinned
wimps." she retorted, staring intensely at Claire. It was not an unusual situation.
    Claire pushed her to the side, "Get out of my way, Gwen!"
    Gwen put her hands on her hips for a moment. "Oh, so you can go to that Roman Queen Diana and go tell on where the
Sanctuary is so they can devastate us?" she pushed her, quite hard, into the water. "Tell her from there!"
    What Gwen had forgotten was that Claire didn't know how to swim.

    Conor finally woke out of his shock. "Gwen!" he said her name angrily, staring at her. "What'd you do that for?"
    She shrugged, and wanted to cower away from him. She had never seen Conor's face so livid, and he had never looked at
her with such rage. She could bear it from an enemy on the battle field, but not from one of her closest friends. "Conor..." she
put a hand on his arm, and told him, "Conor, she's not supposed to be alive. Before Galen left again, he told me of certain
things... I thought they were all fool's folly until now, but he told me that Claire was going to not be dead, that the priest saved
her with the Spear. He told me of my parentage..." she shrugged, "And I can tell you now, Conor, that she will die down there.
Water is her undoing." she stared at the waves lapping to the shore.
    Conor's glare softened, and he looked at her in curiosity. "You knew?" this almost made him mad, but he remembered that
to Gwen, her parentage was very touchy, and for any one to know where she didn't, she regarded the person a fool. He also
remembered that Gwen was also very secretive about any thing regarding magic, prophecy, or any thing revolving around that
matter.
    She nodded and looked at him, to see his reaction. His look was soft, and he reached for her hand, as if to offer support.
She felt she would need it, for now the knowledge of what she knew sunk in. "He told me things I wouldn't dare repeat to
others. But you wouldn't tease me or tell, would you, Conor?" she asked him, almost begging. She had known Conor ever
since he had come to the Sanctuary, about a year after she had. He had been so sympathetic, and saved her from teasings.
    He shook his head, and said softly, "I would never do any thing to hurt you, Gwennie." his brown eyes sought her green
eyes. (oh Conor, you don't know how much that means to me!)
    "Well, Conor, he said the reason why my father left me on a door step was because he was burdened with a child he could
never raise. My mother... she was one of a different kind, a different race. She was a faery, Conor. And so she couldn't stay
for me, nor could she take me with her. So, Rhiannon's family was chosen to care for me." her voice was soft, carrying only to
Conor's privileged ears.
    "Are you sure, Gwennie? Is that what Galen told you?" he asked carefully, trying to discover what this meant.
    "Aye. That's what Galen told me. I'm not sure quite what it means, but I guess that means that I am half-faery like every one
teases me. And I guess since I am half-faery, I can weild a little of their magic."
    Conor grinned, and asked her, "How about a little lightning?" it was an impish statement, and was meant to make her smile.
    She looked at him sideways, a little annoyed. "Don't push it, Conor. You said you'd not tease me." she crossed her arms,
and tried not to giggle. It was supposed to be funny, and she thought it was funny, but it would certainly lead to more teasings,
which she had had enough of. "I would tell Rhia, but well... I know she'd understand yet it's not the same."
    He nudged her chin up with a finger, "Ah, Gwen, everything will be okay, I promise ya!"
    She smiled at him, and looked down at the water where the only movement was the waves. "Can you ever forgive me?"
    He shrugged, "I suppose I can, since well... she wasn't supposed to live, she dodged death twice. I guess she's not coming
back, so that's just how we're gonna have to deal with that." he shrugged, and tugged on the earring in his ear, awkwardly. (I'm
not sure what to say any more. What's happening to me?)
    She was secretly glad that he was forgiving her for Claire's death. They walked back to the horses, where Rhiannon was
waiting. She looked rather worried, "What took you two so long to get back? Trading starts in a while, the traders have agreed
to trade with us, as long as Gwen doesn't push any of them into the water, spear saved or not."
    Gwen looked away, and smiled a secretive smile. (I did that for the better for every one, and you know it, Rhiannon!) "You
going to trade any thing, Conor?"
    He shrugged, "Depends on what they have there, Gwennie." he grinned at Rhiannon, and added, "Now, if they have any
home made lavender soap..."
    Both sisters exchanged a grin.

    The trading was held at the docks later that day. Kassy was allowed to come, since she had been making little rag dolls for
trading for days. "Conor's Da was great to make a trade route, wasn't he, Rhiannon?" she asked her, swinging the bundle as
she walked beside her.
    Rhiannon grinned, and told her, "Aye, he sure was." she glanced up at Conor and Gwen, who were walking alone, talking
quietly. Rhiannon wasn't sure what they were talking about, but whatever it was, she knew she would be excluded. (Is
something happening between Gwen and Conor? I hope not, for the lass's sake! He can only be a heart-breaker)
    Gwen happened to be talking to Conor about the bars of soap that she toted with her, in a sack throw over her shoulder.
"We have wildflower, which Catlin happens to like a lot, and there's lavender, and of course we have lilac, and honeydew, and
a few others."
    He grinned, "That's a lot to trade off, from the size of that sack!" he noticed how she was straining a little under it's weight.
"You sure you don't want me to carry that for you?"
    He laughed, and added, "I bet I could carry you and the soap all the way back to the Sanctary, you're so light!"
    She laughed, and grinned at him, "I bet you could, but you shouldn't. What would people think if you started carrying me?"
    He shrugged, "I dunno, nor do I care. People have been thinking a lot about me for a long time, now." he grinned at her, and
put an arm around her shoulder. "Nor should you care what they think, it's not up to them to be a wonderfully interesting spirit
like you!"
    She was glowing with pride, and was privately aware of his arm around her shoulder, every sense was trained on it.
    "Well, since we're here, we'd better get to bargaining for some goods!" he motioned to the tiny market set up on the docks,
throngs of people surrounding make-shift booths wearing many colors. Many smells wafted through the air, and even food
displays were up. It looked to be tons of fun.

    At the enterance to this market, there were some rough looking sailors guarding the enterance. One put a spear in front of
Conor and Gwen as they came up, "Sorry, lass, but they aren't lettin' ye in this time since ye pushed the Lady Claire in tae the
sea, an' drowned her. It's all they're doin' tae punish ye, though."
    Gwen sighed, and was ultimately discouraged. (how am I going to trade off these soaps for some new things?) She forgot
the hope of getting some cloth for some new clothes yet again.
    Conor looked at Gwen's saddened face, and took the sack of soap from her, explaining, "Gwennie, I'll bring ya back some
stuff, and trade this off. Just tell me what ya need."
    She smiled, and hugged him, "Thanks, Conor, you're the best." she thought for a minute. "I'm going to need some brocade
for a new cloak, and I might need some new cloth to make a new dress or something..." she trailed off, and grinned at him, "As
talented as you are, I'll bet that you can think of something." (this should be interesting!)
    He nodded, and hoped he didn't look as clueless as he felt. (what in the name of the gods would I get her?) It would prove
an interesting market day.

    Gwen sighed wistfully as she watched Conor go into the market with Catlin directing him where to go for the fabric she had
requested. Rhiannon and Kassy followed after them, going to the sweet rolls, first. (This is a strange twist in things... what does
Conor really think of me?) She was secretly hoping that he would pick something nice and special up for her and bring it back
as a surpriise, but was unsure if it would happen. She walked back to the Sanctuary, to wander through a meadow and pick
more flowers to start making extracts to make the soap.
    Conor sighed, hauling the soap over his shoulders yet again, "Cat, where's this trading booth you're taking me to? This is
taking forever! And by the gods, it's so bloody heavy!" his fingers were turning bright red where they clutched around the rough
sack.
    Catlin looked back at him, stopping in the middle of a walkway. "Conor, don't be such a baby, we'll be there in a few
moments..." she paused, and grinned, spotting the desired booth. "Aha! There it is! C'mon, Conor, here's the place to exchange
her soaps for some currency."
    She looked at the man who was dealing at the booth, and gestured to Conor, saying something in Latin. He nodded, and
smiled. Catlin took the sack from Conor, laying it out as if it weighed no more than a feather. She poured the contents out onto
the table, and the man smiled, commenting on it.
    He fished through a pouch at his round middle, pulling out a small handful of even smaller bronze coins. She shook her head,
and offered what Conor guessed was a larger amount. She argued with him for a while until they settled on a larger amount of
money. Catlin smiled, and turned to Conor.
    "Here ya go." she handed him the money, keeping a coin in her hand to look at it. "This is the Emperor of Rome, the current
one. His face is on every small coin used in foreign trade. They think that us 'barbarians' will see the Emperor as a god and
want to worship him." she chuckled, and handed him the amusing coin.
    "I thought you didn't know Latin?" he accused. How much did he not know about Catlin?
    She thought for a moment, then answered him, "Oh, a priest taught me a little bit so I could understand the Mass services
when I was free." she sighed, "It has more practical uses than that... I do miss them. I was lucky that some of Gar's favored
slaves could get to be able to meet the priests, and worship. I would be lost without the Lord." her look was distant, then she
dismissed the topic like it had never come up, or it was a curse. Conor favored the latter. "What are we getting Gwen?"
    Conor would ask her more, but decided against it, answering her question. "We're getting her material for a cloak and
maybe a new dress." he shrugged, "Is there even enough money for that much?"
    Catlin grinned, "Even if there's not, I'm sure that we can haggle the price down. These are priests who like charity acting as
merchants. They also love haggling, since they only get to do it when a privileged person from our land knows Latin."
    He nodded, pretending he knew already what she was talking about. But right now, his mind was on the blonde that had
been flustering him and scrambling his thought patterns completely up the last few days.
    Catlin had successfully gotten a roll of blue brocade and a roll of a green, almost silky fabric. "Conor?" Catlin called, bringing
his errant thought back. "What're ya thinkin' about? I can tell you're thinking about something."
    He shrugged, "Nothing." it was told a little too quickly for safety.
    "If you say so." she said, grinning.
    "When ever you stop thinking about Gwen, just tell me." she slipped in, and Conor nodded.
    She laughed. "Knew it." a knowing smile was on her face. She knew what was happening probably better than Conor did.
    "Knew what?" he asked, alarmed.
    "You were thinking about her." she laughed a little, then added, "Again."
    Conor turned bright red, "So? What does it matter?"
    Catlin decided not to answer that.

    When they got back, Gwen was lulling by the fire, holding the boquette of lavender flowers in her lap. Conor was going to
simply lay the bundle down beside her and leave, letting her be, but he had to stop and look for a moment. (she looks so
peaceful, sleeping like that.) He knelt down beside her, and laid the bundle down, as planned. But, totally unplanned, his fingers
stroked across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. A smile budded there, and she pressed her cheek against his hand. He
pulled it away carefully, and walked away, smiling himself.

    In her dream, Gwen was talking to a man named Liam. He looked a lot like Conor, except instead of brown eyes, his eyes
were a piercing and stunning blue. She felt like she had known him all her life, and remembered a few dreams of him when she
was younger. (who is he? I feel like I've known him my entire life!) She didn't know exactly why, but all of a sudden, Liam's
slight form changed to Conor's, who was a bit taller. She smiled, as she felt an impulse to do so, all of the sudden, coming from
the corner of her mouth, like something had lingered there.
    Sleepy, she opened her eyes, expecting to see either Liam or Conor there. She didn't see either of them, but instead saw
Conor's back as he was walking away, disappearing inside the Sanctuary. She got up, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She
yawned, and saw the bundle beside her. She picked it up, and looked inside. The contents were beautiful. (he knew just what I
wanted, I wonder how he knew?) She followed him to express her appreciation.
    He was sitting in the common area, by the hearth in the corner. She sat beside him, and whispered, "Thank you." she didn't
know what else to say, for once in her life.
    "You're welcome, Gwennie." there was an awkward silence, and Conor wanted to say something, to make things like
normal, but he just couldn't remember what he used to say. All he could think of now was getting his tongue out of the knots it
was in. That, and her eyes. (she has the strangest yet most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen. They're so expressive, so
deep...) He lost track of time just staring at her eyes, thinking he was drowning.
    "Conor?" she asked him, ever so slightly. He didn't answer her, he just stared. She called his name again, and this time, he
responded.
    "Hunh?" he smiled, and tried not to blush a deep red color at being caught staring at her.
    She at once forgot what she was going to say with his brown eyes staring intensely at her. "Um..." she swallowed, trying to
think of something good to say to cover herself. She spotted Catlin and Fergus laughing together across the room. "What do
you suppose their laughing about?" she asked him, thanking the gods that they had been laughing, giving her a good enough
excuse to say something, since she had just mostly wanted to say his name.
    Conor shrugged, the tips of his ears burning, (ye gods, please say they aren't laughing at us!) along with the rest of his body.
She was sitting so close that he could smell the lavender flowers on her, and it was driving him insane. (gods, she always smells
like lavender... she always smells so good...) He wasn't sure he was going to be able to regain his composure for much longer.
Swallowing hard, he stood up, to get something to drink. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked her quickly, wanting to
get over to the kitchen quickly so he could grab them something.
    She shrugged, "I guess so." (what's he fishing at? Conor never drinks, no matter what.)
    He got them two mugs of spiced ale, and brought them back to her, handing her one of the mugs. Sitting back down, he
swallowed a big sip, the liquid hot down his throat. He made a started expression and she giggled, a little of the ale dribbling
down her chin as she tried to control her laughter.
    He put his mug down, and took hers as well, wiping the dribble away with a thumb, which lingered for a moment. He
immediately downed the rest of the liquid so he could get out of there before he lost it. (oh shit, things are getting overboard...
why does she have to look so... tempting... sitting there like that?) Since the sip had burned his throat, he was expecting the rest
of the mug to be worse than jumping right in a big bonfire. His face was strangled and she giggled more, out of her control.
(Sweet Mother, Conor, you look so funny! It's not really funny, I just can't help but laugh!)
    He strode out right about when he was about to sit back down and make a fool out of himself. His body ached for him to
stay, as did everything else, so they all responded accordingly, every fiber of him screaming out to go back to her. (Oh shit...)
He turned around, and grinned at her, one of the goofiest grins she had ever seen or he had ever given. Feeling much the fool,
he hid out in his cave.

    Gwen watched him go out, and pulled her knees up to her chin, hugging them up to her. She found she was burning up, and
being right beside the fire was not helping at all. She drank the last of her ale and went outside, where the cool evening air
rustled at her hair and gown. She loosened the cloak strings, and bared her shoulders a little, trying to get at the cool air. (What
in the world was that all about? What's wrong with me, I'm messing Conor up!) Sighing, she went back to her own cave where
she would write in her journal until suppertime.

    Fergus laughed, and asked Catlin, "Are you sure, lass?" he tried to control his laughter.
    Catlin grinned, "Aye, Conor's got it bad. One minute he flirts with her, the next minute he's all trying to keep his arms and
hands in front of him, trying ever so hard not to be obvious..." she giggled, drinking a little more of the ale. "It's good to see him
happy, though, isn't it? Claire died- for good this time- and he isn't thinking about HER at all."
    She shrugged, "But then, you never know! She could be a lot like Claire to him, so he wants her for it. You never know,
since this is Conor."
    Fergus smiled knowingly, a twinkle in his eye, "I'll talk to him later, how about if you talk to Gwennie, see how she's reacting
to the poor lad's advances..." they turned back to their mugs.

    Supper was eaten around the bonfire outside that night. Like usual, Gwen watched Conor from afar, watching at how the
flames seemed to want to kiss his toes, sparks jumping at him. He ignored them, and over the tips of the dying flames, he saw
his eyes were on her. (what's he looking at me for?) She shivered in the night air. In seeing this, Conor got up, and sat beside
her, wrapping a friendly arm around her, trying to warm her up.
    "Cold, Gwennie?" he asked her, hoping that was what the shiver was for. Otherwise, he'd feel really stupid putting his arm
around her. Besides, he liked it there.
    She nodded, and snuggled up closer to him. "It's a cold night." she commented, trying not to get overwhelmed at how close
he was and at his smell. He smelled like usual, of horses, leather, and of her lavender soap. There was a light musk, although
she didn't think it sweat. All in all, she decided that she liked his smell.
    "Aye." he said, and smiled thoughtfully. "A good night to tell stories by a fire. Maybe Fergus will tell some, later." he was
trying his hardest to keep her from stealing away and going off to her bed. (this is so comfortable, I kind of like having her head
on my shoulder)
    Fergus heard his name mentioned, and grinned at the sight of them. "I knew it would happen sooner or later." he said. Both
turned a deep shade of red, and Conor protested, though Gwen for once stayed quiet.
    He shrugged, "No matter if you're together or not, like the lad said, it's a good night for story telling. A night to be reckoned
with." he gestured broadly out, and nodded. "A story ye shall have." and he began telling them a story.

    "A long time ago, when the earth was new, the gods still conversed with men. They told them what quests to go on to find
special relics they had made, and they would give a few of them special powers. During this time, too, the Sidhe felt free to do
things with men as well." he winked at Gwen. "Well, this was the time that all of the faery mounds were constructed. They were
made for a reason, since they wanted beauty to be let into the human world from the Otherworld. They would also make them
as easier portals for the faery folk to use to get between their world and the human world. They say that if you still want to go
there, at sunset or sunrise you can circle a faery mound three times to get to the Otherworld. But beware, your presence is not
wanted there, as they found out with the humans in the early times.
    "Well, the gods eventually gave up on talking to all of the humans, deciding that since they didn't want to hear, and wanted
instead to bring evil into the world through murder and what have you. It was a king's youngest son that broke the special bond
between those of the Old Folk and the humans. He killed his father and elder brother, then when the people were persecuting
him, he disappeared into the Otherworld. He hid there for a while, then decided that since he couldn't go back to his own world
and rule without being killed, he would stay here and rule the faery. Well, it seems that he tried to murder the king, bringing evil
into the Otherworld, where people were content to be as they were. Many faery started acting strangely, and many magical
creatures began leaving the realm to go to the human world, where they didn't belong. Such animals like dragons, unicorns, and
questing beasts came out."
    He stared at them for a moment, licking his dry lips, then continued. "Well, you see that they killed this mortal, and banished
the rest of human kind from entering the realm, as well. But, it hadn't kept the Dark Magic calling itself evil from coming into the
Otherworld. That is why there are evil faery folk, who have bad intentions for things. They are banished from the Otherworld,
and stuck here where they die shortly after."
    He grinned at Conor, "And lad, they brought you here, you were a changeling." he teased, ruffling Conor's hair before
striding back over to Catlin and taking up another mug of ale.
    Conor ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix it. "That was quite a story." he commented, and looked at Gwen, "Does it
make you feel any better about your mother?"
    She shook her head, "But it is good to know more about my people. I wonder why she couldn't take me with her, though...
how can a baby be evil?"
    Conor shrugged. "Maybe it was against their laws. I don't know..." he looked at her, and at once remembered every reason
why he had left so abruptly earlier. "I don't think you as evil." (oh gods... look at her... she looks so beautiful...) He swallowed.
Hard.
    She didn't notice the temperature of his arm, considering she was beginning to get warmer as well. She was mostly thinking
about her parentage. "I wish I knew who my father was..." she said plaintively, looking up at Conor. She smiled at him. (his
eyes... he's so concerned... he's always concerned...)
    She hoped to the gods that she wouldn't give in to kissing him right then and there. It was so tempting, so very tempting...
"Conor?" she asked, mostly wanting to say his name.
    "Aye?" he asked softly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.
    "Do you... still... love Claire?" she asked.
    He shrugged, "I don't know..." he touched her face carefully, gingerly. He drew it away as if burned when she pressed her
cheek against his hand.
    "Maybe I should go off to bed now..." she said, attempting to slow down her heart which was going overtime at his touch.
    He nodded, and escorted her there. Daring himself, and hoping she wouldn't get mad at him, he kissed her cheek lightly.
"Good night, Gwennie." he whispered, and walked away.

    Gwen's head was still spinning when she laid down that night to sleep. Thinking about Conor and the strange happenings, she
fell asleep to welcoming dreams.

    A disembodied head practically floating in the middle of no where appeared in her mind's eye, while she was asleep,
dreaming. It was a little boy, his face serene yet demanding. She remembered that this was Glas, the Druid King. He gave her a
message, which she oddly couldn't remember hearing a voice for: "Get ready to come to the Druids, a wedding, a funeral, and a
birthing is to take place all very soon."
    She pushed the image away, and as it disappeared, she saw the curious face of the man she knew by the name of Liam
instead. Instead of idle talk, like she normally had in her dreams, he told her of more serious things. "You know about your
parents now, don't you, lass?" he asked, smiling warmly at her.
    She nodded, and asked him, "You knew all that time, didn't you?" for as long as she could remember, she had these
conversations with Liam, only he grew with her, aging as she did. Oddly enough, she didn't remember ever meeting Liam in
person.
    " 'A course I did, Gwen!" he said, and there was his mocking grin characteristic to him again.
    She didn't think that strange for some reason.
    "Well, now that means that you can do things, since you acknowledge that you can do it." he told her.
    Puzzled, she asked him, "What do you mean?"
    He shrugged, "Well, for one thing, you can wield magic, make any thing that you believe can come true." he whispered it, like
it was a sacred thing, a very secretive sacred thing.
    She laughed, "How can you do magic without learning it first?"
    His grin was impossibly wider. "You see, Gwen, any one can work magic if they only believe that they can. You don't need
skills, or classes... sometimes not even birth rights! Just that your mind *believes* that you can do it is enough."
    For her demonstration, he made a flower appear from no where. He tucked it behind her ear and just as soon as it was
there, it was gone. "Now, you try it." he commanded, urging her softly to do it, prodding gently.
    She shook her head, "That's nonsense magic. It has no real purpose." she made a sword, it's blade bare, appear in his open
hand. "That's more practical. But does it do any thing?" she asked him, wondering if he squeezed it too hard, would it break?
    He grinned, and wrapped his hand firmly around it. Since she hadn't imagined it staying, it disappeared. "You see, lass, it can
stay or disappear, at your will and call. You can do this since you are on of the Sidhe, who are blessed with unique talents and
abilities."
    She put two and two together. "Are you a Sidhe?" she asked finally, and he nodded slowly.
    "Aye. That's why you know who I am. That's why you dream about me." he looked at her, the grin wiped from his face. "It's
good that you recognize this, since I have to leave you. I was a fleeting little thing, barely a memory to most people, banned to
roam the earth learning as just a spirit until a material body was found for me to use the knowledge in. I was told that I have
about a moon left, then the child will be born and need a spirit. I will be the next Druid King, but until that happens..." he looked
at her, his expression soft. "I've loved you all your life, grown with you, nurturing your spirit as a parent would, only it has
turned to more than that. I need to see you just once before I leave, and I need you to know if you love me or not by then..." he
trailed off.
    Much to her annoyance, someone was calling her name, waking her. She tried to go back to sleep, go back to that state of
bliss she had while sleeping and dreaming... but she could not. Sighing, she climbed out of the warm bed out to the cold world.
Conor's head was poked in the cave, and he grinned at her. "Can I come in?" he asked, and she laughed.
    "C'mon, you're already half in here." he came in, and she self-consciously picked at the sleeve of her night tunic.
    "S'ok, you're more decent than I am when I sleep." he told her. (what's up with that grin of his?)
    And she wondered vaguely what he slept in, if it was less decent than her thin little night tunic. (ooh!)
    "What're ya doin', waking me up from a strange dream?" she demanded, grinning at him. She felt like a total fool, not being
about to stop grinning.
    "Was I in it?" he asked, and changed the subject. "Well, Gwennie... we're travelling to the Druids, I received a message from
Glas."
    She felt dizzy. (ye gods, my dream was right?)
    He noticed her face pale. "What's wrong, m'lass?" he asked, grabbing her hand, to support her lest she fall.
    She shook her head, not yet ready to tell him about her dream. "Nothing, really."
    "You sure?"
    "Of course. Don't worry about me, Conor. I'll live." she smiled at him, and would've led her out to eat breakfast, but she
reminded him that she hadn't dressed yet. "I'll meet you, later. Are we leaving today?"
    He nodded. "At noon." and he left. She put on her traveling clothes and packed her bag.

    And they left, that day, riding swiftly to the Druids, in order to get to them by the next full moon, which was only a few days
away. (great, we're off to see the wizards.)

    They arrived in due time, for Conor to talk to Glas. Glas looked at Gwen and smiled at her in anticipation. "This is Liam." he
said, motioning to a robed man behind her.
    Gwen was shocked. The man was everything like she had known in her dream, except she could really touch him, really feel
him! She smiled awkwardly, and Liam took her hands. "Gwen." he said, and smiled.
    Conor stared over at this new man, and saw how he captivated Gwen's attention. (hunh?) His heart dropped. (what's this
guy have that I don't?)
    Gwen walked off with Liam, to talk to him. Conor, on the other hand, was left to talk to Glas. "Well, we're here, like you
wanted. What's first?" he asked, sighing. Glas watched Conor's gaze, which was sending him on wings after Gwen.
    Glas shrugged, and motioned to Tully and Catlin, who were behind him. "First, there is a woman in this village who gives
birth to a child soon, and you would do well to meet her." he smiled serenely, like he knew something that they didn't and
mockingly wasn't going to tell them.
    Conor nodded impatiently, "And what is my task?" he sighed, and remembered something that someone had told him
before- that patience was a virtue that he needed to learn- and quick!
    The boy waited until Tully and Catlin were gone before he continued. "Well, I feel that for the people of the land to fully
appreciate where you're coming at, there must be a union between the land and the people, their leader and those of the
Druids. A novice." he smiled at them, and Fergus clapped Conor on the back, "Great lad, you're going to get married!"
    Conor smirked back at him. "Great."
    Fergus was ready to get this going, "When do we get to meet the lucky bride?"
    Glas smiled, "The wedding will be tonight, under the full moon."

    Gwen held Liam's hands, and she stopped on the path. "Liam, I can't do this." she told him, and he sighed, putting his hand
against her face.
    "Why not, Gwen?" (I've waited half of eternity for this, and what happens?)
    She looked away, towards the direction they came from. "I don't love you like you love me. I love someone else." she didn't
know it until she said it, but she knew it was true. (The queen of unrequited love, he loves another!)
    Liam heaved a great sigh. "It's that Conor lad you were walking beside, isn't it?" he asked, his voice a little harsh.
    "Aye." she said solemnly, turning away from him. She didn't want to be around him when he was mad at her. Especially
about this.
    (That lad is just out to get Immortals and such, isn't he? Gods favored my arse!) Liam shook his head, "It's fine, lass... if all
goes well, no one will remember me, any way..." he touched her cheek. "You'll know me by another name, another face, and
another time." Breathing deep, he said something that he knew he could get in big trouble for. "You'll know me as Keith some
day." he shrugged, and touched her face. "By then, we'll have nearly the same faces."
    Gwen shook her head, "I don't know..." she covered her face with her hands, not willing to let him see the tears that wanted
to come. "I think I love you yet, but I still love another..." she trailed off. "Good bye, Liam." she knew that his time was nearing,
she didn't want to be there when it ended.

    The night was coming slowly to a close. Almost night, some maidens led Conor to a room where they had him take his vest
off. A few began massaging his chest, while some spit in a bowl and broke eggs into it. They swished it around, promptly
moving the concoction to his hair. His senses finely tuned to the hands on his chest, he felt a softer touch there, and looked to
see Gwen's familiar face among those there. He was about to question when she put a finger to his lips. After they left, Conor's
eyes followed them, a ridiculous grin still on his face. He put the vest back on.
    "I don't know, Fergus, I might be changing my mind about this marriage thing!" he couldn't hear anything besides Fergus's
bold laughter. (I sure remember that little talk- day and night, he told me, day and night! But day and night with who?)

    Gwen sucked in the night air into her lungs, feeling the damp earth on her bare feet. Glas had asked her to be one of the
maidens that attended on Conor, then one of those holding up the fabric around his bride as she was presented to him.
    Sighing, she did her part, and was glad that she had a front row spot to seeing the expression on his face. He was starting to
get uncomfortable, and she watched as he swallowed, hard. Fergus saw who this was, and ran up to the girl, covering her up
with the fabrics. "What is every one looking at? That's my daughter!" he shouted, chasing people away. Gwen had forgotten
that Molly was Fergus's daughter.

    That night, Conor tried his best to hide his disappointment, talking to Gwen instead of his previously arranged engagements.

    She sighed when she came in, her hands running across the wrinkles in the priestess gown she was wearing. (I feel like I've
been up for days! I need some sleep!) She looked at Conor, who motioned for her to sit down. (he looks like his weight in
gold, though, I doubt he ever looks genuinely tired.) "You wanted to talk, Conor?" she asked, hopeful. Maybe he had
something important that he wanted to tell her. She remembered turning Liam down for him, and hoped he felt the same way...
(Liam is a chance in a life time, let's just hope I made the right choice!)
    He nodded. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?" he smiled at her. (that Liam... wonder what happened with him!) "If it's any of
my business... who is this Liam that you were so into?"
    She could tell that there was jealousy edged in his voice. "What about him?" she asked, uninterested. Trying so hard to
pretend that nothing was going on with him, but doing it all wrong.
    "What about him?? Gwen, you were practically falling down to see him when I last saw you and he in the same room!" he
exclaimed, then added, "And then, people say you were gone for a long time, Gwen, alone with him! Please say you didn't..."
    She was pleased at this and angered. "Why should it matter what I've done? You're not my keeper, Conor. I'm a grown
woman and I'll do what I want when I want to do it!" she stood up, and glared down at him.
    He stood up as well. "As your leader, I am responsible for what goes on. With you. Especially with you."
    She was disappointed. (why couldn't he just be concerned about me? maybe because he loves me?) "Why's that, Conor?
When did I become your personal concern? Nothing goes so wrong with me that I need you to care about what happens!" she
spat out before she could think about it.
    He crossed his arms, and said ever softly, "Since I started loving you, Gwennie, that's when." he looked a little hurt at the
words she had exchanged, though he hid it very well in a chiseled face and shielding eyes. You couldn't tell any thing about him
when he was shielding it.
    She was speechless. "You love me?" she asked, afraid to breathe. (What if this is just a dream? I don't want to wake up.)
    He nodded. "I love you. I don't know when I started it, but I know right now that if I had married another, I would've been
lost and crushed my life over." he reached for her hand.
    She smiled at him, and brought his hand to her face. "I love you too, Conor." she hadn't said those words before, not even in
her mind.
    He smiled back. The guarded expression in his eyes was at once gone. Bending down, he kissed her softly, then almost
jumped out of his skin as someone knocked on the door. "Coming." he called, and muttered a curse under his breath.
    She wanted to giggle, but was too caught in the wonder of his kiss to move or any thing. She watched him go to the door
and open it for Glas. "Aye?" he asked.
    Glas came in, and motioned for Conor to sit down. "I suppose it is fine for Gwen to hear this as well."
    Gwen was about to leave, but Conor grabbed her hand. "Stay." he whispered to her.
    The young boy began. "Even though Fergus interrupted things tonight, I still believe that this wedding should go on.
Tomorrow, there will be a smaller scale ceremony, and things will go on."
    Conor protested, "But..."
    He never got to finish. "Conor, this must happen. I know you have doubts, but this is as it should be." Glas told him, and
silently left the room as suddenly as he had come in.
    Gwen sighed, and turned to Conor. "There's no hope, now." she wanted to kick something, or better yet, to kill Molly!
    He shook his head roughly, "No, there's still hope. I'll get out of it. There's a way, and I'll find it." his brow furrowed for a
moment, and he grinned suddenly, "It was nice, though, to have you among those maidens massaging me..." A wicked grin
spread across his face.
    She laughed, and moved a hand to his curls, wrapping one around her finger. Silently, she closed her eyes and took a deep
breath, wanting to stay here forever in this moment.
    Distracted by her hands in his hair, his thoughts were erased. All he could think about in that one moment was her being so
close right now...
    "You know they'll come in and see what's going on if you don't return to the maidens soon, as one of them..." he whispered,
damning it. (why'd she have to do that, any way?) His body was beginning to ache again.
    "I know..." she sighed again, and trailed her hand down his face, across his lips.
    He drew in a breath, then caught her hand away. It took ever ounce of his self control not to seize her close for a kiss.
"Good night, my little Gwennie."
    She stole away from him.
    He threw himself down on the bed, covering his face with his hands. Ill timed, Fergus came in. "Hey, lad!" he called merrily,
sitting down on the bed beside him.
    Conor groaned and looked at him. "Wha', Fergus?" he asked, a pained expression on his face. He didn't want to sit up, as
his entire body ached.
    "Not happy to see me?" he looked hurt. "Well, I come in peace." he raised his arms beside him.
    Conor laughed lightly, and shrugged.
    "Well, I just saw who came out of here, and I came to talk about that same person." he said, and added quickly, "She's
crying, lad. What happened?"
    Alarmed, he sat up. "Crying?" A million things flew through his mind.
    Fergus nodded, "Sobbing, actually. She tried to hide it from me, but she's obviously pouring down tears. What did ya do?"
    Conor shook his head. "Nothing!" he said it a little too quickly.
    The older man looked at him suspiciously, "Are you sure? Conor, what's going on between you and Gwen?" he demanded.
    Conor shook his head, not yet ready to tell Fergus about his new found feelings.
    "Nothing. Nothing's happening." he stopped lying, and told him, muttering, "I love her."
    This came as no shock. "Are you sure about that?"
    "Aye."

    Gwen curled up in a tight ball on her bed with the maidens, wiping tears away from her face. She was so happy, so sad, and
so confused!
    Someone sat down at the edge of her bed. "What's wrong, Gwen?" It was Molly.
    "Nothing." she mumbled. (you're the woman destroying my life. No way I'll tell you!)
    Catlin sat down by her as well. "Gwen, something's wrong when you of all people cry. Is it Liam?"
    Gwen honestly shook her head.
    Catlin shooed Molly away, who went off to "wash her hair for the ceremony tomorrow." She sighed, and smoothed Gwen's
curls. "Molly told me that the wedding is still on. Is that part of the problem?" she asked, soothing her like she was her
daughter.
    Gwen nodded, and mumbled quietly, "I love him, and he loves me, and now Molly is the one spending her life with him."
    Catlin was finally confirmed of what she had thought all along. "I think that you'll find a way to be with him, Gwen. Besides,
you're better off without him. What's he have that Liam doesn't? I know you were close with him for a while..."
    Gwen stared up at her, blinking tears out of green eyes. "My heart." she placed a hand over the aching thing, and Catlin
shook her head, "C'mon, lass, it's not like he doesn't love you- he'd want you to be happy!"
    There was a shriek as some girl opened the door, "It's Conor!" she called, and ran off, as she was in her night gown and saw
herself unfit to be around him.
    He came in, and walked over to Gwen. Catlin stayed for a moment, just to make sure things were alright. "Did you know
that all these maidens aren't guarded?" he asked comically, trying to smile.
    Catlin patted a sword by her side. "That's what they gave me a sword for." she said, and motioned to a few other women
with similar weapons.
    Conor raised his hands to show he was weaponless. "I'm just here to make sure that Gwen's alright. Fergus said she was
crying."
    Catlin nodded, "She's fine, lad, I suggest that you leave before you get y'self in trouble."
    Conor made a pleading look. "Can I have a word with her? Just a few moments?"
    Catlin was sympathetic. "Make it quick."
    Conor sat down beside Gwen, and whispered, "I'd hold ya close and kiss ya, make it all better, but you're surrounded by
women who would tell my future wife, who would kill us both..." she smiled.
    "It's okay. Just you being here is enough for me."
    He smiled back at her. "Gwennie, I just had to check on you. Please don't cry. Smile!" he stood up, and winked at her,
leaving so that none of the posted guards could draw their swords and remove him using force.
    That night, she fell asleep smiling.

    The morning came a little too early for everyone's tastes. Gwen woke as Catlin roused them all. "C'mon, lass, it's time for ya
to get up!" she called, cheerily.
    "Why are you so cheery this morning? You didn't even sleep!" Catlin was really taking this guard position seriously!
    Catlin smiled at her. "I just am, Gwennie! One does a lot of thinking when one is sitting around doing nothing for a long time."
she laughed. "I thought of a million jokes to tell on the way back to the Sanctuary."
    Gwen rolled her eyes. "Aren't we so lucky?" she sighed. "Is the wedding still on today?"
    Catlin nodded solemnly. "Molly's already gone to bathe. Something's really wrong with her, that's her third time in the last
two days. I don't know about her... sometimes I really wonder!"
    She shrugged, "This is Conor we're talking about. Wouldn't you want to be nice and clean for him if you were the one
marrying him?"
    Catlin laughed, "When's that going to happen, Gwen? Between you 'n' Molly and the rest of Eire's women after his heart, I'm
sure that I can be spared from that particular fate."
    Gwen chuckled and threw a pillow at her.

    Liam sighed, and kicked the wall. He was leaning against it, the white robe hiding his identity from those talking. He listened
carefully, and heard their entire plan.
    "I can't believe that lout messed things up last night! We were going to be able to kill the Prince last night, too, and that
novice, and with them out of the way, then we could've gotten Glas. Diana needs him out of the way the most."
    (they're working for the Romans? I swear, how can a DRUID be turned by Diana's ways... that's unheard of!)
    "Well, you know we only have them all in the same room any way... it'll be easier. We can get away easier today. You ready
to throw the spear at the boy? I'll get a sword and get Conor, and that lass... Gwen. She's strange, we can't have her here, she
has more power than she should."
    (They're going after Gwen?) He was enraged, and swiftly went off to tell Glas, moving silently through the passage.

    Morning came and went. Gwen was informed that she would just be a normal member of Conor's party, and no longer a
priestess helping. Relieved, she could put her sword back around her waist. But, as she searched for it's location on into the
afternoon, she could not find the dratted thing.
    The ceremony was to be short and sweet, she knew that. She and the others wore the ceremonial robes, slipping in with the
other Druids. Conor waited patiently at the dais, stealing glances Gwen's way. Glas came in on a platform with Molly, and
everyone bowed low. Glas motioned for them to rise, and they all did, like puppets on a string.
    Liam was watching from the front row, hoping that his timing would be right to jump in front of a spear meant for someone.
(I'm going to leave today, even if my spirit just disappears...) He looked at those on the dais. (I'll die for everyone here- except
Conor.) Jealousy was bitter in him, a cold hatred for the prince.
    The first wave of attacks was stopped by Catlin. They tried to kill Conor and Glas with spears, but Catlin effectively used
her bow and they went down before they could be of any damage. There was chaos as soon as people realized that there were
murderers in the same room. Now, men came with swords, cutting down body guards bearing no weapons. Liam recognized at
once Gwen's blade, and went to go after it. What he had forgotten was that he did not bear any armor or a weapon, nor did he
have time to conjure any thing material up.
    He found himself staring at the blade before it stroked him in half. Fleetingly, he thought he would disappear. (What a way to
go- by my own beloved's sword...) Instead, however, he misted. And was sucked into the sword.
    This frightened the Druid to no end, who fled out of the room back to Diana who would surely find a use for a Druid that
wasn't a Druid.
    But, there was still another with a spear that they couldn't quite manage to prevent. And the spear was thrown, hitting Glas
square in the heart.

    There had been nothing they could do for him. The child that Catlin and Tully had been waiting for earlier was born shortly
after the attack, and Glas's spirit went into the young one.

    But, it was not over.
    Back at the Sanctuary, Conor and Fergus both still went over in their minds what had happened- had there been any way to
prevent this from happening? The scenario changed many times, but inevitably, it remained with the same ending. Which led
them up to about a moon later.
    Gwen and Conor were sitting alone outside, just content to sit there. Both were still armed, almost from paranoia. And
Gwen placed her hand on her weapon.
    There was a tug. Almost insistent, her weapon tugged at her! (What in the world?)
    (Gwen? Come now, surely you haven't forgotten your old friend Liam!)
    (Liam?? Where in the world are you?)
    (In your sword, genius. And I have a task for you that needs to be done.)
    (Oh joy. A talking sword. What sort of task?)
    (I'd've thought you would be grateful! You are to go on a quest. To learn about your parents.)

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