I have done everything.Why am I still dreaming?
The silhouette turned against the orange, her dark hair billowing in the air, as if to face Ailith.
Still so much to do.Don’t be brash.You must learn which battles to fight.Stay on the path,Dream-Eladon said.I’m coming.
Coming?Why was her Dream-Eladon coming to her?What did she want?
In her dream, Ailith opened her mouth to ask, but the black silhouette faded into the orange, which then faded into black.Ailith’s dream mind tried to chase it, to ask why she was coming or what was needed of her now, but it was gone.
Nestled in William’s warm embrace, she had no more dreams.
Ailith perched on the edge of a wooden chair at the table in her chambers that morning, trying to write with the ink and quill.It was more difficult than it looked in movies and on television.Ailith cursed as the ink splattered into a brownish-black mess.
Though she had apologizedagainto William that morning and swore not to engage in a fight that wasn’t directly saving her own life, she was still unnerved about both the battle and their conversation.
He had admitted it wasn’t just the fighting, but everything else between the Morays – and now the Keiths – that gave him concern.He also worried that others might challenge her out of spite.
What happens if I cannae protect ye?he had asked in an exasperated tone.
Ailith had to admit these were all valid concerns, ones she hadn’t fully thought out before coming to Teagan’s defense.
Ailith had sighed, curling into the lean hardness of his body before they rose with the day.After all she had put him through, he was still worried about protectingher.What had she, or rather her great-grandmother many times removed, done to deserve such devotion?Such love?
Maybe that was what Dream-Eladon had meant, letting William protect her.
At that moment, Ailith had vowed to do better.To keep his concerns in mind and not jump to fighting unless it was theonlyoption available to her.
And this time, she meant theonlyoption.
In the back of her mind, with Teagan’s abduction by the Keiths, Ailith knew she did have other options, including doing what the young man had done and seeking out William.
Her defense of Teagan had been almost automatic.Almost.Thoughts of what might happen had briefly crossed her mind before her martial arts training kicked in.She was a modern woman under the guise of a Medieval woman – a woman raised to stand up for herself.Her dad had raised her not to rely on anyone.
Thatwas going to be the more difficult task, learning to rely on William so much.Luckily, with every single word and deed, William had shown her that she could indeed rely on this man in a way she had not known possible.
Ailith rubbed at an ink stain on her hand as she thought about William.As happened more and more as of late, a shivery thrill coursed up her body when her mind turned to him.What was this type of love?Absolute commitment, pure sacrifice, unconditional love – did such a thing exist in her time?Not that she had ever seen.
In fact, the only thing more difficult than keeping her promise to William was trying to make this quill work.She shook the tip again, spraying more black dots everywhere.William had notched it to a fine point with hissgian-dubh,but she couldn’t get the hang of it.Her poor parchment, rather than a neat list of mushroom locations, was a mess of ink splatters and specks, like some medieval Rorschach test.
She flicked her eyes to the edge of the table.Three more curling parchments rested within reach, but it wasn’t like she could run out to the corner store and buy more.Those parchments, though they had seemed ample enough when William had purchased them, now seemed more valuable as she stained this one beyond oblivion.
Maybe she could use the back if the ink hadn’t sunk through ...
A knock sounded at the door, and as she spun in her seat, Muire and Sine’s faces peeked in.Ailith set her quill to the side and jabbed the topper onto the ink pot.She’d deal with that mess later.
“Are we disturbing ye, Ailith?”Muire asked as she leaned in.
Her rich, golden-brown hair was plaited neatly around her head.Sine’s blonde hair was loose, held back by thin locks at her temples with a bright scrap of cloth.
Ailith shook her head as she rose, wiping her ink-stained fingers on a cloth.“Nay, I was merely, uh –”
Should she tell Muire what she was writing?Or would that be another thing that others considered odd?
Well, it was too late to hide it.They could see she’d been wrestling with the quill.The inky mess was everywhere.
“I am taking notes, or rather, trying.I fear my quill is no’ tipped right.”
Sine moved to the table.Ailith pursed her lips and reached out to stop her, but what excuse might she give?Don’t look at my writing?
