by Mia Pride
Just the feel of Liam’s arms wrapped around her small frame made her forget everything. Mayhap she was not supposed to marry Liam. But did that mean she couldn’t revel in his strength and affection in the moment? She had very few memories of her past, and those she had were filled with sadness and violence. And since her accident, the only moments of bliss she had experienced were within these strong arms now encasing her body. Could she pretend she had not heard the druid declare her need to marry a king? Mayhap the druid was wrong…a sudden burst of hope filled her heart at the thought. She nuzzled closer to Liam, inhaling of his rugged, earthly scent and dreaming of the wedding she hoped they would soon have.
“Today is Samhain, All Soul’s Day.” Abigael jumped in to her explanation of the night’s events and cut off Gwynneth’s wondering thoughts. “Your father visited me, as well. I suppose he had some unfinished business with all of us.” Liam was looking back and forth at all of them in confusion, still not understanding what happened during the night. Abigael looked over at him. “King Doran crossed through the veil to the world of the living last night. He had a very important message to send the lassies.”
She crossed her hands in front of herself as she continued, “On the night of Beltane, twenty years past, a little red haired lass was delivered to me by a druid. He told me she was one of the Three Sisters of Danu and the faeries had requested that I raise her as my own, without her ever knowing her true identity.” Abigael cleared her throat and looked over into Ceara’s eyes. “At first, I thought it would be quite simple, since I, too, did not know of her true birth parents. I had always wanted a child and was more than willing to love and protect this babe. I had heard the legend of the Three Sisters of Danu many times and knew she was a very special child.”
She reached out a hand to Ceara and affectionately squeezed her wrist as a tear twinkled in her eye. “Soon, however, I learned a little more about the child. A man showed up within a few moons asking to see her. A vision filled my mind and I saw him standing in front of the very same druid that had delivered Ceara to me, with tears in his eyes. I knew right away he was the father of the child. His name was Doran, King of Iverni.”
Abigail paused and shifted her eyes over to Gwynneth with a reassuring smile. “He told me all about the night his three daughters were born, the loss of his wife and the heartbreak he had been living with. We were two lonely people, and we became quite fond of one another over the years. I was, after all, raising one of his children and I believe very much that he felt an extra affection for my sacrifice, though, I never saw it as one.
“Years went by and Ceara grew. Doran was a powerful and busy man, also raising his daughter alone, so his visits were infrequent. But when he came, it was always very special and Ceara grew to love Doran very much as a father.”
Tears welled up in Ceara’s eyes as she remembered the fond memories of his visits. “He was my father, all along. I wish I had known.” She lowered her head and Gwynneth reached over to squeeze her arm in support.
“I wish I could have told you, mo leanbh, but I was forbidden. Not only by your father, but by the gods. Everything was meant to happen as it has, and the Sisters of Danu were not to find one another until the correct time. That time is now.” Gwynneth and Ceara looked carefully at each other’s face and Ceara bursts out laughing, as she tended to do during times of distress.
“I’m sorry. Tis just…I’m looking at you, and you look like me! And I didn’t even know it! Now I know what I look like…and I’m not disappointed!” She grabbed Gwynneth’s hand and they both laughed together at the irony of it all.
“I was so envious of your beauty when I first saw you, Ceara, even just now when Liam first saw you! I just starred at you like a ridiculous woman, yet, I was staring at myself!” Both women laughed harder as tears streamed down their faces.
Abigael was smiling proudly at both of the sisters as they bonded over their rare situation. Liam was looking at them both quizzically, completely spellbound by everything he was hearing. “The Sisters of Danu,” he said in awe. “I’ve heard the story many times, myself. That means there is another sister somewhere? And that explains why your father wanted to marry you to a king, since it is part of the prophecy.” His voice was slow and calm as he absorbed every detail. He was a king, only she did not know it yet. They were destined to be all along. He would tell her as soon as Abigael finished her story, he decided.
Gwynneth looked up at Liam with sorrow in her eyes. So, he had heard of this prophecy as well? She wondered if she had heard it before her accident. Liam said she needed to marry a king. “So, tis true,” she mumbled so quietly that nobody else seemed to hear. How could he say such a thing and not feel the same pain she felt? He seemed to feel no distress whatsoever and yet she felt as if she were dying inside. Was she capable of feeling happiness for more than a moment before someone tore it away from her?
Abigail grabbed the wrapped package she had brought over to the table and looked down at it as she began to speak, “Aye, there is one more daughter. And we need to find her, very soon. Patrick, the druid who delivered Ceara to me twenty years ago, is the same druid who found you in the ravine, Liam. He was on his way here, not only for Samhain, but he knew the sisters would be reunited on this day and he wished to speak with them tonight. He will tell the entire prophecy and more answers will come.”
She looked down at the package in her hand and ran her finger along the blue strings holding the folded yellow cloth together. “Speaking of tonight, I have something for you, Gwynn.” She held up the package with a smile and handed it to Gwynneth. Untying the string, Gwynn gently unfolded it and gasped. It was a soft yellow dress with a wide neckline and long billowing sleeves. Little flecks of gold sparkled in the hem line, like tiny fireflies sparkling in the reflection of the fire. She looked at it carefully, and remembered where she has seen it before.
“Abigael! Did you make this? Tis exactly like one I had several years ago. I wore it the day…” her voice trailed off and she turned to look at Liam. “I wore it the day I became handfast to Liam.” Remembering Patrick’s plea to her father, she looked away from him and stared at the beautiful dress, tears threatening to spill over.
With a warm smile, Abigael nodded her head, “Aye, I know, my dear. I made this for you, for tonight. You shall get married in it at the festivities!” Liam’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist in affection as he stared at Gwynneth’s profile, gauging her reaction. He tried to keep the absurd smile he felt forming from spreading across his face, but inside, he was exploding with anticipation. By tonight, she would be his wife. It would be the fruition of all of his dreams.
Ceara stood up and clapped her hands happily with excitement. “My sister is getting married tonight? Oh this is going to be wonderful!” Looking over at Gwynneth, she expected to see her glowing with happiness, but instead she saw her lips set in a firm line, chin quivering, and on the verge of tears.
Had everyone gone daft? Had they not just confirmed that she must marry a king? And yet Abigail presented her with this lovely, all though heartbreaking gift and Liam only smiled as if all was right with his world?
“This, this is so beautiful, and so very kind.” Gwynneth’s voice was soft, but shaky, and she ran her hands over the fabric as she admired Abigael’s work. “But, I cannot accept it…because I cannot marry Liam. I’m sorry.” Standing up quickly out of his lap, she handed the dress back to Abigael, without looking at Liam, and left the table.
Chapter 16
Liam felt his anger boiling over uncontrollably. He had had enough of Gwynneth’s poor treatment of him that morning. She had agreed to marry him only last night. Nay, she had ASKED him to marry her! By morning she had slapped him senseless, ran out on him, and now she decided not to marry him again…while she sat in his lap and nuzzled her sweet arse into his groin the entire time? Had her fall from the cliff made her daft? Gwynn had never been such a perplexing creature before recently.
Filled with p
ain, disappointment, and rage, Liam bolted onto his feet and over to Gwynneth, who was standing near the wall. She saw the fire blazing in his eyes as he stormed over and she flinched with fear. She pressed herself against the wall, trying to disappear from his view, knowing full well that it was of no use. Liam slammed his hands against the wall on either side of her body and leaned in close to her face, teeth clenching as he stared into her eyes with a mixture of passion and hatred.
“Why did you flinch? Do you think I would hit you? I’m. not. BAINE!” His body was heaving as he stared at her pinned against the wall, cowering in fear. He was much too angry to feel even a shred of guilt for frightening her. “You have made your choice, Gwynneth. I have done nothing but protect and care for you. I have done nothing but suffer the loss of you all these years. And now, on the very day that we can finally be married, you turn away from me?” He snorted in disgust. “Do as you wish, Gwynneth. I can nay longer waste my life waiting for you. I promised you I would let you choose, and you have.”
He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed heavily as he stared her down. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her for all the hurt she had caused him. Not just the hurt from today, but from all the years he waited for her, and watched her out of the corner of his eye, hoping she would finally choose him. She suffered in silence with Baine, but he could have helped her. She avoided him, his help, and his love. It seemed to be a habit of a lifetime for Gwynneth, and Liam could take no more.
Not having any words left to say, or any fight left in his body, he removed his arms from the wall, affectively freeing her from the confines of his rage. Turning away from her with disgust, he stormed out the door and slammed it with all his strength, shaking the house and leaving all three women in a state of shock, starring at the space he recently occupied.
Gwynneth’s shaken body slid down the wall into a lump on the floor, as she covered her face and sobbed. Abigael walked over to her and leaned down next to her, rubbing her back in soothing circles. Ceara was still silent, looking upon the aftermath of what had started as a wonderful day.
Several moments passed in silence. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and the heartbreaking cries escaping Gwynneth’s throat. Finally looking up from her hands, Gwynneth acknowledged Abigael, who was still sitting next to her on the floor. “I’m sorry about the dress, Abigael. It really is beautiful.”
Looking into Gwynneth’s red and swollen eyes, Abigael only shook her head with a frown. “I just don’t understand you, Gwynneth. You’ve loved Liam for half your lifetime. Why would you do that to him, so cruelly?”
Looking as if she had been struck across the face, Gwynneth flinched and her chin started to quiver again as new tears fell. “My father was told by the druid to make sure I married a k-king. My father spent years of his life watching me s-suffer in an abusive marriage, and gave away his other children, just so we could fulfill that prophecy. Now he is g-gone, and Baine was not selected to be king.” She sniffled loudly and wiped her running nose on her sleeve. “I cannot just go and marry out of love now. It would go against the prophecy and everything that my f-father sacrificed for.” She was fiddling nervously with her sleeves as she looked down toward the ground, tears free flowing from her face and landing in a soggy puddle on the knees of her white linen night dress.
Abigael’s face looked exasperated, not affectionate or sympathetic toward Gwynneth at all. She looked irritated and ready to shout. Instead, she breathed deeply and let out a long sigh. “You and Liam really need to work on your communication skills.” She allowed a small smile to spread across her face and tucked a hair behind Gwynn’s ear. “Come. We need to find him, now. You both have to talk.” Abigael stood up, stretched her back to release the pressure built up in her body from sitting on a hard earth-packed floor for several minutes, then put a hand out to help Gwynneth up.
As she stood, Gwynneth looked at her soaking night dress, now with translucent spots splattered where her tears had landed. Having no time to change, Gwynneth wrapped her woolen cloak around her neck tightly, pulled the hood over her head, and Abigael opened the door as a gush of wind forced it to swing open wide. All three women left the house, arm in arm, to find Liam.
Arriving home, Ceara walked through the door and saw her husband speaking in whispered tones to Duncan. Both men turned around and stared wildly at the three intruding women. Seeing his wife, Garreth stopped talking to Duncan and walked over to her swiftly, placing a sweet, affectionate kiss upon her forehead and smiling down at her. He had learned so much about her this morning as she told him about the dream of her father. She looked up to him lovingly, realizing her destiny had worked out as planned. She had married her king. Getting on her tiptoes, she placed a long soft kiss on his lips and smiled at him as he wrapped his large protective arms around her small waist and pulled her closer to his body.
Seeing the affection between Ceara and her husband, Gwynneth’s heart clenched as she scanned the room frantically, but she did not see Liam anywhere. Understanding the anxiety on her face, King Garreth cleared his throat and Duncan walked over to them. “Gwynneth, sister!” He came close to her and squeezed her against his body in a brotherly hug. “Welcome to the family. Quite a shock, although, seeing you next to Ceara when you first arrived was a greater shock, I must say.” He winked at her for emphasis. “But, my wife told me about her father’s visit, and now I understand…some of it. I am anxious to hear Patrick’s version at the festival.”
Gwynneth was listening politely while Garreth rambled, but her heart rate was increasing and her patience was wearing thin as every second passed that she couldn’t see Liam. “Thank you, Garreth.” Gwynneth said politely, but more so in an attempt to stop his chatter. “Duncan, where’s Liam?”
Duncan’s face darkened and he looked up at Garreth for moral support. Garreth just hugged his wife, shrugged, and dragged her away to the hearth in an attempt to gain more of her soft kisses, leaving Duncan alone with Gwynneth and Abigael. “Aye, well...” he scratched his head awkwardly, “He came over here angry, more enraged than I’ve ever seen him, actually. Something about waiting far too long for ye to choose him, something about ye still not choosing him…” Duncan wiggled his lower jaw, trying to think how to deliver the news best. “He…he left.”
Gwynneth’s eyes flew open and she let out a loud breath. “What? He left me? What do you mean, he left? Where has he gone?”
Duncan shrugged his wide shoulders awkwardly. “Home. Told me he could not bear to be near ye another day if he could not be your husband. Made me promise to stay with ye and help escort ye back to Iverni with a party of men on the morrow.”
Her heart plummeted and she could feel herself starting to swoon. “I came to explain to him! I DO want to marry Liam! I just can’t! I have to marry a king, tis in the prophecy…” her voice trailed off, as the hopelessness sunk in, causing her to slouch in defeat. A loud breath escaped her lungs, causing a wayward curl to flutter against her forehead.
She could not go back to Iverni knowing she couldn’t have Liam; she simply could not endure that pain again. But, she also could not stand to be in another loveless marriage. What sort of cruel destiny forced a woman to repeatedly marry men she did not love? Feeling flustered, she looked up at Abigael with clenched fists. “Abigael…what would happen if I refuse to marry a king? I simply cannot marry any other man!”
Before Abigael could respond, Duncan interrupted her, stepping closer to her. “Gwynneth,” Duncan said dryly, “ye do know who the King of Iverni is, don’t ye?” His eyebrows pressed together in frustration. Shaking her head slowly in confusion, she saw Duncan’s eyes widen as his eyebrows raised up even higher, encouraging her to think.
As realization dawned, she placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. “Liam?” He nodded his head in confirmation and she shook her head in denial. “Nay. How is that possible? Why didn’t he tell me?” she said with pain in her voice, “If he knew I needed to marr
y a king, why didn’t he just tell me?”
“The answer to that is easy enough, Gwynneth.” Abigael’s voice spoke for the first time since entering the house. “He wanted you to choose him of your own free will, because you love him and cannot imagine marrying another. Does whether he is king or not, really matter?” Abigael shrugged.
Gwynneth looked insulted by the insinuation. “You know very well that Liam is my choice for husband, nay matter what his status! I would marry Liam if he was a serf and homeless and we had to live in the woods!” her voice was increasing in volume as she rose to the bait.
“But, you didn’t. When the choice was yours, you chose to marry some unknown king from a prophecy, instead of your lifelong love.” Abigael’s voice was rational, not accusatory, but Gwynneth’s emotions were on high and everything sounded like an insult to her dignity.
“Only because my father said I have to marry a king! I was trying to do what the gods expected of me!” Her hands were in tights fists as she grabbed her hair and started to pace in anger. “I’ve only ever done what I was told to do! And all it has led to is my suffering!”
Abigael walked over to Gwynneth and placed her on a bench against the wall. “I understand, Gwynneth, and this is not your fault. Your father was the same as you. He saw the prophecy as rules to be followed and decisions to be made.” She was lightly running her fingers through Gwynneth’s hair. “Did you ever stop and think that the prophecy only tells what is destined to happen? Not what you have to MAKE happen?”
Gwynneth nervously chewed on her lower lip as she tried to remember the words the druid Patrick had said, “Gwynneth must marry a king. It is crucial.” His words didn’t sound as though they were up for suggestion, but perhaps he knew all along what her father had not; fate would steer her heart in the right direction.
“Liam is, and has always been, your destiny, Gwynneth.”