Chapter Text
February, 1745
Roughly six weeks after celebrating Yule, Christmas, and Hogmanay one right after the other, Life on Morgan’s Peak was fairly quiet and peaceful. All the Gold from King Louis XV that’d been brought to North Carolina’d long since been taken back to the Drow Realm, where Garran’d wasted no Time in melting it down. Most of it’d been repoured so it’d be in the form in ingots, just without the telltale fleur de Lis that’d originally been stamped on them, but part of it’d been turned into other things. In fact, some’d been poured so they could make coins that could be traded with all sortsa other races–including humanity–that’d be stamped right before they were actually used.
And true to his word, the Drow King’d shared the Secret of how to make his people’s special, exploding arrowheads with his nephew like he’d said he would. That Secret’d since been shared with the sons who were old enough to go anywhere near a forge, as well as Jamie–they were the only ones old enough to work the spells necessary to actually enchant the Diamond heads. But aside from them, only the Drow who made them for their own people kent the Secret of how to make such a devastating weapon.
However, one Day about a week after what their resident Pagans referred to as the Sabbat of Imbolc, the ginger lad was summoned to the barn for another foaling. Morna’d gone out to check on the Horses since she’d taken a liking to the Animals, now that she was able to spend more Time with them and not have to listen to her father bitching about her wanting to do anything more than mount up sidesaddle. When she’d entered said structure, she’d found that Saoirse’s mare was on the verge of delivering, but she seemed to be having trouble that she couldn’t help with. For that reason, she’d made her rounds of all the cabins and enlisted the aid of the first lad she could find since she was certain extra muscle’d be required. Thankfully, it turned out to be a good call on the lass’ part, ’cuz her quick thinking and action’d saved both mother and foal from a slow, painful Death.
Once the foal’d been safely delivered, the cousins’d been able to breathe a sigh of relief as much as the Mare, who’d instantly turned her attention to her newborn. But both were now filthy as a result of the foaling, which the ginger lad had been forced to enlist his cousin’s help with, even though that’d left her in nothing but her shift. They’d no choice but to head to the nearby Stream to wash up a bit, considering neither’d be allowed back in their homes, as bad as they stank at the moment. However, he didn’t realize that his younger cousin’d a bit of a plan in mind that’d leave him feeling more than a bit disturbed for a long while to come.
“Mmmph!” Jamie was more than a lil startled when he suddenly felt lips that didn’t belong to his wife on his own, a hand that didn’t belong to her or himself grab him through the front of his kilt.
“Mmm,” his cousin hummed, pressing herself closer to him.
Managing to break the kiss without hurting her, he lost his own balance and landed in the Stream with a splash! as he stumbled over a rock. “L-Lass–”
Morna’s face heated up, and she quickly averted her gaze as he slowly pushed himself up to his feet.
“I dinna ken yer meaning wi’ this, but…” The ginger man shook himself like a Dog, uncaring of whether he got her wet or not as he tried to decide whether he should be horrified, enraged, or both.
“Weel, this is how bedding a lass starts, aye?” she queried, gathering enough Courage to look back up at him.
“What!?” Jamie’s jaw dropped in shock. “Lass, ye’re me cousin–and I’ma marrit lad!”
“Jamie, please!” His cousin grabbed his sleeve as he started to storm past her. “I’ll never find a lad worthy of me hand up here in these Mountains, and before too much longer, I’ll be too old to wed!”
“Morna, ye’re a braw lass of four-and-ten,” he told her. “’Twill be a good while yet before ye’re too old to wed.”
Morna’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and he did his damnedest to ignore them without seeming too insensitive to her feelings.
“Besides, like I said, ye’re me cousin and I’ma marrit lad,” the ginger lad told her. “Even were I unattached, I wouldna bed ye–I prefer to no share blood wi’ any lass that comesta me bed like that.”
She clearly hadn’t been expecting such rejection, but also didn’t want him to see her cry as she whirled away to run back to the barn–which he easily stopped by gently grabbing her arm.
“Now, why d’ye think ye’ll never find a lad of yer own, lass?” Jamie queried.
“Ye ken damn weel that none in Woolam’s Creek’re worthy of me hand,” his cousin snapped. “They’re all too old, too poor, or there’s some other reason Mam’d disapprove of a match with any of them.”
“Mebbe the lads in Woolam’s Creek arena worthy of yer hand, but that doesna mean there’s no a lad somewhere who is,” he said, settling on a rock and pulling her down next to him.
“Mam’ll never lemme leave Morgan’s Peak to find out, and certainly no by meself,” Morna whimpered, fighting back a fresh round of tears.
“Ye wouldna have to leave Morgan’s Peak to find out, and ye’d just open yer eyes, lass.”
Startled, both cousins looked up just in Time to see Corbin seemingly appear outta nowhere, which made the ginger lad realize he’d used a Glamor so strong, even he couldn’t see through it.
Pushing away from the Tree he’d been leaning against, he bowed low over her hand before bothering to press a kissta her knuckles, which earned him an approving nod from Jamie. But he maintained a grip just tight enough to keep her from taking her hand back without hurting her as he looked her straight in the eye, looking almost like a black-haired version of his father in his seriousness.
The young Elf was no-nonsense as he told her that the only reason he hadn’t expressed any sorta interest in her was simply ’cuz she hadn’t expressed any in him, from what he could tell. He hadn’t wanted to earn himself a beating from at least her cousin, considering he was his own brother-in-law and he believed it better to stay on his good side. Not only that, but what Lachlan’d do to him after he’d incurred such a beating wouldn’t be worth it, considering he’d damn well been raised better than to force himself on a lass or otherwise harass one. And Gods forbid his mother should ever find out he’d done such a thing, ’cuz while few kent it, she was even more fierce than his father when dishing out punishment for such an infraction.
Having spoken his piece, Corbin pressed another kissta the lass’ knuckles before straightening, a smirk curving his lips as he told her that–whether her mother approved or not–setting her sights on her cousin was prolly one of her worst ideas. The ginger lad was hard-pressed not to laugh at how her face turned as red as her hair, but he Silently agreed with his young brother-in-law’s opinion. Not only that, but it gave him an idea for how he could deter her from making any other advances toward his person without causing his aunt to have a conniption.
“She did what!? Och, Jamie, lad–ye needn’t worry about yer cousin doing aught of the sort henceforth. I’ll take care of her punishment, even and it means chaining her to a wall before she does aught else stupid and ruins herself.”
Jamie couldn’t help a chuckle as his enraged aunt slapped her knitting needles down on the table next to her chair, barely avoiding upsetting the Candle that’d been set there to give her some extra Light. Thankfully, Morna’d simply decided to hide in the barn for the rest of the Day, her attention focused on their homestead’s new foal–which he didn’t blame her for in the slightest. No doubt she was absolutely humiliated that not only had he rejected her advances–which she shoulda kent was gonna happen right from the start–but said rejection’d been witnessed.
“Nay, Auntie–ye dinna need to punish her fer it,” he finally said after regaining Control of himself. “Aye, she shoulda kent better before she ever tried such a thing–but at least we both ken that I’m honorable enough to refuse, rather than take advantage of a lass thus.”
“Aye, that’s certainly true,” Jocasta agreed with a nod.
“Besides, I’ve an idea that should keep her outta trouble–and ye agree to it, of course,” the ginger lad told her.
“And what idea’s that?” she queried, her Curiosity piqued.
“Corbin witnessed Morna’s advance on me, although we didna ken it at first,” Jamie answered. “After he Revealed himself, he told us that the only reason he hadna expressed any interest in Morna was ’cuz she hadn’t seemed interested in him.”
His aunt’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly to form a small O of surprise.
“She’s worrit about finding a lad who’s actually worthy of her hand, ken,” he continued. “And ye ask me, Corbin’s certainly worthy of it–no to mention we already ken at least his parents fairly weel.”
“Aye, I suppose that’s true enough,” Jocasta mused. “I’d prefer that I ken him better, but he’s only been here for four months.”
“I willna say I disagree there,” the ginger lad admitted. “But in having gotten to ken Lachlan and Saoirse fairly well, we ken how they’d raise him since we ken how they raised Róisín and are raising Gabhan, Dubheasah, and Tierney.”
“That’s certainly true,” she sighed, her brow furrowing thoughtfully as she met his gaze. “Ye really think Corbin’s worthy of Morna’s hand, though, even though he’s as Pagan as Saoirse and the rest of his siblings?”
Nodding as he took and gently squeezed her hand, Jamie assured her that he thought the second of his three brothers-in-law was worthy of his lil cousin’s hand in handfasting and marriage alike. If he were completely honest with her–and he kent that she’d want him to be–he couldn’t readily think of anyone else he’d say that about, as far as this sorta matter went. There were far worse prospects, and the first person to top that particular list for him was Young Simon–who was the next he could think of that was closeta his cousin’s age and would prolly be one of the top picks for anyone else.
Scrunching her nose in open disgust, his aunt swore she’d lock her youngest daughter in a convent for the rest of her Life, if she’d to agree to her marrying Young Simon. Granted, she’d absolutely nothing against a man who bore the surname Fraser–she’d have argued her own sister’s marriage, if that’d been the case. There were just men who gave that surname a far better reputation, one of those men being the lad currently at her side and his father before him.
Having made her decision, Jocasta said that she’d speak with the younger lad as soon as mortally possible, even though she doubted she could do anything to actually scare him. That earned her a laugh from the ginger lad as he rose, then bent over her hand as he kissed her knuckles before heading out to track his brother-in-law down. All he’d hoped for when bringing Morna’s advancesta her attention was that he manage to save the lass from a beating dished out by Dougal on her deceased father’s behalf. Getting his way with the suggestion in suitor that he’d made was just a plus since he’d been well aware that she might disagree, if only from not wanting her daughter wed to a Pagan Elf.
But now, Jamie just hoped that this was the End of anything that could even remotely be described as troubling for a good, long while so he could enjoy his marriage and the Birth of his son in a few months’ Time.