Deirdre stormed into the castle throne room, her father walking behind her, flailing his arms wildly.
"Really, Deirdre, you should be thinking of taking a husband. I won't be around forever, and you need a support system to rule until you are strong enough. You are well past the age of marriage, and it's time to choose." he spoke, attempting to rationalize with the young woman. His only response was further stomping from his daughter. She clenched her hands into tight fists in an attempt to control her anger.
"I will not choose, Father. Every prince you have brought to me is arrogant and worthless. I will not share our kingdom like that." she spoke in a measured voice. Her father did not acknowledge her attempts, however, and continued the conversation. Neither had noticed the three men standing in the doorway.
"But, princess, please... there must be some prince out there for you. You must marry, and it must be soon. You are well past age. Please..." the king resorted to begging. Deirdre growled low in her throat with anger and turned towards her father, her blue dress billowing out beside her to left and right. The anger surged through her body, igniting her eyes with flames.
"NO! I will not choose! I do not want to be married!" she screamed. Her father stepped back a few paces at the outburst. Deirdre had not yelled like that in quite awhile, and he had no idea he had angered her so much. The three men in the door finally decided to make their presence known. Ivar cleared his throat while Angus coughed a bit. Rohan focused on the princess and walked slowly towards her, with measured paces. She was fuming, staring at her father, not seeing anything but his trembling figure. Her body shook with the effort to calm herself down, her heavy breaths causing her chest to rise and fall steadily under the tight bodice. Rohan's boots made no sound on the stone floor of the throne room. Deirdre had no idea he was there until he delicately placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her away from her father. Her vision suddenly broadened to encompass the whole room and she looked upon the other figures in the doorway with embarrassment. The King had collected himself and stood tall as soon as he heard Ivar and Angus. Angus raised the wicker basket in his hands and nodded his head towards the hallway behind him. Ivar simply watched the princess as she remembered the planned picnic for that afternoon.
"Come now, Deirdre. The cooks have made us a good lunch. I know of a nice little spot in the woods to eat. Let's go." Rohan spoke from beside the princess, placing one hand on the small of her back and slightly pushing, directing her out the door. She relented at his touch, melting inside but remaining cool and confidant on the outside.
"I'm sorry, let's go." she said, a smile creeping it's way across her face. Rohan left his hand on her back, adapting a smile to match hers. Angus and Ivar waited for the two to reach them before falling into step beside them. The king simply collapsed onto his throne and sighed, unsure of what to do with his unruly daughter.
Reaching the previously picked spot, the four friends made themselves comfortable on the soft grass before breaking out the food in the basket. After a few moments of eating in silence, Angus finally spoke up.
"Deirdre, what were you and your father arguing about, exactly?" he questioned through a mouthful of apple. Rohan kicked him as best he could. The kick was rather ineffective, however, as Rohan was laying on the ground, propped up on one elbow. Ivar nudged Angus with his elbow and gave a stern look.
"What? I just want to know what was so wrong. A princess doesn't get that angry for nothing, you know." he defended himself against his two best friends.
"It's all right, really. I'd like to talk about it. Maybe you three will see my rationalization. It all started this morning over breakfast, asking about this man and that. All day he's been pestering me about it. For the past week he's been introducing me to princes from neighboring kingdoms. He wants me to get married and soon. He's been making suggestions for weeks. Married, can you imagine that? Me, married, now... it's unthinkable!" she ranted. She bit furiously into her piece of bread. Ivar sat, contemplating what the princess had just said before responding.
"Princess, perhaps your father is right. You are well past marrying age, and I'm sure the King would like to see some grandchildren. It might be a good idea, diplomatically speaking, for you to marry a prince from a bordering kingdom, as your father has suggested." Ivar attempted to rationalize with the young woman. A curiously mischievous grin crossed Deirdre's face as she released a tidbit of information from the argument.
"Once he ran out of princes from around here, Father suggested I marry you, Ivar." she grinned widely, amused at the befuddled reactions she received. Rohan looked down to the grass, seeming not to care. Ivar's mouth dropped. Angus began to choke on a piece of his apple at Deirdre's comment.
"Him?" he asked in amazement and jealousy.
"Me? Perhaps it's a good idea you stay single, Princess." Ivar spoke once recovered from the initial shock. His mouth had hung open for a few minutes after the passing comment. Rohan remained silent for a minute, laughing at the lot of them as they discussed Deirdre's marital status. He remained stretched out on the grass underneath the shade of a large tree, laughing heartily. Ivar and Angus looked accusingly at him while Deirdre joined in with a few small giggles.
"And what, Mr. Draganta, is so funny?" Angus asked in a snide voice.
"Oh nothing." Rohan whistled through his laughter. He calmed down a bit, letting the laughter slow.
"Yes, I'm with Angus. What is so funny?" Ivar agreed with Angus. The tall, dark haired man nodded thanks through his nearly finished apple.
"Very well. It's just... Deirdre, marrying you, Ivar, is a rather humorous situation. Deirdre marrying anybody is a bit funny to me." Rohan explained, hoping his friends would see the humor he did.
"Excuse me? Me marrying is funny to you? Do you think I couldn't get anybody to marry me, because I've had plenty of offers." Deirdre defended what she took to be a rude remark.
"No, I didn't mean that." Rohan was quick to jump to his defense.
"Explain then. I'd like to hear this." Angus spoke up. He had been silent for a few moments, looking between the princess and the leader of the Mystic Knights.
"I didn't say the princess had to stay single. I just can't see her married, that's all. Not to any of those snotty princes that have come calling before. It's not as if there is a law saying she can't be courted. I just don't see her sharing her kingdom. Frankly, if I were to marry you, Deirdre, I wouldn't want to share the kingdom... I wouldn't want the kingdom at all." He finally brought out his logic. Deirdre and Rohan stared at each other for a few minutes, their eyes wagering a silent battle for complete understanding. Her bright green eyes found the explanation in his soft blue eyes and she nodded, her firey red hair waving in the wind.
"Oh, I get it. Rohan is saying that men can court you, he just can't see you married to any of them. I see it now. What about Mystic Knights? You could marry one of us." Angus spoke up, finally understanding what his best friend was saying. Ivar sat in silent contemplation, running through a list of men in his head, mentally pairing them with the princess.
"I see Rohan's point also. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. Yes, Angus, I suppose I could marry one of you." She spoke up, patting Angus on the knee. He smiled slyly, a plan forming in his head already to find a way to court the princess. Ivar smiled, confusing his three friends.
"Now what amuses you, Ivar?" Rohan asked, lying flat on his back now, poking his dishwater blond head into the sunlight. It's rays glinted off his wavy hair and made it shine like strands of a spider's web. A few strands of red could be picked up if the sun shone just right on his long locks.
"I just thought of somebody who would be perfect with the Princess." the young black man spoke up.
"Who?" Deirdre asked with more than slight curiosity in her voice. Angus perked up his ears, giving his full attention to Ivar. His eyes, every bit as blue as Rohan's, shone with the same curiosity as Deirdre's.
"Well, I was thinking about it, and not only do they look good together, but they have so much in common. They would be perfect for each other. Deirdre and..." he spoke, his chocolate brown eyes full of excitement with the proposition. He was cut off, however, while attempting to drag out the suspense. Aideen had flown to them, babbling in excitement and anticipation.
"Rohan, Angus, everybody! You need to get back to the castle now! Cathbad has some big news. Hurry up, no time to talk, get back now!" she squealed in her high pitched fairy voice, flying farther and farther with every word in hopes to drag the Mystic Knights behind her. They rose in one fluid motion, never giving Ivar a chance to finish his thought. All four of them ran behind Aideen back towards the castle, each wondering what the news was.
They situated themselves at a long table in the meeting room, looking from the mighty Druid to the King, taking his place at the head. There was only that small group of six around the table, and they crowded in close to hear Cathbad's words.
"Mystic Knights, I have been in contact with myself from the future. Rohan and Angus could be in great danger, and if they fall, all of Kells falls with them." A buzz of concern ran through the room, and Angus and Rohan stared at each other, fear written in their blue eyes.
"Now wait, let me explain everything. The danger can and will be stopped. Somehow, in the future, I can control time travel in moderate use. So can Queen Maeve. She has sent her Torc to this time with the orders to kill Rohan and Angus, knowing their deaths would tear apart the Mystic Knights and Kells. He uses a fighting style different than any of this time know. That is the only difference between our Torc and the future Torc. My future self, however, is sending back a warrior, one who is a master of the fighting style Torc will use and skilled in fighting him. Once this warrior arrives, he will keep constant company with Rohan and Angus when possible, and watch for the future Torc. He will not battle our Torc, but only challenge the one he is skilled at fighting." Cathbad told his tale, giving all information he had received from his brief discussion with his future self.
"Tonight and after this warrior arrives, Rohan and Angus will be staying in the castle once again. You two may take the empty rooms down the hall from my daughters room. Ivar, there may be some danger to your life as well, if the future Torc cannot find Rohan and Angus. Watch your back." The King spoke from his seat at the head of the table. Deirdre looked from Rohan and Angus, scared for both. Ivar nodded his thanks to the King.
"When will this warrior arrive?" Rohan asked calmly. He was shaking with fear inside, but attempted to not betray his cool exterior with his voice.
"Tomorrow morning sometime. I suggest we all stay in the throne room until he arrives." Cathbad suggested wisely. Everybody nodded their agreement before the King spoke.
"I have ordered extra guards around the castle and extra patrols on the borders of Kells. Until tomorrow morning, take care." The King spoke, rising from his chair. The four Mystic Knights also stood, shock written over their faces. Angus and Rohan left to pack their belongings to prepare to move into the castle for awhile. Everybody was anticipating the new warrior.
"I wonder what he'll look like? I wonder if we already know him, but he's just a boy right now?" Deirdre wondered out loud as she paced the floor of the throne room. Ivar watched her pace back and forth, and had been doing so for nearly an hour.
"I don't care what he looks like or who he is, I just want to know when he'll get here. It's almost noon." Angus impatiently sputtered from the table. He was seated across from Rohan, the two not leaving each others side. To answer his impatience, a gust of wind swept through the room. All six inhabitants jumped and moved to stand in front of the swirling vortex near the door. They could clearly see the throne room of the castle from the middle of the circle, and could scarcely make out people around the swirling edges. Before much could be said or done, a person came tumbling through. The vortex quickly closed, not relinquishing any details of the future to the Mystic Knights, the king, or the mighty sorcerer. On the ground where the vortex had remained only seconds ago, was a small figure with long, light red hair pulled back into a half ponytail. The figure was dressed casually in cloth pants and a simple green shirt. She stood, turning around to face the small crowd in front of her. She was slowly rubbing her back, her face crinkled in frustration.
"For such a mighty sorcerer he sure couldn't give me a soft landing. Hrmph. Some all powerful man he is." she spoke quietly. She looked up at the six figures in front of her, her soft blue eyes growing wide. She couldn't have stood more than two and a half feet high and she was obviously no older than six or seven.
"Is this the mighty warrior?" Angus asked in confusion.
"Yeah, what of it?" the child asked, quick to defend herself. Her features hardened at the comment, no longer looking like an innocent child.
"This wee little thing is supposed to protect us?" Angus burst out again. He was getting frustrated and making sure everybody knew.
"I can handle more than I look like I could, Angus, so you hush up!" the child retorted back. Angus was a bit taken aback that the child knew his name, but he tried not to show it. Rohan simply looked at her curiously.
"Well, I suppose if she's it, then she's it. Let's start with names, shall we? What is your name, little girl?" Rohan asked, crouching down to be level with the child. His soft blue eyes met hers and he smiled. Her eyes flashed around the room before she rested her stony gaze upon him.
"My name is Morrigan. That is Sorcerer Cathbad, Prince Ivar, Angus, somebody I've never seen before, Queen Deirdre, and you are Rohan, the mighty warrior Draganta." she answered, not allowing for introductions.
"She's feisty. I'm King Conchabar. Did you just call my daughter Queen?" the King stepped forward at his daughter's name.
"Aye, I did. You are King Conchabar?" she asked in awe. Her eyes became wide again in wonder and amazement. Nobody quite knew why she was so fascinated with the king, but she seemed absolutely intrigued by him. She took a few excited steps toward him before slowly circling him. He stood still, moving his head and shoulders around to watch her. Deirdre was shocked, still trying to digest the information just given to her. She was to be Queen and, seeing as the child did not recognize the King, she was to rule for awhile before the child was born.
"How far in the future are you from?" Deirdre asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Ten years. I'm only seven though. Everything looks the same, except you lot. You look so different..." she spoke matter-of-factly, trailing off towards the end. She cast her eyes throughout the room, taking in every detail in a matter of seconds. Nobody had noticed the sword at her side until she rested her hand upon the hilt.
"Let's get the... um... child settled in a room, shall we? Then we can all sit down to eat something." Ivar spoke, always the voice of reason. Nothing shocking had been revealed about him, and he was still level headed. He watched Deirdre's eyes follow the child, wide in shock. Something about the manner of the girl was very familiar to the group of people, and the age in her eyes showed far older than a mere seven. Ivar and the King began to walk to the entrance to the throne room. Cathbad disappeared to his quarters above the throne room of the castle, presumably to contact the future and announce the safe arrival of their 'warrior'. Morrigan looked curiously at Deirdre, Rohan, and Angus before turning to follow Ivar and the King. Her soft blue eyes shone with sadness and pride all at once. Her features hardened before she turned to trot after Ivar and King Conchabar, falling in step behind them quickly.
"Hey, wait a minute? Where do you know me from?" Angus called out after her, patting the princess on the shoulder before jogging after the threesome. Rohan was just as curious as Angus, but remained behind in the throne room with the princess. They were now the only two souls there.
"Deirdre? Are you okay?" he asked, lightly touching her shoulder. She shook her head, moving her gaze from the spot the child had just occupied moments before over to Rohan standing next to her.
"Ten years... in ten years I'm Queen. In ten years I rule Kells. She didn't know my father and she's seven. Do you know what that means?" Deirdre asked, slowly lowering herself to sit on the bench at the nearby table.
"Yes. It means he died when the child was two years old or younger. That makes it..." Rohan began, watching the princess from a distance.
"Five years... maybe less." she finished for him. Her face fell once again at the realization of the short time her father had left.
"Well, at least you know now, so you can make the best of it." Rohan attempted to soften the situation. The other two Mystic Knights, the King, and the little girl once again entered the room. Deirdre plastered on a happy face and rose from her seated position, standing in front of Rohan to greet the new resident. She would not share the devastating information with her father. The child bounded in ahead of the three older men, climbing onto the benches with a smile spread across her face. Rohan couldn't help but smile at her. She certainly was an adorable little girl. She was so cute, in fact, that it was hard to believe she even knew how to fight and unthinkable to believe she was a warrior. Her red hair fell into her face and she carelessly brushed it back with a tiny hand. Angus continued his onslaught of questions from the door, only aggravating the child.
"Now, Angus. Give the child a rest. I doubt she wants to answer all these questions about herself. After all, she is a guest." Ivar spoke from behind the tall man. He casually strode into the room, taking a seat beside the little girl at the large oak table.
"And besides, Angus, she is here to save your butt." Deirdre spoke, still standing in front of Rohan. She smiled genuinely now, drawing strength from a seemingly endless reservoir inside her soul. Rohan gave her hand a slight squeeze from behind her back, hiding the contact from all the others. Deirdre used the courage that the simple gesture of affection gave her and sat down across from the child, striking up a conversation. The afternoon meal went much the same, with Deirdre and the child doing most of the talking, Angus sulking, and the others absorbed in the girls chatter. Shortly after the light meal was over, a soldier ran, breathless, into the throne room.
"My lord, Temra soldiers are attacking the border." he announced loudly. Within seconds, the four Mystic Knights clambered from the table and out the door. Young Morrigan followed closely behind. None of the Mystic Knights realized she was behind them until halfway towards the border. They each mounted a horse and rode out hard and fast, hoping to make the border skirmish in time to aid the Kells soldiers. Within a few minutes, they became suddenly aware of the small child behind them.
"Morrigan, go back to the castle. A battle is no place for a child." Rohan shouted back to her. She urged her horse on at a faster pace, moving up beside Rohan.
"I won't go. If there is a battle, I should be there. It's what I'm here for." she spoke loudly, hoping he would listen. Rohan signaled to his three friends to push on faster, and they all complied. Deirdre was the only one to look back as they passed Morrigan and her horse. She did not give up, however, and pushed on harder, falling behind the Mystic Knights, but still following them. They reached the battle quickly, dismounting and leaving the horses with tired and wounded soldiers. A large man sat steadily atop an equally large horse, watching the battle. Strands of his dark hair poked out from underneath his rams head helmet and waved lightly in the wind. He fought only when a soldier from Kells rushed at him. His sword was massive and strapped across his back for use only when he needed it. Every soldier that attempted to battle with the man died quickly.
"Torc! Give it up! We are here now, fight us!" Angus shouted over the sounds of metal striking metal, grunts, and cries of the injured and dying. The large man looked towards the Mystic Knights and laughed heartily. He clicked his tongue and his horse moved quickly towards the four warriors standing on the edges of the bloody battle. In unison, almost as if they knew exactly when the other would move, the four Mystic Knights raised their weapons above their heads.
"Fire within me!" Rohan shouted.
"Air above me!" Deirdre called out .
"Earth beneath me!" Angus bellowed.
"Water around me!" Ivar finished the call. The four warriors armor magically changed around them, and they were soon clad in the armor of the Mystic Knights. Rohan stood ready, muscles tensed to charge forward and fight. A small bundle of energy charged between the knights and stood in front of them. She wore no armor and, compared to the massive Torc, appeared much smaller than she already was.
"Let's make this a fair fight." She shouted at Torc, her eyes flashing with anger and hatred. Her sword was drawn and it shone bright in the sunlight, rays glinting off the sharp blade. Rohan and Angus both moved to draw the child back and away from the fight, but the words out of Torc's mouth following her arrival stopped both of them dead in their tracks.
"Ah ha. I understand now. I see Cathbad's plan. It's so good to see you again, my dear. We shall fight another day, and I will win this time. Until then, Princess Morrigan." He spoke, fear flashing in his eyes for a brief moment at the sight of the child. He rode off quickly, calling for a retreat from the Temra soldiers as he fled. They followed him, leaving behind many wounded and a few dead Kells soldiers. The four Mystic Knights dropped their armor and returned to their normal forms. Young Morrigan sheathed her sword and turned around, a smile on her face. When she saw the amazed and confused looks upon the faces of Rohan, Angus, Deirdre, and Ivar, however, she grew worried.
"I'm sorry. I know you told me to stay, but I am the only one who can beat him. That was the Torc from the future... you would have lost, and you would have died, and all of Kells would fall to Queen Maeve. Now do you believe me?" she asked sheepishly, staring down at the grass. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back and she twisted her body from side to side, kicking the grass slightly in anticipation of the lecture she was sure was coming.
"Yes, it's all right." Ivar was the first to speak up. At the words, Morrigan's head shot up, her eyes wide with hope. She smiled a wide grin, much like Angus' broad smile.
"He called you Princess Morrigan." Angus spoke up. He was trying to process the thoughts in his head, trying to make sense of the tidbits of information he was given. The gears were grinding, but the puzzle just wasn't coming together.
"Aye, he did." She spoke, her voice lowering considerably.
"So you are a princess, one who knows the land of Kells, one who knows the castle of Kells, one who knows the royal ways of Kells, and one who knows the enemies of Kells." Rohan said, walking to stand beside Angus in front of the child. She nodded, looking down at the green grass of the Irish countryside once again. Ivar put all the pieces together, worked out the timeline in his head, and came upon the only logical and plausible answer. The puzzle was complete.
"You are a princess of Kells. You are..." he said, looking back once he stood in line with Rohan and Angus. The child looked up at the three men standing in front of her. She knew what Ivar was about to say, and finished the sentence for him.
"The child of the Queen. I am..."
"My daughter." Deirdre announced loudly. She, too, had put together all the pieces of the puzzle to form an almost complete picture. The boys moved aside and allowed Deirdre to step forward. She looked down at the girl, and Morrigan looked up at her. Dark blue eyes met sky blue and all that was in either was love,
"Aye." was all Morrigan said. Around the small group of people, soldiers were tending to the wounded and cleaning up after the small battle. With all the movement and bustle going on around them, the five people only saw each other. Ivar snapped out of his trance and ran to gather the horses. Angus had been floored by the news, standing with his jaw open gazing from one girl to the other, and Rohan was staring intently at the child, studying ever feature, every gesture, every inch of her. Ivar came up with the horses and managed to break everybody from their trances. They rode back in silence, unsure of what to do next. The sun was setting on the Irish countryside behind them, casting orange and red streaks across the broad stretch of sky and rolling hills.
That night was a hard night. Morrigan woke from her sleep screaming. Within minutes, all four of the Mystic Knights were in her bedchambers, weapons drawn and ready to fight whatever troubled their little girl. They searched the room as she curled into a small ball on the bed. The large bed only dwarfed her already small size.
"For Lugh's sake, Morrigan, what's wrong?" Rohan asked, moving towards the crying child. Angus joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I had a nightmare. My mother and father... I went back, they didn't know me. I didn't exist to them. I tried to come back here, but none of you knew me either. I had nowhere to go. I didn't exist anywhere, yet I was everywhere. My mum and da... they didn't know me. They forgot who I was." she cried out, tears streaming down her face and onto her knees, which had been drawn tightly against her chest. Rohan reached out to touch her, but she scurried away from his outstretched hand. Angus shook his head at Rohan, warning him not to do it again. Ivar stood in the doorway, baffled as to what to do. He had never dealt with children really, and didn't have a clue as to what to do now. Deirdre stood behind the two men sitting on the bed.
"What can we do?" Angus asked Deirdre. Morrigan knew he wasn't talking to her, but spoke up anyway. She would do anything to feel safe in somebody's arms right now.
"I want my mother." was all she managed to whisper out through her tears. Rohan and Angus both rose as Deirdre slapped their shoulders. They moved away, leaving the room with Ivar as Deirdre sat on the edge of the bed and opened her arms. Morrigan looked at her for a minute with fear in her eyes and crawled to her mother, younger than she had ever known her. She sat with Deirdre rocking her back and forth and stroking her hair, whispering soothing words in her ear, and for once since arriving, Morrigan allowed herself to be a child. After that night, it became much easier for her to be a little girl around the Mystic Knights.
Days past, with Morrigan taking time to bond with each Mystic Knight on their own. She spent most of her time, however, with Deirdre and Angus. Torc and Maeve had not been heard from since the battle, and the Mystic Knights were glad of it. Rohan sat with Ivar on the steps leading to one of the high stone towers of the castle one bright afternoon. They looked down into the square at young Morrigan and Angus. They were running about, playing a rousing game of tag. He caught her and tackled her to the ground, tickling the child. Both were laughing hysterically, enjoying the good romp. Deirdre stood in one of the many doorways across the square from Ivar and Rohan.
"Morrigan sure does seem to like Angus a lot." Rohan spoke up, looking longingly from the child to Deirdre.
"That she does. She's spent many hours bonding with Deirdre as well. I think it's good that she spend time with her mother like they have." Ivar responded with a small laugh, looking at the two running around.
"Aye, it is. She looks a bit like Angus, don't you think? The same eyes, the same smile, the nose is very similar too." Rohan couldn't take his eyes off the child. There was a longing there that Ivar had never seen in the man. He seemed to want to be close to the girl, yet afraid of being near her.
"I suppose so. She looks too much like Deirdre though." Ivar answered Rohan's unasked question.
"Too much for what?" he feigned innocence, looking at the black man beside him.
"To determine who the father is. That was to be your next conversation topic, wasn't it? Rohan, if you really want to know, I think Angus might be the father, if only for the way she plays with him. I know he has been rather taken with the Princess for quite some time now, and has made several attempts to persuade her to his views with no such luck. I suspect, sometime in the future, he succeeds... or she simply gives in." Ivar answered, staring back at Rohan. Rohan nodded as his face fell, though he tried to hide it. He turned back to looking down upon the square, but his eyes no longer followed the child and Angus. They now burned intensely into the laughing figure of Deirdre.
"Ivar, you never finished your theory from the picnic. I'm still interested to hear what you have to say." Rohan spoke, still gazing at Deirdre with a passion behind his eyes.
"My theory? Oh yes, who I can see the Princess being courted by. Now, I don't suppose marriage is in the future for it, especially now, but it was a lovely thought." He spoke, moving to rise. Rohan caught him out of the corner of his eye and stopped the man by grasping his hand, all without taking his eyes off Deirdre.
"Tell me who, Ivar. Don't just leave. I just want to know who he was, no matter how little importance it is now, and no matter how inconceivable it may seem with this new... information." There was a determination in Rohan's voice. Something Ivar knew better than to try to fight with. Rohan was stubborn and tenacious, to the point it made a sane person want to scream. Ivar almost wished he was having the conversation with Angus. While Angus would hound somebody about a topic, he would often drop the subject after a few minutes of getting nowhere with whining. That, Ivar could handle. Rohan was another story entirely.
"It was you, Rohan." Ivar answered quietly while standing. He walked off slowly, watching the man he was proud to call friend. Rohan's head dropped, his blond curls falling in his face. He raised his eyes enough to stare at the Princess one more time, the passion and hurt behind them almost strong enough to burn holes through the stone walls. His gaze did not leave her, even as young Morrigan ran into her arms laughing and was toted away, through the halls of the castle Kells, hand in hand with Deirdre. Ivar shook his head and sighed before entering the castle.
"I'm sorry, old friend." he whispered, knowing Rohan wouldn't hear. With that, he entered the castle and was on his way, going about his business. He knew Rohan had been hurt terribly by the princess once, with Garrett. Garrett and Deirdre were betrothed, and she seemed more than willing to marry him, until his callousness and conceited ways shone through. Ivar went to his room, sad for his friend.
Rohan rose after a few moments, wiped the few tears he had silently let fall away from his cheeks, and entered the castle. He heard Deirdre and the King talking, once again, on marriage. He was not seen, and liking to keep it that way, made sure he was hidden behind a column.
"Deirdre, honey, if you don't want to be married, I can't force you. I do wish you'd reconsider though." King Conchobar practically begged. Deirdre knew what she wanted, and Rohan could tell by the tone of her voice, but she wanted to play with her father first.
"Well, Father, I don't know. I mean, I'd need somebody suitable, that I get along with, and I could see living with for the rest of my life. We'd need to be able to have children also, to ensure survival of our royal line in Kells. What if I didn't marry, but was courted instead?" she asked, toying with him. Her father nearly choked on his sweet nectar, making Rohan shake with silent laughter.
"Now Deirdre, to be courted would be well and good, but you couldn't have children from that. It just wouldn't be right. You would also need a suitable man to court you. You don't seem to approve of any princes, and frankly, the only one I had thought of before was Garrett, and he is most certainly out of the question." her father spoke, trying to get Deirdre to come up with her own plan. He had no idea she already had one.
"There are always the Mystic Knights. Ivar is not an option, and neither is Garrett. That leaves Rohan and Angus. What of them, Father?" she asked. Rohan frowned a bit, not liking that Angus was thrown in with his name, but listening on just the same.
"Angus may be a thief, but he is loyal to Kells, myself, and you. He seems to like children and would definatly shy away from the ruling side of the marriage. He's a steadfast friend and a confident warrior. He would be suitable to court you. Rohan... well now that is a puzzle. Rohan is loyal, but headstrong. He is a good warrior, but not confident in his battling. He's not bad with children, but Morrigan seems to shy away from him, while she runs directly to Angus. He also seems to enjoy his power over the Kells army. I fear he may try to take rule from you. No, I don't approve of Rohan. Angus would be fine, a bit wary, but fine. Rohan is not. I still think Ivar is the best, though." The King paced, working through his thoughts out loud. He knew Deirdre needed to hear his reasoning anyway, so it all worked out. Rohan frowned, not entirely sure of the sense behind the King's reasoning, but knowing the King's word was law, and Deirdre would never be allowed to be courted by him, much less married to him. He was entirely sure, at that moment, that Angus was Morrigan's father, and Deirdre would soon forget all about Rohan, running straight for the arms of his best friend. He trudged off, angry and depressed at the same time.
It was two days past, and Rohan and Morrigan were sparring in the center square of the castle. Rohan was losing sorely to the child, and it was obvious he was trying with all he had. She continued to jump and run, ducking between his legs and taking strikes he never could have expected. This had become the daily routine of the two people. This was also one of the only times Morrigan would spend time with Rohan. Ivar and Angus stood by watching, each cheering on a different person. Ivar was yelling for Rohan to pick up the pace and really fight, and Angus was screaming in delight as Morrigan once again beat Rohan. Shortly after she pulled his sword from him, taller than she was, and pinned him with her sword at his throat, Aideen came rushing to them.
"Rohan, Angus, Ivar, you must hurry! Deirdre's been captured by Mider!" Aideen screeched out as fast as she could. Four mouths dropped in shock and fear at the news. Ivar attempted to get more information from Aideen while Angus sat down hard on the steps. Rohan and Morrigan both charged for the throne room, Angus and Ivar quick to follow. They found Cathbad and King Conchobar working on a plan already. Ivar soon threw his logic onto the table.
"He'll take her to Torc... my Torc, I just know it. He'll kill her then, I'm sure." Morrigan sputtered out, pacing the floor. Rohan stood motionless, his eyes following the child. He fingered the hilt of his sword on his back.
"I'm going after her." He said, determined to save his princess.
"No, I'm going. I can beat Torc." Morrigan spoke, fingering the hilt of the sword at her side in the same manner Rohan had just touched his.
"You don't know that." He moved towards her.
"I beat you didn't I?" she spat at him, defiance in her voice. Her eyes challenged him to stop her. He took her up on that challenge.
"Yes, but I won't let you go. I won't risk any other lives but my own." He spat back, moving towards the door. She stood her ground and shouted at him, stopping him dead in his tracks.
"She's my mother!" the child cried out. Rohan turned around immediately, and spoke the words nobody expected, but confirming a suspicion of Ivar's.
"She's my beloved! I have loved her since the day I first laid eyes on her when we were barely older than you, and I'm NOT giving her up. I don't want to risk you either. I suppose this puts us at a crossroads, now doesn't it." Rohan didn't notice the shocked looks of those around him, but only stared intently at the steely blue eyes of the child in front of him. He walked to her, knelt to her level, and hugged her tight. She hugged back, cautious at first, but then as if she would never be able to hug him again.
"We'll both go. One fights, one gets my mother out of Maeve's castle." She spoke when finally breaking away from him. He stood, nodding in agreement, and led her to the door.
"No, wait, you can't just rush in there! Maeve will be expecting you." Ivar spoke up, always the voice of reason. Rohan just looked at the wise man.
"Then she'll be waiting. One way or another, Deirdre will return to the castle Kells alive. I promise you that." Rohan spoke. He had such a determined look about him that Ivar simply let him go. Morrigan stopped at the door and ran to hug Angus one more time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight, not getting any reaction from him. She looked at his blank eyes before trotting back to Rohan's side. They walked out of Kells castle, knowing it was a suicide mission.
"Beloved?" was all Angus could say. He stared into space, the shock written clearly on his face.
"Mother?" was all the King could say. He was just as shocked at Angus, and just as bad at hiding it.
"Well now, isn't that an interesting turn of events?" Cathbad laughed, watching the two men. Ivar soon joined in the merriment, but it wasn't wholeheartedly. He was afraid for the two devoted souls. Both had such a stubborn determination, he was sure they wouldn't come back until Deirdre was safely out of the castle. He knew they would fight to the death, and likely longer if they had to.
Rohan and Morrigan entered the Temra castle with little difficulty. It worried them, how easy it had been. Once they reached the holding cell, however, they realized just how hard it would be. Torc sat just outside the door of the cell, lounging comfortably on a chair. Inside the cell lay the princess, unconscious and bound by the hands to the wall.
"Torc, let her go." Rohan shouted, pointing his sword at the burly man.
"Hahaha! I don't take orders from you!" Torc laughed heartily.
"Give me a reason to kill you." Rohan rumbled deep in his throat, loud enough for Torc to hear, but low enough to be menacing.
"You couldn't beat me if you tried. That little one there, she's another story. Good to see you again, Princess Morrigan. I've been training. It shall be a good fight." Torc jeered, slowly lowering his chair to the ground. He pulled at his sword as another Torc entered the large room.
"Well well well, what do we have here? A Mystic Knight... how fun." he spoke from behind the sitting Torc.
"And what is this you've brought, Rohan? A child? You bring a mere child with you? Well now, she shall watch you die!" He charged Rohan, same as the other Torc charged Morrigan. They pulled swords, battling hard. Future Torc that had been sitting dug hard into Morrigan, but she would not be beaten. Rohan was having much the same problem with his Torc, but also, was too determined to save the princess to even allow death to come near him. After a long battle, a cry erupted as blood splattered the floor. Both raging battles ended quickly as one warrior died, falling to the ground with a sword impaled in his chest. Morrigan stepped forward and removed her sword, cleaning the thick red crimson liquid from it with the shirt of the now dead future Torc. The Torc Rohan had been battling fled quickly, looking at the child with fear and surprise in his eyes. Both warriors were covered in sweat from the fight, blood dotting both people, some their own, some their opponents. Morrigan collapsed, exhausted from the effort of the fight, nodding in the direction of the cage that held her mother, Rohan's beloved. He rushed to break the lock, kicking the heavy iron door open, while Morrigan took rest on the cold stone floor. Deirdre slowly began to regain consciousness. He rushed to her side as she came to, carefully cutting the ropes that bound her with a dagger, always kept in his boots for such occasions. She was freed before she was entirely aware of what was going on.
"Rohan! You came for me." she spoke, taking in her surroundings as the memories of the magic Mider played on her came flooding back. He held her tight against him, petting her hair with one hand.
"I almost lost you." he whispered. She was a bit confused at the affection, but not objecting at all. She enjoyed being in his strong arms, the warmth of his body radiating into hers. She pulled back a bit and looked him over, noticing the blood running down his forehead.
"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, fingering the wound delicately so as not to hurt him more.
"It's not bad. I can't even feel it. Come now, let's get out of here before Maeve or her soldiers come." He pulled her to her feet and they walked out of the cell, hand in hand.
"Where are the others?" Deirdre asked suddenly, just now noticing that Rohan was not only alone, but not in his Mystic armor.
"They stayed at the castle, not for want of helping. I wouldn't let them. Morrigan came... oh in the name of Lugh! Morrigan!" Rohan shouted, glancing around the room until he found her. The tiny frame of the child lay motionless, slumped against a wall in the corner, not far from where she had ended the trouble and killed the future Torc. He ran to her side, with Deirdre right behind him, and knelt in front of the small child. She was breathing, and seemingly unhurt, save a few minor flesh wounds.
"Oh, poor thing, she's exhausted. She's only sleeping. Don't wake her, Rohan." Deirdre whispered, standing behind Rohan. He looked up at her and nodded.
"I wasn't going to. I think, if I tried, I couldn't wake her. She's out cold." he whispered back, turning to the child once again. He carefully slid his hands under her, raising her slowly from the ground and collecting her in his arms. The sleeping child instinctively snuggled against his chest, drawing herself to the warmth of his body. He held her close as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, sighing in her sleep. Deirdre watched it all with a smile on her face. Rohan looked down at the child in his arms with affection and love in his eyes. He knew she was Angus' child, but right now, he didn't care. Deirdre jumped to his side and kissed him deep on the lips.
"What brought that on?" he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Nothing. Just that I love you, is all." she smiled, leading the way out of Maeve's castle. Rohan followed, shifting the weight of the child in his arms.
They arrived at the castle to hear Angus ranting from the throne room. Morrigan began to wake up, feeling refreshed and safe in somebody's arms, though she wasn't sure who's.
"Beloved? What did he mean by that?" Angus shouted. Deirdre looked at Rohan as the angry words reached their ears.
"I let it slip." He answered her accusations. She held her head high and almost marched into the throne room, to be met by four happy faces.
"Deirdre!" Her father called, rushing to embrace her. She hugged him back, and met the rest of the inhabitants of the room with a smile.
"Princess, it's good to have you back." Ivar spoke, also embracing her in a friendly hug. Angus did the same, picking her up and swinging her in circles. Rohan carefully set down the now fully awake Morrigan. They met Angus and Ivar with smiles and hugs. After the happy reunions were over with, Angus confronted Rohan and Deirdre.
"What is this, Rohan, that you say? When you left, after you and Morrigan were arguing, you said she was your beloved. What do you mean?" He asked, confusion flashing in his eyes more than anger.
"I mean what I said. Secretly... for the past few months, Deirdre and I have been... well... she is my beloved. Picnics, trips to the ocean, I've been courting her." Rohan spoke, pulling Deirdre close to him. She wasn't quite used to the open affection, but she didn't shy away from it. She glanced at her father, and he stared down at her disapprovingly.
"If you love him, I won't ban you from seeing him, but I do not approve of this, daughter. I'm just glad to have you back." King Conchobar spoke, looking down upon Rohan. The Mystic Knight shied away from the beady eyes of the King. Angus now sat at the table, Morrigan on his lap. He began to speak again of Rohan and Deirdre, wanting to have his questions answered, but the King interrupted him.
"None of that. I want to know what this 'she's my mother' business is." Everybody looked to Ivar to explain it.
"Well, Sir, future Torc called Morrigan 'Princess Morrigan'. She knew the way of Kells royalty, the land of Kells, and everything about the castle. She looks so much like Princess Deirdre as well. Not only is she a princess of Kells, but she is the future daughter of the future Queen, your daughter, the Princess Deirdre. We have yet to figure out who the father is, and she won't talk. The years all work out, m'lord." Ivar explained. Morrigan looked at her hands sheepishly, knowing that not saying anything was the safest bet, but feeling bad for withholding information from her friends and family. Angus seemed confident that he was the father.
"We have made guesses, your highness." he said, flashing a quirky smile at Deirdre. She looked down her nose at him, moving towards him, but only to talk with Morrigan. Cathbad stopped the conversation with his question.
"We know you were successful, but just how successful were you two?" he asked, looking hopefully from Rohan to Morrigan. She stopped conversation with Deirdre and climbed off Angus' lap, slowly making her way away from the crowd of people.
"As successful as we'll get. Torc is dead. I've killed him." she said, her face falling. It was not the first time she had killed, but it never got any easier, even if she was killing pure evil. All of the Mystic Knights understood exactly what she meant.
"I'll go gather my things now. The portal should be opening soon." she mumbled, running out of the room. She came back, a few minutes later, in a bright purple dress. Silver knots were embroidered along the neckline, the sleeves, and the sides of the dress. Starting at the chest and making it's way down to the middle of the flowing bottom was a brilliant silver Celtic cross. She dropped her small bag of borrowed clothes, her sword clattering to the ground with it.
"This was on my bed. Who... who made it for me?" she asked, fingering the delicate embroidery. Deirdre smiled and stepped forward as the men all marveled at the handiwork.
"I did. I sat up nights sometimes, stitching it. I sat up listening, in case you had nightmares again. I... I thought purple would be your best color. I see it suits you well." she smiled nervously.
"It's beautiful. I adore it. Thank you." was all Morrigan could say before running to hug Deirdre. A gush of wind circled the room quickly and everybody turned to see a large round portal open exactly where it had before.
"Cathbad, thanks for everything. King Conchobar, I'm glad I was finally able to meet my grandfather. You are a great man, and a great king. Ivar, you kept your head. Keep it that way. Keep those two ruffians in line. Angus, you've been my friend, my confidant, and my playmate. I appreciate it all. You aren't any different from the Angus of my time. Deirdre, thank you for being my mother, even though you aren't yet and you didn't have to be. Rohan, thank you for being you. All of you, I thank ye for taking care of me. I know my mother and father would say the same." She hugged each person in turn, not wanting to let go, but knowing she had to. She walked to her small bag and sword and gathered them together, ready to walk through the portal. Two figures appeared on the other side. One was a much older Cathbad. He did not speak, but simply nodded at figures of the past. The second was a female of average height with deep blue eyes. She wore a long blue dress, and her long red hair was tied fashionably underneath a crown.
"Mum!" Morrigan called out, taking a few steps towards the portal. She stopped after throwing her bag and sword through. Turning, she looked at each friend from the past in turn.
"I'm sorry. I avoided my father here. I was afraid. It hurt too much to know that, despite how close we are, he didn't know who I was. I kept away from him as much as possible, but it wasn't easy. I'm sorry." she said, her eyes beginning to glow and shine in the soft blue they were meant to be seen as. She let emotion sweep over her as her mother spoke.
"I wanted to thank all of you, for looking after my little girl. She is the future of Kells, and it looks to be bright. You have protected more than you can ever know." Queen Deirdre looked at her past curiously, as the younger princess Deirdre studied her future self astutely. Morrigan darted her eyes about the room through the portal. She frowned before stepping a few paces back.
"Mum, where's Da?" she asked cautiously, hoping nothing bad had happened while she was away. Her mother smiled.
"No worries, little one. He's on his way. I hear him coming down the hallway now." she turned towards the door to the throne room. On Morrigan's side of the portal, the six inhabitants formed a line. Cathbad took the end near the table, leaning on it for support. King Conchobar stood next to him, admiring how powerful his daughter looked. She looked to be a better Queen than he was King. Ivar watched the swirling edges of the portal in fascination. Angus was next in line, looking happily at the future Deirdre, sure he was going to marry her. He could even make out the claddagh ring on her finger. Rohan stood next to his best friend, looking sadly at Morrigan. Deirdre leaned against him, one arm around his waist. She looked intermittently between her future self and her future daughter. Morrigan watched the doorway expectantly, afraid to enter the portal. Three men stepped through the doorway. Ivar stood first, clad entirely in blue. He looked very handsome with his hair longer and slicked back. Angus was in the middle, his black hair pulled back into a modest ponytail. He jokingly punched Ivar in the shoulder. He didn't look much older than the version of himself across the portal. Rohan was last in line, dressed casually in a modest red tunic, baggy tan pants, with brown rawhide moccasins covering his feet. Morrigan's eyes grew wide and a smile reached the very corners of her eyes. Nobody had ever seen her smile as wide and as honestly.
"Da!" she called out. The three men in the doorway all turned and looked at the child across the vortex. The six people in line waited to see who responded, most sure it would be Angus. Morrigan's father bent down and held his arms open wide. Morrigan bolted through the vortex and straight into her father's arms. He held her tight and stood up. Her legs dangled far off the ground, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Instead, she clung to him as if she would never get the chance to do it again. Six shocked people watched as the portal to the future closed, taking with it the answer to the question that had plagued their minds for many days. Morrigan had run directly into the arms of her father, the person least expected by the small group. She had run directly into the arms of the future Rohan.
