[M] The Adventures of Little John and the Siblings Balloch

[The Lifted Lorax]

[Rated M for alcohol brewing and consumption, possible inappropriate innuendos, fighting, potential vengeful massacres, and also just in case]

[Parallel AU thread to Lox's Robin Hood RP (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=33885), if you want to follow this story from beginning to end.]



Morning. Fenny knew it was morning from the noise outside and the sunlight behind her eyelids that had sneaked in through the cracks. She didn't have to get up...did she? No. Surely not. But then who would find Hamish for her?

"Mmmarrrruuugh!" She stretched and rubbed her eyes with her fists like a sleepy child. Sighing, Fenny finally opened her eyes and blinked at the light coming through the slats in the wagon sides. Uncurling her legs, she stretched them out spreading her toes and arching her back before relaxing again. "Mornen." She pulled the blanket back up under her chin and smiled at Little John. She could definitely get used to waking up this way. Snuggling back down she cuddled closer, not wanting to get up now that she'd forced her eyes open.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John smiled down at her. "Good morning," he replied, making sure to turn away a bit. Nothing ruined a good morning faster than an ucky mouth, and though he didn't know for sure if he had one, he didn't want to offend her on their first sunrise together. "I suppose we'd better find our way out of here before anyone comes looking for us."

Her arms were warm and inviting, though, and her hair seemed to have a mind of it's own. He drew his fingers through the curls, watching them pop back into place when they left his fingers. "God must like to smile, seeing as he's made your hair so delightful. Do you think our children will have hair like this?" He sincerely hoped so.

Then the reality of it struck him. "You...you didn't change your mind, did you?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny smiled as she felt Little John playing with her hair. Hamish tugged at it plenty, good-naturedly of course, but she couldn't remember the last time somebody had actually played with it. She was suddenly self-conscious that it was so tangled and there were still bits of leaves and twigs. She felt certain now that her scalp was covered with dirt. She hadn't had a bath in a good while, a hot bath in even longer. She must be disgusting. The smile came back, though, when he called it delightful.

"Et's a tangled mess es what et es," she laughed. "An' et seems ta run through the family. Bu' I warn ya now ef they come out blonde dun go accusen me o' anehthin. Et happens e'ery once en a while en me family." She heard his heart thud a bit faster in his chest. "Change me mind bou' wha'?"

[EvelynWillows]

"Change your mind about marryin' me. A proper man would have bought you a room in an inn. I just made you a pup's bed in the back of the wagon. I mean, I understand but...I certainly hope you're still agreeing to spend your life with me." He had propped himself up on one elbow now and was looking down at her wild mass of hair and her vivid eyes.

His hand rested softly on her stomach. He drew his finger across the curve of her cheek down to her chin. "I don't care what color our children's hair comes out like, Fenny. I'll love every one. And anyways, I've bred enough livestock to see the odd little hatchling that just doesn't make sense. They're all precious, every one."

"Not that, not that I'd consider our children livestock, mind you...." He grinned at her.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny closed her eyes and leaned against Little John's hand as he traced a pattern across her cheek. Smiling contentedly she curved her fingers around his wrist before opening her eyes.

"I ain't changed me mind," she said gently. "An' thess es more'n I had en ages, proper men be damned." Fenny sucked in her tummy a little as his hand rested on it. It was an odd way to be touched. She didn't dislike it, it was just foreign to her. "Et'd be nice ef ye'd court me ferst, though," she added with a giggle. "I mean...et's all a bet fast. Yer the ferst man I e'er...well...fancied. E'er. Thess es a feelen as takes getten used ta, y'ken." She met Little John's gaze and was more comfortable with it now, knowing.

[EvelynWillows]

"Oh, it's a courting you're wanting," he chuckled. "They don't really teach us how to court pretty ladies in the monastery. I'll do my best, though." He decided that it was late enough in the day and he really had to get up lest they thought he'd gone and died and left the beer out there for free. "We'd better mind the booth," he finally said, accepting the inevitable truth that they'd have to leave the sanctuary of the wagon and face the needs of those in the fair.

Little John started to untangle his legs and feet from the blankets to crawl out of bed, but in the process of not trying to trample her or touch her in the wrong place he wound up loosing his balance and falling over her, sprawled in between her legs and across her body.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry," he said, trying to roll off her and a bit panicked. He accidentally palmed her breast and wound up pushing her skirts halfway up her legs as he tried to get out of the wagon without squashing his future wife.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well, they den't really teach us how ta be courted en...the cow pastures..." Fenny had never been really taught much of anything anywhere. The things she knew how to do just always...were. She leaned up and pressed her forehead against his, smiling. "So the bar's kinda low anehway." She crinkled her nose briefly and touched it to his before flopping back down. "Alrigh'," she sighed. "Ef we mus'."

Fenny tried to lay still as Little John tried to get up. She let out a hoot of surprise as he fell on her, then laughed.

"Et's alrigh'. Up ya get." In his panic, however, he'd only made things worse for himself. It was improper, she knew, and she knew she ought to be scandalized and offended, but she couldn't help but hang her head laugh. It was all too ridiculous. She put a hand on his arm to try and help him up but it was no use.

Hamish had given up on trying to find Fenny at the competition. Looking at the flags for the different events, he saw that he still had a while to go before the archery tournament. If anyone would know where she was, it'd probably be that priest. Sighing, he stomped back to where he'd seen the wagon, in the same place it'd been before. He hadn't opened up shop yet? That was...queer. There was a bit of a shuffle inside and Hamish raised his eyebrows. Well, if he were to break his oath to the Church, that was between him and God and the lady, but the Scot had to find his sister. He strode briskly up to the side of the wagon and rapped smartly on it before continuing around to the back.

"Father, I gotta talk ta ya bou' eff ya seen my--Wha' the HELL es thess?!"

What Hamish saw was his sister in the preacher's wagon, legs pushed apart, dress up around her knees and looking quite disheveled, and the man's hands on Fenny's chest as she tried to push him off of her. Oh, this was blood. Priest or no priest Hamish would have the man's head for playing candlepin. Seizing the bigger man by the back of his shirt, he hauled Little John out of the wagon and slammed him against the side, sword to his throat.

"Gev me one sengle reason I shoulna kell ya now," Hamish growled, keeping Little John pulled low so they could be face-to-face as he threatened him.

"Hamish!" Fenny scrambled to her feet and jumped out of the wagon quickly. "Hamish stop! Et's no' wha' et looks like!" She pulled at his shoulders, but not even she could disrupt Hamish's focus now. "Please, Hamish!"

"Funny, looked an awful lo' like rape ta me," he growled without taking his eyes off of Little John. "Holy man er no holy man, tha's a kellen offense en my book Fenella."

[EvelynWillows]

He was laughing in embarrassment but enjoying the sound of her voice. They had been trying to keep their voices low so as to not draw any attention to the cart while he fumbled about and tried to get out of the contraption. One moment he was laughing and looking into Fenny's dancing eyes, and the next he was being hauled out of the cart by a powerhouse of a Scotsman with vengeance in his eyes and a sword in his hand.

"Wait! I can explain!" Little John protested. The cold steel at his neck seemed to appear out of nowhere. John swallowed once, slowly. He looked into Hamish's eyes and saw nothing but anger. He supposed that he would have done the same thing had he caught his sister pinned under a clumsy oaf of a stranger in the back of a wagon.

"One reason, not to kill me? I can give you plenty of reasons," John said, "but if you kill me first it'll make you a murderer and where will that leave Fenny? Her brother hanged for killing a man, and her fiancee dead by her brother's hand?"

He wasn't about to fight Hamish now; he obviously had the upper hand. He just hoped that the man would give him and Fenny a moment of time to explain what had happened. "Come on, Hamish, listen to her. She has no reason to lie to you. She loves you."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish was red in the face, very red. Each word out of the priest's mouth only made things worse. He'd not known a true rage like this for a very long time, and this man seemed to bring it out in him.

"Dun matter what she--FeeWHAT?!" He looked to his sister, face now matching his tartan (http://images.search.yahoo.com/images/view;_ylt=A2KJkCGknUVQvTMArFuJzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTBlMT Q4cGxyBHNlYwNzcgRzbGsDaW1n?back=http%3A%2F%2Fimage s.search.yahoo.com%2Fsearch%2Fimages%3Fp%3Dmacdona ld%2Btartan%26n%3D30%26ei%3Dutf-8%26y%3DSearch%26fr%3Dmoz35%26tab%3Dorganic%26ri%3 D12&w=500&h=500&imgurl=www.scottishclansman.com%2Fgraphics%2Ffinde r%2FMacdonaldclanmod.jpg&rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.scottishclansman.com%2FMacdo naldclan.html&size=40.1+KB&name=MacDonald+Clan+Tartan&p=macdonald+tartan&oid=14d3304185edab1e77a691779c90679d&fr2=&fr=moz35&tt=MacDonald%2BClan%2BTartan&b=0&ni=128&no=12&ts=&tab=organic&sigr=11ia2s06j&sigb=13hn5j3ef&sigi=11tkui3k8&.crumb=Z0NM5jR2jp.) in redness.

When John had said what he said, Fenny had thought he was doing well...until the fiance part. She sighed and hid her face in her hands, shaking her head. If John could have said anything, anything at all, to make matters worse, he just had. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Put hem doon, Hamish," she said, eyes still squeezed shut. "Put 'way the sword an' have a brew. John jus'...quet talken. Please. Jus' fer now." Opening her eyes, she stood and pried Hamish's hand out of Little John's shirt and forced him to lower the sword. She gave John an apologetic look before leading her brother by the shoulder across the way to the tavern.

Across the street from Little John's cart, the siblings could be seen arguing. Many flailing gestures were made by both of them and Fenny's face began to redden as well. Twice she made to walk away but Hamish stopped her. A few times he grabbed at the tartan fabric that hung over her shoulder and she pulled it away from him, making an angry reply. There was much eye rolling on her part and threatening gestures in John's direction on his. Finally, they seemed to have shouted themselves out and gotten to some normal type of negotiations, which were concluded by a shaking of hands after spitting on them. Pursing her lips and shaking her head, Fenny returned to the cart while Hamish went inside to start the drinking day early.

"He says he wun kell ya s'long as ya kep yer promeses." Fenny's voice was hoarse and beginning to go. "An' kep yer hans offa me." She rolled her eyes. "I agreed ta tha' one coz he weren't budgen, bu' wha' he dunno can' hurt hem." She smiled impishly and took Little John's hand in hers.

[EvelynWillows]

Thank goodness Hamish let Fenny push away the sword. The sharp edge was beginning to think about separating the skin on his neck, and he wasn't that eager to see the Holy Father that day. One day, sure, but not that particular day.

Little John breathed a soft sigh of relief when they walked a ways across the street and began to argue. He wasn't sure that their tempers would ever settle down. He watched them wave their arms and throw their curses, grab at each other and make gestures that would make a pirate blush. Several passing people seemed to give them a wide berth, preferring to walk in the road way rather than accidentally make contact with one of their limbs.

John pulled open his cart, keeping an eye on them as he set up shop. There was plenty to do and he knew that Fenny could take care of herself. She was more than capable...heck, she just saved his own arse, didn't she? He laughed at himself and shook his head. Him, big 'ol Little John, getting saved by a little firecracker like Fenella. He was already thinking of her as his Fenny. He looked across the road again and was surprised to see Hamish leaving for the tavern and Fenny heading back to him.

He was glad to hear the conditions Hamish had set. With her little hand in hers he brought her palm up to his lips and gave her a kiss. "I'll keep my promises, Fenny. Even the ones you made for me. So let's be good and do what you told him we would, hm?" He put her hand down regretfully. "I'm certain that I love you Fenny, and that's forever."

With a grin he handed her a towel. "Work beside me, my dear?" There was no place he'd rather be than next to her.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny giggled like a child as Little John kissed her hand. She'd never been kissed before, not on the hand nor the lips nor the cheeks. Her hand tingled as he dropped it.

"You be good, preacher man," she scoffed, taking his hand again stubbornly, "an' I kin be tha' lettle devel on yer shoulder, hey?" The mischievous grin returned. "Tha' one weren't a promess s'much as a...guildeline fer behavior." She winked. "An' I ne'er coul' behave meself."

She used her other hand to grab her tartan and cough into it. Talking hurt now, after the fierce match with Hamish. She took the towel and smiled at him as he asked her to work beside him.

"Always."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John breathed a sigh of humor and nodded his defeat to her. "Very well, but I don't think there will be many more times that Hamish will let me walk away from a sword to my throat Lassie." He dipped a bit of water into a clean mug and mixed some honey into it. "I'd make you some tea, but I'm not allowed to make a fire according to my permit to sell. I don't think mead or wine'd be good either, on account of Hamish might come back. Drink this, though. It might help your throat."

As he set out the small kegs on the side of the wagon he remembered something. "Were you going to try your hand at the competitions, Fenny? If you need to go at any time you know I'd let you. I have a bit of pull with the boss, you see." He grinned.

A few customers were already starting to mill about and talk over the virtues of drinking so early in the morning. John watched them with a smile on his face and was ready when good taste finally over-ruled good sense, and they all decided to try some of his licorice stout. He happily tapped off their mugs and made them change for their purchases.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well, from now on eff he wansta put a claymore ta yer throat, et'll hafta go through mine ferst." Fenny coughed again then considered him briefly. "He do seem a bet...violen' 'round ya, though. Et's a lettle queer." She smiled and took the cup gratefully, muttering her thanks. "An' wha's wrong weth me haven mead er wine?" she rasped. "I'm old 'nough, an' Hamish'll set right next ta me an' watch me get en me cups!" She stuck her tongue out.

"Nah, I were jus' gonna watch Hamish an' Robin," she said. "Knives an' archery's the on'y competeshens they let wimin en. I dun like therd place, whech es ezacktly where I'd get weth Hamish an' Robin, an' I dun fancy throwen knives as much. I'd rather take a good fest fight er a sword fight." She tapped her own petite claymore (http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31GS-agQhcL._SL500_AA300_.jpg) at her hip. She'd taken it off to sleep, but it otherwise seldom left her side. "Bu' wimin're too fragile." She rolled her eyes.

She smiled at the customers as they debated whether to start drinking so early. She stood on tiptoe to lean on the counter and look them over.

"C'mon, laddies," she called to them. "Best brews fer counties o'er. Ye canna go wrong."

[EvelynWillows]

The men all seemed to be interested in Fenny's sales pitch for the lines seemed to grow longer when she was at the table. Little John began to let her work the sales as he poured tankards and cut cheese in the background, content to let her and her smile interact with those in line. He finally relented and let her have some sweet mead. He figured it would help her throat after all the yellin' she had been doing on his behalf.

He kept a sharp eye on a few fellows who seemed to come around quite often. What Little John had never realized before was that he had a bit of a jealous streak. He wasn't sure if the men were coming around for his drinks or for...his woman. He frowned. Fenny could take care of herself, but still, she had agreed to be his wife and even though it hadn't happened yet he felt a bit concerned that she might find herself fancying one of them and running off. After all, she had accepted his proposal in less than a day.

Don't be a Vogel kopf! She loves you! He wiped off the tables. Brandy needed tending, so he went to take care of his mule. She'd be hauling his wagon home at the end of the day; he'd best make sure she was well enough. He filled her water and cleaned out the piles, putting aside her mess for the day's honey wagon to come by.

He couldn't keep himself noticing, however, when someone came by more than once. He used to feel a measure of pride when people would come back for seconds, but now...now he was worried.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny was content to smile and chat with the customers. After her sister Mary had died, after all, she'd been in charge of taking the eggs and vegetables to market. Of course Alastair or Hamish had always been there to keep an eye on things, but she was usually the one to do the talking. People liked her, though she couldn't fathom why. Maybe it was her smile. She accepted John's honeyed mead gratefully and it went a good way toward repairing her throat. Eventually, she'd also found a box to upturn and use as a stool instead of standing on tiptoe all day.

Even Fenny noticed when people came around more than once, particularly men. Each time one did she'd glance at Little John and see him looking at them. Each time she shook her head in a gently scolding way and smiled at him. Whenever he passed by, eying a repeat customer, she'd put a hand gently on his shoulder. What part of never fancied someone before hadn't he understood? And so what if they'd keep coming back to flirt with her, business was business. And though she'd flirt a little to keep them coming back, she drew the line at business. This was proven in one incident that set a tone for the rest.

"Tha's yer therd one en an hour!" Fenny remarked with a teasing smile as she poured the man another cup of brambleberry wine. "Mus' be awful sweet."

"Or maybe 's just you, my Scottish rose." The customer smiled crookedly at her. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead smiled back.

"Ach! Yer a sly one ye are. Bu' e'eryone knows the more ya drenk the prettier I get." She nodded knowingly and pushed the wine toward him to encourage him to be on his way, but he didn't leave.

"You married?" he slurred. "Got a sweetheart somewhere?" He was a mildly handsome man in his late twenties.

"Aye," she said warmly, glancing at Little John, knowing he'd probably be watching.

"He treat you righ'?"

"The best. Devil though ya are, ye'd ha' a hard time luren me away."

"What? That oaf?" The man slopped a bit of his drink gesturing to Little John before wrapping his fingers around Fenny's wrist. Her smile dropped very quickly. "You come spend a while in the hay with me, and you'll never wanna see his face again!" He guffawed at his not-so joke. Fenny's smile reappeared and she chuckled with him.

"Remove yer dejets er I'll take yer hand off at the wrest," she warned quietly, still smiling. The man stopped and stared at her for a moment, then continued laughing, louder than ever. She, too, increased the volume of her laughing while reaching with her free hand under her skirt. She grabbed the dagger from the sheath at her thigh and quickly brought it above the counter to rest at the man's wrist. "See, the funny theng es...ye thenk I'm joken." In a moment of sobriety the man looked at her, fear in his eyes. "Ya dun touch me. He touches me," she gestured briefly with the knife to Little John, "you dun. Ya ken? Now le'go me arm, there's a dear." She smiled pleasantly as the man released her and backed away slowly. The knife was hidden again as quickly as it was out. "Ya come back fer a fourth when ya feneshed tha', aye?" she called after him before tending to the next customer. The entire exchange was quiet, would have only been heard by those immediately at the booth, and Fenny had taken care that other customers hadn't seen her draw a weapon.

"Ya fel better?" she asked with a pursed-lipped smile, turning to Little John as she reached for some ale. "Ya goose."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John found it hard to still his hand. His eyes had narrowed at the silver-tongued man's innuendos, and not-so-innuendos. Self-control and patience were all he had when the man grabbed Fenny's wrist. He didn't think she wanted to be rescued however.

No, it wasn't that. She didn't need to be rescued. She was capable and willing to take care of herself. She proved that when her knife seemed to suddenly appear against his corded wrist.

She's quick, he mentally admired her. It must've run in the family. Hamish was quick too. Those dang Scots were probably all quicker'n thought and more flammable than tar. He was a stoic, predictable Deutschman. Boring. Meticulous.

John watched from behind the counter, his arm wrapped around a keg he was half-way done carrying over while the world paused and Fenny sent the man on his way, his tankard spilling half his wine on the ground as he half-stumbled, half-trotted away from the booth. Little John walked up behind Fenny and touched her shoulder. "I do feel better, but what happens when they won't take 'no' for an answer?" he glanced in the direction the man had gone. "Not everyone's so easy to convince, Fen."

He smiled at her though. "It does strike me as a bit odd that someone as fair as you would be content with an oaf like me. You could court princes and be dressed in the finest of dresses if you put your mind to it," he said. He wrapped a few more pieces of cheese for the next customer.

"Oh, that's the last of the red wine, by the way, and we've only about half a round of cheese left. I was meaning to pay you in cheese and wine." He glanced down at her. "You might have to take your rightful pay in coin instead," he said, half-joking. "When do I get to start courting you, by the way? Do I hafta ask Hamish to take you out on picnics and such?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny shrugged. "When they dun take no fer an answer, then I breng Lillith ou' ta play." She tapped her claymore again. "An' ef they stell dun take no fer an answer, then I take off their hand. Er their privates. Er ye and Hamish kin come to me rescue, whechever happens ferst. These desmemberment thengs always happen so queck, y'ken." She frowned and stroked his hair. It was much easier to reach him with the box.

"Yer no' an oaf, John. Dun let anehone tell ya ye are, no' e'en you." She sighed. "Aye, maybe I'm pretteh, I dunno. Bu' I coulna court prences er nobles er nothen. 'Em wimin're kept en guilded cages; I coulna lev wethout the sun 'n tha's zackly what'd happen." She turned back to her work, shaking her head. "Yer no' an oaf. Yer a good, steady man weth a kind heart. S'whatcha are."

"Oh, damn the luck!" she joked when he told her they were running out of cheese and wine in which to pay her. "I guess ye'll jus' hafta pay me en a house an' bairns. Thess es an awful beg debt, y'ken." She turned to him, leaning her back against the counter, and winked. "An' as a downpayment tel then, ye'll hafta start weth secret kesses when beg brother esent looken." Fenny smiled conspiratorially at the large man in front of her. Her eyebrows knit when he asked about when and how he was to court her. "I dunno..." she said slowly. "Ne'er ben courted 'fore. E'en ef I'd e'er fancied someone, ef I dedent scare hem, Hamish an' Alastair an' Da ded. Et's kinda queer, esent et? I mean, sence he'll be leven en yer house tel we kin build hem hes own. I mean, I suppose ya ask...but I dunno. I dunno how thess sorta theng goes."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John nodded. "So you think stolen kisses would be a fair price? When big brother's not lookin'?" He looked around, searching for Hamish. "Well I don't see him now. Would not be a good time, then?" He put a hand on either side of her as she leaned against the counter. She was about the same height as him on that crate, and her smile had been infectious. He leaned close to her.

"I dunno, Fenny. It seems an awful big risk to take," he said, grinning. His eyes flickered down to her lips before returning to her eyes. "You just might stab me where I stood," he continued to get closer, until at the last moment he diverted his lips from hers and whispered warmly against her ear "It wouldn't be right, now would it? It would be like holding you in my arms while we slept together on the first day we met. Very, very improper." He pulled back and gazed at her solemnly. "They'll be plenty of second, third and forth kisses, but there's only one first kiss. I'd like to save that for the day we marry."

He pushed away from the counter and steadied himself by placing one hand on her tapered waist. "Now if you keep distracting me like this I'll never get my work done," he teased. "It's hard enough thinking about taking care of Brandy here, when my eyes keep getting drawn back to you. I think we need to invest in some burlap dresses to cover up some of that womanliness that keeps sparklin' in front of me." He traded an empty keg for a full one and tapped it for her. Then he took a moment to take stock of his inventory. "It lookes like we might bed done before the last of the competitions are over," he noticed. "You're my good luck charm; I haven't had this kind of business in the three years I've been doing this."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's breath caught in her throat as Little John put a hand on either side of her. She almost forgot to breathe as his lips moved closer to hers.

"Aye..." she said weakly, "et's...et's a fair price. Bu' Hamish migh' be watchen...from the pub." Her heart felt like it would beat straight out of her chest and her knees felt weak. Despite her misgivings about Hamish watching, still she leaned forward. "Now John...ya dun trust me?" She pretended to pout, then grinned again. "Though I'd wager ye've arready ben struck by an arrow." Her knees began to shake as he moved closer and she had to support herself on the counter.

"Well...et's no' like we ne'er done emproper afore..." she breathed, putting a hand on his shoulder. She was unable to hide her disappointment as he pulled away. Their wedding day? She'd been hoping for something a little sooner...but still, if that's what Little John wanted, that's what would happen. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Well...tha's summat new..." she said softly, studying Little John's face. And it was. It was a brand new...thing she'd never experienced before and it left her breathless and weak in the knees, hoping Little John didn't notice her hanging onto the counter for support. Then she realized something and smiled wryly.

"Johan Schnell, ya tease!" Fenny hit him affectionately in the arm. "Dun e'en try ta deny et! Ye are sich a beg tease!" Two could play at that game! One of these days when his guard was down...

She smiled at the compliment. His hand on her waist was...new. And pleasant. And strange.

"No' e'en burlap kin stop me!" she proclaimed proudly, putting her fists on her hips and puffing her chest out. "Best kep keerful, though, er Brandeh'll get jealous." She winked. "Glad ta know ye hanna met aneh gerl prettier'n me en the las' three years, then." Fenny smiled charmingly. For the first time in years, she felt happy. Truly happy.

[EvelynWillows]

"Mm, Brandy's known to kick pretty hard, too when she's mad." He continued to check the different kegs on the side of the wagon until he was certain that Fenny would be well stocked. Then he sliced up the rest of the cheese and wrapped them for her to sell when it got a bit busy.

"Fenny darling, do you mind watching the store for me a bit?" He had pulled out the paperwork and was thinking of getting the taxes paid and noted so that they could leave more easily once the faire was over. He had his dagger on his hip and figured he could leave his trusted sword under the booth. "I'd like to finish my business with the sheriff's tax man before the rush followin' the games." He leaned one elbow on the counter and looked at her.

"Will you be here with I get back, Fenny?" He reached out and tucked her unruly curl behind one perfect little ear. It seemed like he was trying to find every excuse possible to touch her, and in fact he was. He felt like a man parched in the desert being told that he could look at the clear, cool freshwater stream, but he couldn't touch it. And God forbid he drank from it! No, the stream was for looking only, and that was only when Hamish wasn't around. He smiled to himself, feeling like the youth trying to wink at the girls in church while their father's stood watch.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny closed her eyes as Little John tucked a curl behind her ear. It was to no avail and they both knew it, but he could try. He could always try. She caught his hand in hers and held his palm to her face, leaning her cheek against it and smiling contentedly. She opened her eyes when he asked if she'd still be here when he got back.

"No, John," she said gently, smiling at him. "When ya come back, I'll be gone. I'll've taken Brandeh an' the cart an' all yer moneh an' there'll be nothen left bu' a wheel o' cheese an' a keg o' beer on the groun'." She stuck her tongue out then leaned forward to press her forehead against his affectionately. "Ha' a keer, love," she said quietly. "The shereff's men aren't really known fer their kindness an' unnerstanden." She ran her fingers through his hair. "An' come back queckly, arrigh'?"

[EvelynWillows]

He grinned at her and then closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her forehead against his. "If you do have to leave, Brandy knows the way home." He smiled a little. It was nice to think of it as 'their home' instead of his lonely little plot of land. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I think I could just stand like this forever if you'd let me."

"I shouldn't be too long with the merchant's fees," he predicted. "It went well last year and not much seems to have changed." He started to leave, them came back. "Is there, is there anything I can get for you while I'm out?" he asked. He scanned the market area briefly to make sure that there was no one lurking. Once he received her answer he nodded and gave her hand a warm squeeze before finding his way to the tax office.

He had to wade through a menagerie of people pushing their way to the arenas to watch today's contests as she made his way to the north end of town. Once he was done it was like being able to breath again after having had a belt banded around your ribs too tight for too long. He felt a little groan of disappointment hit him when he saw the lines already forming outside of the office. He had told Fenny he'd be back soon, but now it looked like it might be an hour or two. He settled into line and wondered if God was trying to teach him how to be patient.

John noticed that on occasion one of the sheriff's men would come through the line and collect 'tokens'. Those who paid up were moved to the front of the line. It was a small bribe, in Little John's eyes, and not one that an honest merchant would take. Finally he was done being pushed back and he spoke up when the narrow-faced man came back by to collect tokens.

"Hey! We've been waiting as long as the others have. Why do they get to move forward for lining your pockets? Doesn't the tax office serve the people of Nottingham?" He frowned as the man moved forward and squinted at him.

"Yeah? Well we serve 'em jus fyne. And why should'n those willin' to pay get to go ferst?" He pocketed a few coins and waved a portly cloth merchant forward. "You got a complaint, you tells the sheriff."

Little John locked his jaw. This would have never happened with the last sheriff. He missed the days of old.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well, we'd ha' ta eat some time," she smiled, wishing she could even just kiss his cheek or forehead. Anything. Fenny shook her head when Little John offered to get her anything. "I'm arrigh'. An' I wun leave wethou' ya, whether she knows the way er not."

Business seemed to slow as more competitions drew near. Fenny sighed sadly as she realized she'd missed the archery competition. She knew her brother would take at least second place, but she'd still wanted to be there to cheer him on. Especially after all that had happened between them.

Hamish did, indeed, take second. As things were winding down, at least for him, he set out again for Little John's cart. Little John...his nose crinkled. Fenny could do better. Not a single man he'd met deserved his sister and the cleric was included in that. Still...impropriety aside, he supposed she could have done much, much worse. Just so long as he didn't have to watch them being all love-sick at each other and left him to his own devices. Fenny would try to pull him into wedding planning, he knew it and he'd have none of it!

A scene near the tax office caused him to pause along his way, however. There was the gentle giant, in an argument with one of the sheriff's men. Hamish pursed his lips and shook his head. Bloody tax men.

"Scuse me." He tapped the man talking to Little John on the shoulder. "Eh...where es thess shereff, 'zacktly? I ha'n't seen hem all through the fair. Jus' hes lackies." He looked pointedly at the man, almost daring him to say something.

[EvelynWillows]

"Unhand me, you brigand!" The sheriff's man pushed Hamish away. "The sheriff is very busy today! He's judging the competitions if you must know. Now you," he pointed a stubby finger at Little John, "you can just get in the back of the line for causing all this trouble! Git now!"

"Hey! I simply asked you a question!" Little John was getting frustrated. He had to have been away from Fenny for over an hour now. She'd think that he forgot her, or maybe that silk-tongued Brambleberry Wine drinker had returned and was giving her trouble. "You can't do that! I'm next!"

"I can and I will, and if you keep causing trouble I'll throw you in the locker until the sheriff gets back!" He pointed his narrow face at John and sneered. "Now are you going to do what I say or not?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Whoa! Brigand? Easeh, boyo. I were jus' asken a question." Hamish feigned a good humor, but even Little John should have known what was coming next. "'Scuse me, bu' I bleeve thess fine gennleman were here ferst, friend. Ye canna arrest hem just fer haven a spo', kin ye? Er es a line spo' taxed, too?" Hamish cupped his hand to his ear. "Sorry, I'm a lettle hard o' hearen, were ya talken ta me?" The sheriff's man leaned in to make himself heard. That was all Hamish needed.

"I said...!" Crunch! The man's nose was bleeding, likely broken, and his lip was split.

"Oh, I'm sooo sorreh offesser," Hamish said with a sheepish smile. "Et's me ol' treck arm, sometimes jus' goes off on ets own. Ben tha' way sence me land was burnt couple years ago." He massaged his knuckles subtly and turned to Little John with an unimpressed look and pointed at him sternly. "Now dun say I ne'er gave ya nothen," he chastised before beginning to walk away.

Fenny, meanwhile, was beginning to worry. Little John had been gone an awfully long time. They'd sold off all but one cask of wine and she was cleaning up for whenever he wanted to go home. Home! It sounded so lovely! It had been so long since she'd had a home. She petted Brandy on the neck and looked the mule in the eye.

"Es et a nice home, Brandeh?" she asked rhetorically, "Weth lovely green fields an' a cozy cottage weth a barn?"

"Well, I don't have a barn...but I've got a field!" Fenny gasped and whirled around to see the brambleberry wine man from before, deeper into his cups than when he'd left.

"Yew agin. Ach!" She shook her head. "Go home, lad. Fair's nearly over an' ye'll be haven a mighty headache en the mornen." The man instead smiled a crooked smile at her. No...a leer.

"Wha'?" he slurred, taking a staggering step foward, "not even a roll in the hay as a thanks fer yer best customer? My field's got some nice hay, y'know." Fenny didn't move for a weapon, but both hands were free and ready to grab one at a moment's notice.

"Ya stay righ' there, ya ken? Now...go. Home."

"Not so tough without yer body guard around, huh?" He chuckled and took another step.

"He's no' me bodyguard. Et's me ye should be skeered of, boyo." The man let out a hearty guffaw.

"You? Little waif...you're nothin'! Wouldn' even need a whole knife to juss...go righ' through ya!" He made a stabbing motion and as he did, Fenny drew the claymore from the scabbard a her side.

"I dunno 'bout tha', lad, bu' Lillith here's much longer'n a knife. Wanna see jus' how much she kin go through?" The sword wasn't physically touching the man, but it was trained on him.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John watched in horror as the scene unfolded in front of him. It was like watching a ship tilting over in the storm; you knew it would keel over too far to recover but there was nothing you could do to stop the waves from rising and the wind from blowing. Even trying would get you drowned.

~CRaCk!~ The sheriff's man staggered back a step, his nose horribly bent in a way God never intended.

John's eyes took on the proportions of dinner plates. "Aw, now why'd you go and do that?!" He stepped back himself, horrified that he'd been in the middle of the altercation. "AH, give me nothing?" He broke out of the line and followed Hamish. There was no way he could go in now and pay his tax; whether or not he threw the punch he was still at the root of the fight. "What you did was make it so I can't go back there without getting arrested for your temper, that's what you did!"

He stomped along beside the sturdy Scot. "Did you do that because of your sister? Because this all affects her too, you know." He paused as the booth came into view. "Aw, Scheiße..." He saw the Brandleberry Wine man getting a little too close to Fenny, and the look on her face should have stopped any man with good sense dead in his tracks. But this man didn't have any good sense, and the brain he was thinking with couldn't have filled a thimble if it brought all its friends.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Dun be selly! O'course ya kin go an' pay yer taxes! An' ef they do arrest ya, well there's no' a lock Fen's e'er met as she canna peck." Hamish smiled tightly and patted John on the arm. "Now, go pay whatcha need ta pay. There's a good lad." He continued walking, knowing Little John was mad but not understanding why. He'd just done him a favor. "Er, ef yer tha' skeered, we'll send Fen ta do et. An' wha' aboot me sesster?" Hamish looked at him with a scowl. "I were doen ya a kindness, boyo! An' ef Engleshmen're sevelized a' all they'll see tha' too! Oi now..." Hamish stopped dead and slowly drew his sword, watching the scene with Fenny and another man he didn't know.

"We ne'er ha' these problems afore she met you, ya ken," he murmured to Little John, keeping his eyes on his sister.

Fenny took a step back as the man took a step foward and pressed the tip of her sword against his chest. He leered at her again, gaffawing.

"Go ahead, then! Kill me! C'mon, lass, you made the threat now live up to it!" At the same time, however, Fenny felt a knife's point in her back. He'd brought along a friend this time. "Still gonna cut off my hands?" he demanded, holding them out. "Here they are!"

"I'll cut off a wee more'n tha'," Fenny growled, "an' I do mean et's just a wee." The man smirked.

"Big talk for a little girl. I didn't know Scottish women put up such fights! After all, that's where all the whores come from, isn't it?" He put on a mockery of an accent. "Scotland the Brave? So be brave! You'd have to, to handle this." He grabbed at his crotch and as he did the tip of the claymore moved from his chest to his groin.

"Awful hard ta break a breast, much easier ta make ya less than a man yer entire life. An much more fetting." Fenny breathed in sharply as she felt the knife in her back move around to her throat and a hand wrap around her waist.

"Don't even try to scream," a voice whispered in her ear, "do and you're dead."

[EvelynWillows]

The implication that he should send Fenny to pay the taxes for him nearly made John's cool blood boil.

"You just never noticed these problems before," John retorted. "Why else would she keep Lilith so close?" He saw the second man and now he did lose all good sense. He tapped Hamish's shoulder and signaled that he was going to the left, towards the man at Lily's back. He'd have called Brandy to the rescue but the man had a sharp dagger at Fenny's back. Anything that Brandy did would drive the dagger into Fenella's back as quick as a nail beneath a carpenter's hammer.

There is a band of softer skull that wraps around a man's skull. It stretches from the eyebrows to the tip of the nose, and any hard, sharp blow to that area was bound to cause a man to lose control, if not to die altogether. In the short stint that Little John spent traveling and administering to the Templars he learned more than he cared to about the ways a man can die. His gut felt cold and his head rang with warning.

John! Things done cannot be undone! Think about it! Be patient, seek peace, don't act rashly!

The wine drinker inferred that Fenny was a whore and grabbed his crotch. The second man moved his blade from Fenny's back to her neck, his greasy lips moving close to her face. Then he stood straight and was about a head taller than Fenny. Her wild red hair stuck to the stubble on his chin.

John slid his heavy dagger out of its sheath and moved towards the unfriendly gathering, dropping down to stay out of the wine-drinker's peripheral vision. He contemplated what he wanted to do, then flipped the knife over so he would hit with the hilt and not the blade. This was nothing to kill a man over. Not yet.

When the man holding Fenny pulled his head back to dislodge some of her hair from his chin, John stood and let the knife fly as calmly as if he had been hunting with it. The knife made a clean, single half turn as it left his hand, the hilt coming into perfect contact with the man's temple and dropping him to the ground, his own knife falling forgotten to the ground in front of Fenny.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny was bewildered as she was suddenly let go. She didn't stop to ponder it at that very moment, but merely retrieved her assailant's knife from the ground and stepped closer with both weapons.

"Ye were sayen?" she raised her eyebrows mildly and smiled. The man, however, drew his own sword in preparation to duel. "Oh good. I was hopen tha's what ye'd say."

"Walk away, Fen," Hamish said in a stern voice, sidling up to the pair. She glanced at her brother for a moment.

"Ach! Ya ne'er let me have aneh fun!"

"Ya dunno how many more friends he go'," Hamish pointed out before looking at the man who'd bought wine at the booth early that day. "Bu' righ' now, et's looken three ta one boyo." With a flick of his wrist he swung his claymore around once by his side before regaining his firm grip on the hilt. "An I dunno 'bou' John back there, bu' her an me're more'n enough ta take ya an' three o' yer friends. Tellen her ta walk away es doen you a favor...bu' she dun lessen ta me verah often."

"No' much 'tall, actualleh." Her brother shook his head in agreement.

"So...wha's et gonna be?"

The stranger kept his sword trained on Fenny for a few moments. "This isn't over." He turned and ran, not bothering to sheath his sword. Fenny breathed out and turned around to see John standing there.

"Was tha' you as dropped hem?" She smiled, impressed, before walking over and nudging the other man with her toe. "Es he dead?"

"Who cares. John pay yer taxes an' le's get out o' here. Et's not me as gonna getcha en trouble weth the law, et's thess delenquent." He mussed Fenny's hair.

[EvelynWillows]

"Alright," Little John agreed. "You both get packed up and out of town and I'll meet you in the little glade about four miles out," he said. He took his knife back from Fenny with a nod of thanks and slid it back into his sheath. For good measure he put his sword on his opposite hip and grabbed his favorite hat.

He looked at Fenny. "That man will be back, Fenny, I feel it. I dun want you to be here any longer than you have to. Men do stupid things for the sake of their pride, and 'es women like you who wind up payin' the price." He gave Hamish a nod of thanks as he prepared to leave again.

"Well one thing's for sure," he said, reaching out and taking Fenny by the hand. "This will be a faire I will never forget, no matter how many years I live."

Once they had taken their leave of each other he made his way back to the tax office, glad to see that the line was almost completely done. He waited outside in the shade of an ancient apple tree as the line inched forward, and finally he was inside the small building and waiting to pay his fair share. "John Schnell," he answered when asked to give his name. The accountant ran a finger down his ledger sheet until he got to the Esses. He traced the names and then came to John's.

"It says here that you still owe from last year," the man said as he looked up expectantly.

"Well, that's not so. I paid last year before I left the fair," John explained. "Like I'm doing this year."

"DO you have a receipt?"

"Well of course I got a receipt!" He answered, perturbed.

"Let's see it."

"It's...it's not here. Why would I bring last year's receipts with me to this year's faire?" He looked up at the two men behind the desk in disbelief. "I have it 'et home."

"We will need to see that, or else you'll owe all the penalties for unpaid taxes for the year as well as this one," the accountant explained.

"Well I'd have to go get it," he said, exasperated. "I'm a good forty miles away from town!" he sighed. "Okay, let me pay this year's tax, and then I'll return with the receipt in a few days," he tried to reason.

"You can't pay this year's tax until you paid last year's tax." The man looked at John like he was an idiot.

"But I already paid last year's tax, I told ya!"

"Don't get upset at me, mister. I'm just telling you how things are."

"So you won't take my taxes for this year until I've proven that I've paid last years?" He shook his head in disbelief.

The accountant nodded.

Little John sighed. "Alright then. Can you at least tell me what my taxes are for this this year?"

The accountant shook his head.

John's shoulders sagged. He nodded his understanding and left, wondering if he wasn't too late to catch Fenny and Hamish on their way out of town.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Yer no' sharen a bed weth hem." Hamish held Brandy's reigns as they drove out of town on Little John's cart.

"Course no'!"

"No, I mean no' e'er!" He scowled at the horizon. Fenny glanced sideways at him and pursed her lips.

"An' how zackly are we s'posedta have bairns ef we ne'er share a bed?" she demanded. Hamish shrugged.

"Ya dun, I spose."

"Y'ken...ya act as ef yer all high an' mighty!" Fenny turned in her seat. "As ef all 'em nights ya got pessed a' the pub I dent know where ya went weth them gerls as setten on yer knee all night!"

Hamish flushed with embarrassment. He was embarrassed partially at getting caught being a hypocrite and partially at the subject matter. Sex wasn't exactly a topic he often discussed with his little sister. He hadn't even known she knew about it til now; he had been banking on being on the move long enough that she'd give up on a family.

"Least I'm on'y stecken ta the one," she mumbled.

"An' tha's wha' I dun get. I mean...ya never looked twice a' a boy afore." He leaned back and looked at her. "I ben convensed fer years ye'd have no' minded one o' 'em gerls yerself." His sister slapped him across the cheek, but he laughed anyway.

"Hamish Balloch, bite yer tongue! I ain't ne'er..." She snorted and Brandy responded in kind. "No, et's jus' tha'...well, I ne'er really bothered afore. An' then there were John an'...I dunno. Thengs've changed. Fer the better." She smiled, and when she looked up was surprised to see him smiling back. He was happy to see her happy. "Er...Hamish? Why've we quet moven?" They both looked at the mule, whose ears were turned back.

"Maybe she hears some sort o' highway robber?"

"Ach! Who'd rob a mule cart? She looked around the side of the cart and saw Little John running down the road. She jumped down and ran to meet him, taking his hand. "Tha' were fast." She skipped along at his side until they reached the driver's seat of the cart. "Alrigh', move o'er. En the back ya get."

"Why do I hafta set en back? I'm older!"

"Revenge fer all those years goen ta market ya made me set en back e'en though ya were the on'y one en the driver's seat. Now get." Fenny pushed her brother toward the back of the cart.

[EvelynWillows]

John grinned at Fenny as he climbed up into the cart. "Well, it was fast because it's not done. I have to get some papers back home and go back to finish up, but I'll get you settled in first." He glanced over at Hamish. "And no, I haven't paid the taxes yet." He took the papers and put them in the box under the seat.

"Brandy, go home girl," he said, letting the reigns rest on the seat. "They need me to bring them the receipts from last year before I can pay this year's tax. This new sheriff thinks up new rules every day. It's like he's out to prove something. The last sheriff was much more reasonable." He sighed and looked at Fenny. "I hope you don't mind spending a night on the road, Lassie. It's near forty miles from Nottingham to our home."

He liked saying that. It felt right somehow. He was acutely aware of Hamish in the back seat and wasn't sure exactly how to approach the timing of their wedding, so he simply sat and let Brandy take them home.

Home. It seemed like all his unspoken hopes and prayers were coming true.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish shrugged as Little John glanced over at him to say he hadn't paid his taxes.

"Suits me jus' fine," he said, leaning back in the cart. "We ain't paid taxes sence afore we sold the farm."

"We dun bleeve en em," Fenny explained softly, "least, no' the way Prence John do et. I mean, whether ya like these ruddy Crusades er no', ya gotta admet Keng Recherd were at least a be'er ruler."

"Sco'lan' the frree!" Hamish chimed in with a yawn. He'd never admit it to his sister but he was quiet enjoying the back seat. A nap in the warm setting sun without having to worry about the mule; it was nice, especially after a long day of drinking and arching and fighting.

"Aye, Sco'lan' the free," Fenny smiled. "I spent the las' sex years o' me life on the road, I dun thenk another night's gonna kell me. Specially not travelen thess way."

After a while, Fenny checked over her shoulder. Hamish was asleep in the back, drooling and snoring loudly. Smiling gently, she scooted closer to Little Jon and wrapped her arms around one of his. Her Little John. She frowned briefly; would they call their son Littlest John then? Shrugging, she settled her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly.

"Jus' tell me thess en't a dream. Et feels like a dream."

[EvelynWillows]

"Hm," Little John patted Fenny's hand on his arm and smiled. "There now, all is officially right with the world. Dream or no, we're both in it together."

He thought about the taxes. "I suppose I don't really believe in them, but we're told to give to Ceasar what's his, and right now our little Ceasar is asking twenty-five percent of what we made, plus he's wanting penalties on taxes I already paid if I don't have proof that I already did pay it, and...that barely leaves enough to even think about coming back again next year. I'd be paying them for the privilege of brewing for their fair."

He sighed. "I'm sure it will be alright. I'll jus' give it to the Almighty, and then we'll see where He takes us." He liked the way it felt when she rested her head against his arm, and he let Brandy take her neck and stretch out. The closer they got to their home, the faster she was bound to walk. They passed the little glen that they were originally going to meet at, and John pointed it out to Fenny. "You said that you all and Robin lived out in the forest. "Was your forest this direction, then?"

The sun was beginning to trace crimson and violet lines across the wispy clouds of the evening. Long shadows were crossing the road beginning to tuck themselves into bed. Soon they'd have to find a place to stop as well. John wondered briefly where he'd sleep tonight. Maybe he'd give Fenny and her brother the cart and he could park it over some boughs, create a little shelter for himself underneath the thing. It would be a little like he imagined it at home. He was planning on letting Fenny and Hamish have his loft while he slept downstairs, but the fire. It was good that it was still early spring yet; they might have the main room in Hamish's cottage erected by the winter's first snow.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye, le' go an' le' God, dear," Fenny yawned, resting her eyes. It had been another busy day and she wondered if she'd always sleep this well with Little John by her side. "Were et me I'd jus' no' pay. Obviousleh ya go' the permets wethout proof o' payen taxes the year before." She sighed. "Bu' then again, ye go' a much stronger moral compass than I." She patted the still full purse at her hip filled with ill-gotten silver. "Er...you could always pay weth thess. Et's from noblemen an' rech people, they woulna mess et."

She rested her head on his arm, tracing his fingers with the tips of hers and dozing in and out. She opened her eyes as John spoke to her.

"Mm? Oh aye. Bu' more...tha' way." She gestured off to the left. She was silent for a while, then "By the way, ever-vertuous beg brother has declared we'll ne'er ha' bairns coz we'll ne'er share a bed. Jus' so's ya ken." She smiled and giggled a little.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John found the concept that his bride-to-be was carrying a pouch-full of stolen coins a bit disconcerting, but he let it go. She had said that they didn't have a way to make a living before; maybe it was all they could do to get by. He reached over and patted her on the far leg with his large hand. He just rested it there, on her leg, and let the feel of her sooth him.

"Oh?" He chuckled when she told him that Hamish said they weren't allowed to ever share a bed. "You can make little babies in places other than a bed," he began, before he realized what he was saying. "I mean, it's ah...certainly, at least until we're married, yes? I dunna think Hamish will want to spend the rest of his life making sure that we stay away from each other for the rest of our lives. Eventually he'll have to get a wife of his own, yea?"

He clucked at Brandy and they turned off the main road down a narrow, cart road to the right. It finally opened near a stream, and there in the woods the darkness was more absolute. John parked the cart up the incline from the stream and then set about to unhook the mule and give her a drink. "I think this would do it for us, Fenny. Would you mind setting up a little fire for us while I take care of Brandy?" He nodded towards an old fire ring that had been used by travelers many times before. "I haven't eaten all day, and you probably haven't as well. I have some bread and salted meat in the box there, and with that and wots left of our cheese we could have virtual feast." He grinned at her again. Even a simple meal of oatmeal and water would be a feast with her.

"We should probably get any hand-holding and huggin' and kissin' out of the way before your brother wakes up," John said loudly in jest for Hamish. "We don't want him cracking my head over you so soon."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny turned pink and worked very hard to bite back a smile at Little John's solution to Hamish's conditions. Instead she patted his hand on her leg and slid her fingers between his.

"Ye'd be surprised a' how stubborn he kin be," she smiled. "He'd slep between us ef he had ta. An'...maybe some day he'll ha' a wife." She lifted her head and glanced back at her brother. "Bu' righ' now he's haven too much fun chasen skirts."

When they parked Fenny hopped down from the cart and started scrounging for things with which to make a fire. Dead branches were plenty and finally she found two suitable for setting the others aflame. Her stomach twisted in a knot as John mentioned food.

"Aye...I'm starven!" Fenny glanced up at Hamish as John joked loudly, then shook her head. "He's slepen drenks. Ain't nothen as'd wake hem up short o' hetten hem o'er the heed." She straightened up and sidled over to her husband-to-be, wrapping her arms around his middle and looking up at him. "An' dun ya joke bou' no kessen," she said softly, "coz I'd like nothen be'er." She lowered her face and snuggled it into his chest, squeezing him gently. She felt safe this way.

[EvelynWillows]

Brandy was settled near the stream, happily munching on the spring grasses and nibbling clover when she found it. Little John walked over to warm his hands over Fenny's fire. "I don't think I could get used to having Hamish sleeping between us," he laughed. "People might get the wrong idea about this ex-priest." He chuckled and put his arm around her shoulder.

The fire crackled and lit up the trees with an warm, soothing light. John felt a little shiver of anticipation run through him when Fenny said that she'd like to kiss him. He'd like to kiss her, too, truth be told, but there were some things that he wanted to keep sacred between them. Most people tossed around kissed like the autumn wind scatters leaves, and many others, like Hamish, found that they enjoyed the comfort of another's embrace too tempting to resist, and fell into strangers arms at every opportunity. Little John embraced Fenny back and kissed the top of her head.

"Aye, I do too, Lass, but kissing leads to wanting other things." He rubbed his hand up and down the curve of her back. "I don't want to give anyone reason to say badly of you Fenella." Her hair felt thick and lush in his fingers. He wished he had been able to get the taxes done and to get the few things he had thought to get while they were in town, but those would have to wait.

"Well, are you ready to eat? I dun suppose Hamish would mind if we supped without him, and Brandy's already halfway to breakfast."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Er they'd jus' thenk we're a tepecal Scottesh famileh," Fenny joked. "Sheeps an' seblengs, tha's wha' they all say, en't et?"

She winked to let him know that the stereotype didn't bother her, because it didn't. There were those few weirdos from up North, but nobody paid them any mind anyway. She knew it was stupid and false and that's all that mattered. She sighed as he talked about kissing and her virtue. She wondered if he knew there was such a thing as being too pious.

"Wha', so kessen turns us enta animals?" she asked. "B'lieve et er no', I do ha' some restraint, and tha's one o' the thengs I use et fer. Kessen leads ta wanten other thengs...et's whether ya gev en es wha' counts." She chuckled at the thought of no one saying anything bad about her. "Folk'll say bad thengs abou' me whether we kess er no'. Arready have. Ya heard tha' lad en town," she pointed out. "Now, you know et's no' true, an I know et's no' true, so so what ef he says et? An' ef et's no' folk gossepen abou' tha', et'll be coz I'm a Scot er I lev weth me brother er I got a temper er I drenk er fight er have red heer er who knows wha' else? So wha'?"

She looked over at Hamish, who was still fast asleep. Then she looked to the food near the fire.

"Aye. Dun recken he'd ha' much o' a appetite, anehway. Spent the day stuffen hes face weth beer an' meat, mos' like." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "'N sides tha', I'm starved."

[EvelynWillows]

Every time she said kissing, or kiss, or anything, he just wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her. She might have restraint but he didn't, and he knew that a kiss or two and he'd probably not want to wait until they were wed, and then what if she began to grow with child and they still weren't wed...he shook his head. "I'll think on it, Fenny."

He put a pot of water out near the fire and helped her portion out their cold dinner of bread, cheese, and dried meats. Truth be told it was a good, simple meal. He handed her a mug of his silky stout beer, all creamy and sweet in its malt-infused fullness. "These past two days have been the best days of my life, Fenny." And they were. He sat next to her by the fire and asked her about her life, all the while mesmerized by the play of firelight on her features. Once dinner was nearly done, and about two mugs into the stout, he leaned over and put his fingers on the other side of her face to turn her towards him.

And there, sitting on the forest floor with his future wife, he gently kissed those lips he'd been watching for the last hour.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny shrugged. "No rush. I'm jus' sayen, ef tha's wha' yer skeered of...then dun." She smiled up at him before he began to dish out their meals. "Aye...mine too, lamb," she replied gently when he told her the past few days had been the best of his life.

Throughout and after dinner, warmed by the fire and the stout, Fenny told him about her life and answered any questions Little John might have. How she grew up in the Highlands in a tiny mountain town, about her long-dead siblings and parents, her neighbors, their house. She told him about the time she was walloped for stealing after coming home covered in mud with a piglet in her arms; the butcher's boy had told her she could keep it if she could catch it, having been confident she wouldn't because she was a girl. Oh how she cried all the way back into town; she'd already named the pig and promised it a sty of its own and everything. She laughed and pushed the hair out of her face at the memories. She missed her home in Scotland, very much. She didn't say it, but the look on her face was plain.

Then came a moment of silence between them, a few cups later, and she felt his hand on her face. As she turned to look at him, she was caught off-guard by his lips pressed gently against hers. After the initial moment of shock, she reached up and curled her fingers around his neck, thrilled to share such a tender, passionate moment.

"See?" Her voice was nearly at a whisper when it finally ended and a grin was plastered on her face as she leaned her forehead against his. "All me clothes stell on." She giggled softly and pecked him on the tip of his nose.

[EvelynWillows]

John gazed into her eyes. He was amazed at this woman sitting next to him. She was strong, and loving, and smart, and everything he could want in his life. The kiss even surprised him. He half expected a slap after it was done, but instead she ribbed him gently and kissed the tip of his nose.

"I'd better fix us a place to sleep," he said, feeling self-conscious. He took another shallow breath and then went to the wagon. Hamish seemed to be deeply asleep still so Little John simply covered him with a cloak and left him be. The canvas that had covered the wagon the previous night would make a good lean-to. He went about finding low pine boughs to give them some distance from the cold forest floor. Once he had a good layer near the fire he covered them with the canvas and brought over his blanket.

Brandy had nodded off near the wagon, her tail swishing lazily in the night air.

Looking over at Fenny Little John smiled. "Do you think Hamish will be as upset if he finds us sleeping together again?"

Out in the roadway barely a quarter mile away, the faint flicker of their firelight was barely visible.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny smiled and ran a hand through Little John's hair. Her lips tingled and her cheeks hurt from smiling but she didn't care. She loved this man. She was sorry to see him get up, but he was right. They should bed down for the night. She watched as he built a little bower big enough for the two of them and shrugged when he asked if Hamish would be mad.

"I dunno. I thenk thess mornen were a messunderstanden. Bu' e'en so, he's taken up the whole cart an' we gotta kep warm. E'en he knows tha's the bes' way how." She crawled under the canvas and waited for him, peering out nervously into the night. "I'm jus' worried bou' brigands. Worse'n hem an' me ou' there, an' 'em as folk I dun fancy crossen." She glanced at the fire. On the one hand, it kept them warm and kept away things like wolves and bears for the night. On the other, it would be a beacon to any sort of unsavory traveler. Still undecided, she looked up at Little John.

"Wanna know a secret?" she asked with an impish smile.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John watched her crawl under the canvas. He wasn't sure if he should correct her but then he cleared his throat and said "I was thinking we could sleep on top of that and under this," he said, holding up the thin wool blanket. "Sometimes the ground's colder'n the air."

As he helped her with the bedding he began to hear Hamish snore softly. It made him smile.

"Sure Fenny," he said to her softly. "I wanna know all your secrets."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"...Oh." Fenny pinkened out of embarrassment and scrambled to her feet to help with the bedding. She'd spent the last long while sleeping on the ground in all sorts of terrain and weather, so she hadn't minded. She smiled up at him when he agreed to hearing a secret.

"Tha' were me ferst kess..."

Now that she said it out loud, it sounded childish. It was embarrassing, but it was true. She flushed lightly again and looked away, suddenly self-conscious. As her brother started snoring, she walked over and kicked the wagon wheel.

"Hamish, yer snoren."

"Mmmffmm...sorry..." The drunk Scot rolled over on his side and the snoring stopped. But only temporarily.

"He gets loud," Fenny said with a sheepish grin, turning back to Little John. "Jus' gev hem a keck e'ery now'n'then an' he'll stop fer a bet." The bedding ready, she sat down again and crawled under the blanket. The canvas did make a difference in the comfort level. She laid propped up on her elbow, looking at Little John expectantly.

[EvelynWillows]

Now that they were going to get into bed he felt more self-conscious than before. Now it was more real. He watched her flounce over and kick the wagon wheel, her skirts and hair bouncing along like a chorus. God forbid he ever came home drunk; he was sure she'd make it a tough night for him if he did.

He laid down behind Fenny and turned on his side. He tucked one are under his head for a pillow and kept the other one on his waist. He wanted to wrap it around her waist, but that seemed somehow too familiar. "That was my first kiss too," he admitted. "We don't have lots of chances to kiss pretty girls in the monastery. Sure, boys are a'plenty, but..." he teased. "Can I kiss you again?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny turned onto her side, facing Little John. She felt more at ease now, knowing it had been his first kiss too. She smiled at him and wiggled a little closer. She giggled when he asked if he could kiss her again.

"No," she said, resting her hand gently on his chest and scooting closer. "I wanna kess you thess time."

Their second kiss was every bit as gentle and loving as their first. Fenny's hand slid from his chest to his cheek. She didn't know why, she just felt like maybe that's how it was supposed to be done. As a sudden wave of love swept over her, she pressed her lips a little more firmly against his, trying to convey that love. It seemed like ages before they broke apart.

"I love you, Little John," she said softly.

[EvelynWillows]

No?!

But then she smiled and said that she wanted to kiss him this time, and Little John's heart started beating again. He let her kiss him, and it felt like someone had tilted the world over onto it's side. He was simultaneously excited and scared of what was happening to him. Parts of him stirred to life, and he was embarrassed that Fenny might notice his body's reaction to her kiss.

"I love you too, Fenny." he leaned his forehead against hers. "You're the most amazing woman I've ever met." He let himself hold her against his chest, their body warmth staving off the cool spring night air. Between Brandy's shuffling and Hamish's occasional snore, the sounds of frogs and crickets colored the night. The fire lasted until the wee hours of the morning before going out; still, there were coals left if they needed to stoke if for any reason. Little John's teapot sat forgotten on the side of the fire ring.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny smiled and allowed herself to be pulled closer, taking comfort in John's embrace. She bent the arm she was laying on in close to her chest and slid her other arm around his ribs. It was nice to finally have someone, and to be more comfortable with him than she had been with anybody, despite noticing a few things after their kiss. Not wanting to embarrass him she opted not to tease him about it and said nothing.

"Yer a spectacyaler man, Johan Schnell," she yawned, closing her eyes. "an' I'm lucky ta have ya."

Fenny was awake with the dawn, but she didn't feel like moving. Her face was stuffed into Little John's chest and in the night she'd pulled the blankets up over her head and stuffed her toes between John's knees to keep them warm. With the sun peeping through the woolen blanket and the steady rise and fall of her future husband's chest accompanied by his heartbeat, she wanted to lie here forever.

"Ach..." Hamish rose at about the same time and rolled out of the cart. "Ach...me neck..." A loud crunch and a groan of relief was heard and Fenny rolled her eyes. She counted the moments until her brother decided to ruin this perfect moment.

[EvelynWillows]

There wasn't much too it, a simple matter of asking around about the friar who wasn't a friar who had a booth at the fair, and Mitchel Grange found out all he needed to regarding the whereabouts of the Schnell vendors. No one really knew much about his fiery-haired wife, only that this was her first year here. He and his newly-hired 'friends' were on their way now to the western province of Nottingham. There was only one main road out there, and with Schnell's driving a cart and Grange and his boys on horseback he was certain that they could pass them up quite easily.

Late that night they passed several fires and camps along the road. It was a chance view of the flickering light in the forest that gave them their clue. One of Grange's men confirmed it; a cart full of barrels and a red-headed woman sleeping by the fire. Mitchel grinned to himself and moved them on; they'd get to the little farm described to him hours before the Schnells did. There would be plenty of time to put together their plan, and the men had been promised a turn with the wench as well as their pay for helping Mitchel settle a debt of pride.

* * *

John pulled Fenny closer when she shifted in the morning air. He was fast getting used to holding her in his sleep and he wondered how he ever slept before without her. He murmured something into her hair and fell back asleep. It was easy to sleep when your conscious was clean.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Mmm?" Fenny looked up at the blanket above her head where John's face might be, before realizing that he was just mumbling. She felt sleepy and lazy and wasn't sure how she'd ever slept a decent night without him.

Hamish, however, heard the quiet groan-grumble-question and looked toward Little John. Despite his pounding head, he scowled and stomped over to them. In one sweeping motion he yanked the blanket away, causing Fenny to curl up into a little ball to conserve warmth.

"Ge' up!" he barked, nudging at both of them with his foot. "Ach! Ya go' no shame? Ge' up!" He bent down and pulled half-conscious Fenny to her feet. "Wha' the Hell were ya thenken? Were ya thenken a' all?"

Staggering, Fenny yanked her arm away and pushed her hair out of her face. With a clear face she was able to sufficiently scowl at her brother.

"Yeah, assume the wors'," she growled. "Et's too early fer thess shite. Yer no' the on'y man en me life anehmore, Hamish. The sooner ya ge' used ta tha', the better."

"Well ya migh' no' wanna act like a trollop en the mean time!" He motioned to Little John. Fenny's scowl grew deeper and she pushed him away.

"I'm no' a trollop. Nothen happened, nothen e'en close ta happened. We're no' a couple o' wild animals, so leave us be, Hamish." She shuffled over to the fire pit and grabbed a stick to stoke the coals back to life for a bit of a warm up and maybe some breakfast before they broke camp.

[EvelynWillows]

To go from the warm arms of your love to the cold air of the early morning, when the night has had it's way with the temperature and it is at its coldest, is a cruel thing indeed. Little John got to his feet and watched the exchange between brother and sister. Was it always going to be like this?

He knew that Fenny could protect herself, but he was beginning to feel like he had a right to protect her now. After all, she had consented to marry him. They were promised to each other.

The fighting and bickering was well and fine until Hamish told Fenny that she was acting like a trollop.

"I'm no' a trollop. Nothen happened, nothen e'en close ta happened. We're no' a couple o' wild animals, so leave us be, Hamish." Fenny stalked away, leaving the men alone.

Little John looked at Hamish. Hamish looked back, the anger still evident on his face.

So Little John did the only thing he could do. He punched him in the nose. "No one calls my future wife a trollop," John explained. "Not even you, Hamish."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish was about to ask what Little John's problem was when suddenly his face exploded in pain. He shouted in surprise and doubled over, clutching at his face. He felt his nose gingerly. Not broken, but bleeding profusely. The man hadn't even had the decency to look angry before hitting him!

"No one calls my future wife a trollop. Not even you, Hamish."

Big brother looked up in surprise. So the man had a spine after all! He straightened up slowly as Fenny came running over.

"John!" Her voice was shrill with surprise and increasing anger. She pushed the big man away from her brother and pulled his hands away from his face. "Hamish ya alright'? Wha' the Hell was tha'?!" She demanded, looking over her shoulder at John. "Tha's et. Next time someone throws a punch, er calls names, er makes me angry coz you two canna ge' along, I'm taken Brandeh an' I'm goen there on me own an' you two kin ha' a nice long walk together." She turned back to Hamish and started dabbing at his nose with his tartan.

"Leave off me, wemin!" Hamish's voice wasn't angry, mostly annoyed. "I dun need any mollycoddling, et's jus' me nose." He waved her away and straightened up. Squaring his shoulders and scowling, he marched straight up to Little John and...stuck out his hand to shake.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John watched Fenny come over and tend to her brother, making sure that he was okay and not gonna die because there was a little blood coming from his nose. He just shrugged. "He should'na called you that," was about all he could get out.

He waited for the counter-blow. There always was one. But when Hamish came over and gave him his hand, John grinned to himself. He shook Hamish's hand and figured that there was a new understanding between them. "I hope that's the last time we have strife," he said. "I dun like seeing Fenny upset."

Brandy had heard her name and had walked over to where Fenny was. By now she was used to seeing the others and figured that they were just as good as john was when it came to scratching long ears or sneaking a piece of sweet into her food bucket.

"We're only a few hours from home," John said. "If we eat while we travel we should get there before the noon sun." He thought about the stock he left in his little farm. Hopefully they had all fared well and no racoons or skunks had gotten into his chicken coop. There was nothing he hated worse then a skunk ripping up his chickens for sport. They didn't even eat what they killed; they just slaughtered all the chickens and threw the eggs onto the floor.

He glanced up at Fenny to see if she was still mad at him.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Then ya let me het hem! Some stranger, aye. Fine. Bu' he's my brother." It was a sibling thing. She could hit him, bit she'd be damned if anyone else did.

Hamish shrugged. "Et's no' the last time. Life's a long time. Bu' ya migh' get ta touch me sesster...after there's a reng on tha' fenger."

Fenny nuzzled the mule and scratched behind her ears as she walked up to her. Glancing over at the men, she shook her head. So he hit Hamish and suddenly they were best friends??

"Ach! Boys're stupet, Brandeh. Upside-doon, the lo' o' 'em." She looked up as John suggested they eat on the road. "Aye," was her only answer before stamping out the coals and starting to pack up.

"Gev et ten menits," Hamish reassured Little John with a tap on the shoulder. "She ne'er stays mad long." Before long, they were both ready to go.

[EvelynWillows]

"Aye, she can have ten minutes, but I dun understand why she's so mad! She should'a been mad if I hadn't hit ya." He looked over at Hamish. It seemed that now that they were both on the angered side of Fenny at least they had that in common. Little John's head wasn't hammering from the drink, though, so in that way he was a little better off than his future brother-in-law. John shook his head. "It's a good thing men only get married once; I'd hate to have to figure out more'n one woman."

As they rode down the path towards the farm Little John thought about what Hamish said. He as really just worried about her future; it wasn't much to ask that they wait until they were married. But what constituted touching? Right now his elbow was brushing hers. Was that touching?

"Fenny, when can we get married?" He finally asked her. "Is there a certain number of months you'll be needin' to decide if you really want me, or is there a special day you've always wanted to marry on?" He sniffed the air. "Smells like someone's burning their fields. It's a little late in the season for that." He picked up the reins and asked Brandy to pick up her pace. She knew they were almost home too, and was glad to oblige.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish chuckled a little. "She's the on'y one as kin het me," he explained. "S'how et's always ben. When Alastair an' Mary was leven, we was the two youngest so we were always closer. Mary were sex years older'n me, eight ta Fen, an' Alastair older'n her, so they ne'er really played weth us an' Da woulda beat 'em soundly ef they het us. So et's always ben her'n'me 'gainst the werld. Nobody as kin het me bu' her, nobody as kin het her bu' me. 'S always ben the rules." He smiled wryly when John expressed that he was grateful to only marry once, that figuring out more than one woman would be a task. "Well ya dun hafta always feger 'em ou', do ya?" He laughed and elbowed Little John good-naturedly...before suddenly realizing that this had been a priest. He very likely wasn't nearly as familiar with the ways and women of the world. "I mean...ah..." He cleared his throat awkwardly and spat before jumping into the back of the mule cart.

Fenny's annoyance ebbed away as they bounced along the little path. She was excited to see her new home. She was even more excited to actually have a home. She leaned her head on Little John's shoulder again and took his hand gently. She could feel Hamish's disapproving glare, but it was a mark of how things this morning had changed that he didn't say anything. She looked up at him with her eyes when he asked about getting married.

"Hmm?" She was mildly surprised that he'd been the one to breach the subject. "Oh...I dunno. I ne'er really thou' someone'd actually marry me, so I ne'er though' bout et much. I always fancied a fall wedden, bu' harvest es sich a busy time o' year...Ach! Bu' I love October!"

"September's me berthday! I wun ha' ya stealen me thunder!"

"Ya dunno when September es, ya nenny!"

"Neither do ye!"

Fenny sniffed the air as well and frowned. "Tha's no' grass as burnen..." she said slowly, concern slowly blooming in her chest like some awful, parasitic flower.

"Aye...s'tember..." Hamish said slowly, sitting up in the cart with a frown which quickly deepened into a scowl. This smell was all too familiar to them.

[EvelynWillows]

"I hope it's not Widow Fallow's fields," John said. He hurried Brandy along the pathway. The next homestead they passed was a neat and tidy yellow and white house. The chickens were happily pecking at the dirt and there seemed to be nothing amidst. Little John breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her grain still green and unburnt in the afternoon sun.

The road curved around a bend in the stream and then opened up into a large valley. A meadow filled the forest where a fire had cleared it years ago, and several homes dotted the neighborhood. Neat fences divided people's land. The stream crossed the meadow and one of the homes adjacent to it was burning. Many people had already lined up to form a water line to douse it, but they could tell that the barn was already destroyed and the house was in flames.

"Oh...Fenny..." John drew in a breath. "That's our house."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny raised her head from Little John's shoulder as she felt her throat clench tight with tears. Their house...their house...and it was in flames. And the barn and probably any livestock John had were already destroyed.

"Et's happenen all o'er again..." she choked. Hamish frowned and leaned forward to put a hand on his sister's shoulder.

"Fen..." he said quietly, looking sadly at the burning homestead. He'd never admit it, but he too had been looking forward to having an actual home.

"Thess weren't natural," she said through gritted teeth as the cart drew nearer. "I'll find the man as ded thess, an' I'll kell hem."

Without another word, Fenny jumped out of the cart and ran the rest of the way to join the fire line. She choked on the smoke as the wind blew it into her face; her throat and her eyes burned, but she didn't care. This had been her future home, and she was going to try harder than anyone to save it.

[EvelynWillows]

John rushed Brandy faster than he should have, and with the barrels and buckets on his cart they were able to help the others with the fire line. When all was said and done, part of the main house was burnt. It wasn't all of it, but enough that it would have to be rebuilt. The barn was gone but most of the animals had made it out alive. John's favorite milk cow was badly burned, though, and everyone shook their heads when they looked at her. She would probably need to be put down.

Neighbors patted him on the shoulder and pledged to come help rebuild. They were a fairly tight-knit Germanic community settled in Nottingham and many still spoke the thick, round language of their motherland. They greeted Hamish and Fenny with open arms and helped to set up some kind of shelter for them until a building party could be set up the following day.

Little John put his arm around Fenny's shoulders. "I'm sorry I let you down, Fenny." He said. "We'll fix our home up and it will be better than before."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish was surprised by the warmth with which they were received when the fire had been put out. It wasn't like home, where strangers were regarded with suspicion and treated coldly. He patted a large, older woman on the back as she slowly crushed the breath out of his lungs with a sympathetic hug.

After initial greetings, however, Fenny simply stood, staring at the house. She unfastened the large swath of cloth around her hips and draped over her shoulder and wrapped the tartan around herself as a shawl. She shook her head as Little John apologized.

"Et's no' yer faul'..." she said quietly. "Ye dedent let me doon." She folded her arms over her chest and leaned into John for warmth. "I meant wha' I said. Whoever ded thess better pray I ne'er find hem. I'll have hes guts fer bootlaces, an' I'll pull 'em ou' meself."

[EvelynWillows]

One of the women noticed John and the siblings and came over to them. She was an older woman, matronly and with blond hair braided and pinned beneath a kerchief. "You did'n tell us you were gettin' married, Johan! Dey told me dat you had a pretty rot kopf, but I din'a know!" She pinched his cheeks. "She's so lovely!"

"Who told you?" John asked. He looked at Hamish suspiciously. If someone had been around earlier in the day asking about them....

"Oh, dos nice men from das city. They were going to order your ale for their restaurant. Oh, dat would be a blessin'!"

Little John nodded slowly. He wasn't sure that revenge would be the best option. Wasn't it better to forgive? To love your enemies and give God the vengeance? He tightened his hold on Fenny. "Let's not do anythin' rash," he said to his future bride.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny blushed at the complements and mumbled thanks, scuffing her bare feet in the dirt. Her head snapped up, however, when the woman mentioned that someone had told the woman about her. No one could have possibly known! Except...men from the city. Brambleberry Wine. Hamish exchanged the look with John as best he could, now being fussed over by the woman who had seemed intent on squeezing the life from his body.

"Aye...a blessen endeed..." she agreed through clenched teeth. "Wha' ded they look like, Messus, these men?" Lillith was already halfway out of the scabbard by the time John had tightened his grip on her, effectively pinning her arm to her side. "Rash? Sence when ha' ya e'er known me ta be rash?" It was sarcasm, of course, and she hoped he'd take it as such. Still that didn't quell the sense of bloody vengeance rising in her heart. They'd left Scotland to get away from the prince and his men burning and pillaging, and now...when they were finally going to have a home again...

[EvelynWillows]

The woman described the man and his four friends as best she could, but honestly to her all Englishmen looked alike. They seemed to match the description of the Brambleberry Wine man. She invited them to sup with her that evening once they had settled in. One by one the others left, all with promises to come back and help rebuild the little farm.

"Fenny, maybe now that they've had their revenge they'll leave us alone, eh? Let go and let God, right?" He surveyed the damage in the little house. The main room and it's loft were still intact but the kitched and the mudroom were completely gone. John took a look around and smiled. "Well we have half a roof at least! And there's plenty of salvageable lumber here, and...I always was wishin' that Pa'd put the cabin on the higher section of the land. Now I can do it over again the way it should've been."

He looked over at Hamish and Fenny. "This is really a Godsend. You'll see."

[The Lifted Lorax]

The claymore was back in its scabbard, but Fenny maintained a white-knuckle grip on the hilt, staring at the destroyed barn and the damaged house. She pursed her lips as Little John spoke optimistically. Her home...

"I wan' their heeds..." she growled through gritted teeth. He'd used her own words against her. She hated that! Her grip on her sword relaxed a little as he pointed out the positives. Her shoulders eventually relaxed and she hugged him, stuffing her face into his chest. "Yer sich a stupet dreamer, ya ken?" It wasn't an insult; it was something Fenny wished she had more of in herself.

"We'll rebuild et," Hamish agreed, nodding. "Bu'...where'll the animals stay while we do?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

The claymore was back in its scabbard, but Fenny maintained a white-knuckle grip on the hilt, staring at the destroyed barn and the damaged house. She pursed her lips as Little John spoke optimistically. Her home...

"I wan' their heeds..." she growled through gritted teeth. He'd used her own words against her. She hated that! Her grip on her sword relaxed a little as he pointed out the positives. Her shoulders eventually relaxed and she hugged him, stuffing her face into his chest. "Yer sich a stupet dreamer, ya ken?" It wasn't an insult; it was something Fenny wished she had more of in herself.

"We'll rebuild et," Hamish agreed, nodding. "Bu'...where'll the animals stay while we do?"

[EvelynWillows]

"The animals?" he was reluctant to let Fenny go. "I suppose we can put some of them in the paddock with Brandy. We'll have to fix them a place before we do much for ourselves; they'll be feeding us after all." He looked out over the vines of hops and the fields of barley on his land and was glad that they weren't touched. "I suppose the bees are alright as well. They're still in the forest so they should be jus' fine."

He looked down at Fenny. "Dreamin' is a good thing, yes? And now I've got a better dream to dream." He squeezed her tight, glad that she wasn't devastated to have lost their home before she even got to step into it.

John looked over at Hamish. "Well, where do you want to put your cottage?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny sighed as she squeezed back, heartbroken. She was grateful for what had survived...but couldn't she have just this once gotten something good in her life without it being destroyed? She patted Little John's side.

"They better pray I dun ne'er see their faces again. There's more'n a few thengs tha' go bump en the night." She pursed her lips and nuzzled her face into his chest.

"My cottage?" Hamish looked stunned, then chuckled nervously. "Ya make me soun' like some sor' o' laird er sommat. My cottage? Well I mean...I suppose...sence you an' Fen..."

"Peck a spot, Hamish." Fenny's voice was muffled but testy. Hamish wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He'd never owned anything before, never mind land. And a house?

"Well...ah..." Hamish looked around. How much was John's? He pointed to a hill on the edge of the fields of golden barley. There was enough room for a small cottage and a garden. Helping Little John with his work, that was all Hamish would need. "Es tha' yers ta gev?" He'd known, of course, that they were going to work for the large man. What he hadn't known was the seemingly endless bounds of his generosity. He didn't know how he'd ever be able to pay him back.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John nodded. It was a good spot, and overlooked the roadway so that Hamish would have a good view of any coming his way. The spot backed up to the Kingswoods. As long as Hamish didn't kill any game in the woods he would be free of the sheriff's scrutiny.

He spent the rest of the evening with Fenny and Hamish, rounding up the other cow and the few sheep he had and putting them with Brandy in her little paddock. It seemed like a sad and sorry excuse for animal shelter. The well pump still worked after a bit of fixing, so they were able to get the animals water and to wash themselves off as well. He did what he could to make sure that their half-house was safe to go in before he let them into it. "The widow asked us to sup with her tonight," he said. "Her cottage is right over there, on the other side of the stream."

He had gotten a lamp set up even though it was still early in the evening and the sun was still visible. "Should we bring her a bottle of wine?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye," Hamish answered before Fenny could even open her mouth.

"Drunkard."

"Harpy."

"Frenchman."

"Ye take tha' back!"

"Red migh' be nice, fer the weather," Fenny smiled. Things seemed to be back to normal between her and Hamish, at least for now. "I feel like I should...I dunno. Take 'er flowers er summat? Et's a awful kindness on her part."

"I'm no' a Frenchman..." Hamish grumbled.

"Course no', dearie. These'd be loveleh fields fer wee bonny bairns ta run an' play." She smiled as she surveyed the fields in the glow of the late afternoon. "How many?" Her eyes fell on the stream and she pointed to it. "Es tha' fer bathen an' washen too? Er jus' fer animals?" She wasn't a strong swimmer, but she'd been able to hold her own in a middling deep, slow-moving river near her home as a child. She hadn't gone swimming in such a long time, and the stream near John's--their--home looked so inviting.

[EvelynWillows]

"The Widow Fallow's always been generous," Little John said. "She'd want it no other way. She's probably wantin' to see who got me to drop the habit after all these years," he chuckled. "Just wait; she'll have you quiltin' squares and making fruit leathers in no time." He stretched his sore muscles and was rewarded with a cracklin' down his spine.

He fetched a couple of bottles of wine. He had forgotten about Hamish's appetite and he didn't want the widow to not have a bottle to herself later. He looked at the stream. "You can bath in it, but once we rebuild the house you'll have a proper tub and a well pump for water," he said. "Are you fancying a dip, Fenny?"

The thought of her washing in that little stream made his heart do a double-flip. He eyed Hamish. "You could use a rinse too, brother. I imagine we're all a little ripe."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Promess?" Fenny asked, her eyes bright at the idea of being domestic. Her own mother had taught her a few things, but there had never been time for any of it between looking after the farm then traveling. "Ach, I'm a habet o' me own," she teased, nudging him gently. As she heard Little John's spine crack, she pressed her thumbs into his muscles on either side of his spine and gently massaged the knots for a few moments.

"A tub?" Fenny shifted a little, embarrassed. Tubs were expensive. "Revers an' ponds as all we e'er knew," she said hesitantly. She must have seemed so heathen to him. "Me clothes woulna dry en time, though, an' I dun ha' aneh spare." Bathing with siblings as a child was one thing, but despite her coarseness Fenny still had a good amount of modesty. She could feel months of dirt and mud in her hair, on her face, under her fingernails...but the stream was so out in the open and her only company were men. If she were to bathe it would have to be with her clothes on.

"Eh..." Hamish was hesitant, eying the stream warily.

"Ye'll go er I'll push ya en," his sister said flatly. He sighed.

"Fine."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John scratched his chin. "Oh, ehm, I suppose it wouldn't be seemly," he said, looking around for ideas. "Well what if Hamish and I pounded in some willow branches and then strung up a cloth between them? We could give you a bit 'o privacy and you could just shake out the dress and use it again after," he suggested. He felt kind of stupid. What was he thinking? Fenny had told him that she hadn't a lick to her name, and now she was probably embarrassed about having no clothing either. He was suddenly ashamed about all that he had been given when his father died.

"Or if you want, Fenny, I can fill up the brewing tub and you can have a private place to wash down in the room aside where the kitchen was. Hamish and I don't need privacy, but you might want some. I wish I had saved some of me mother's dresses. I jus' never thought there'd be another woman livin' in this home." He smiled sheepishly.

"What do you think, Luv?" He grinned and looked at Hamish. Then his expression changed. "Oh! I mean that for Fenny. Not that I dun like you, it's jus' that she's the one I was callin' Luv and...ach! You know wha' I mean!"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I'll um...en...the rever..." It would have been an awkward topic on its own, but Hamish standing right there only made it worse for her. "I dun thenk I'd add a very good note ta the brew." She smiled nervously. "Ach! Et's so much trouble fer ya ta go through, though, jus' fer a bath!"

She smiled and patted Little John's arm. He was thoughtful. "Et's arrigh'. Thess ol' theng's lasted me seven years, et'll last a fair time longer'n tha', I'd wager. Thess es why ya on'y use Scottesh wool." She brandished her tartan fondly.

"Jason hemself coulna had better fleece," Hamish agreed solemnly. He then did a double-take as John grinned at him and held his hands up, palms out and began backing away slowly. Fenny pursed her lips and kicked at him, calling him a name.

"The stream's jus' fine fer me, dearie. I dun need ta steck me nose en high places, I ken who I am." She smiled proudly. She was a Highlander and she didn't need any fancy bathtub.

[EvelynWillows]

Seven years. It must be time for a jubilee for them, thought John.

He simply smiled at her and went to fetch what towels were left in the house. "They're a bit smoky," he said, offering Fenny the best of the lot. "I'm afraid all my soap's under the fallen beam."

The water was cool; snow melt flowing over several miles of ground. Little John had found his ax and a mallet and was fast trying to give Fenny a measure of privacy. He felt a bit awkward doing that for her and wondered if there might have been a better solution that a smarter man would have come up with, but he couldn't think of any himself. Once they had a sort of triangular structure set up her her he went a bit down stream to clean himself off. He'd have to take them down to the lake once the work on the house had started. Perhaps on the resting day they could go for a swim, catch a few fish...he smiled. It was nice to have others to think about.

As he bathed himself he caught sight of one of Fenny's ankles peeking out from under the screen and his chest tightened in want. Sure, he had seen her bare wee feet but this was a bit different. He knew that she was undressed behind there. He swallowed slowly and tried to pull his eyes away from the sight.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Thank'ee," Fenny said quietly, taking the towel. She'd never felt anything so soft. "Ne'er needed soap afore, dun matter now." She shouldn't have said that. Now he'd think she was dirty! But soap was just so expensive...

She shifted awkwardly as Little John cut off tree limbs and hammered them into the ground. She felt silly for requesting such privacy, but was too embarrassed not to have it. She smiled at him before stepping behind the little enclosure. This didn't feel natural, a stream with a barrier. Shrugging, she first unwrapped her tartan and laid it by the bank of the stream, then pulled her dress off over her head and hung it over the edge of the screen. The water was cold but refreshing as she stepped in gingerly at first, then waded deeper in. When she sat the water was only to her waist, but it was more than enough to bathe. She closed her eyes in pleasure as she laid down to get her head wet and scrubbed her scalp vigorously with her fingernails.

Not knowing that Little John had already gone down to the stream himself, Fenny started humming then gradually singing a song she'd known (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhnPOUyEomc&feature=fvst) since she was very young. It had been stuck in her head for the past couple of days, and though she took great pleasure in singing she refused without any sort of accompaniment. She didn't know whether she was a good singer or not, but without any sort of instrument she felt on the spot and embarrassed. Mary had sung this song sometimes; though boys generally didn't like Fenny for a wife once they got to know her and Mary, being of a milder temperament, was more sought-after, Mary had been convinced that Fenny would grow to be fairer than she and teased she'd have to push her into the loch before she'd be able to get a husband.

As she sat up and tried to comb through the tangles in her hair with her fingers, Fenny lost her balance and slipped. She made a noise of surprise as the stream carried her, but caught herself in time that she didn't break the screen. Her leg had slipped underneath it, up to her knee, but she was easily able to pull it back out.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John dressed and combed his hair as best as he could with his fingers. He rubbed his scruffy chin and frowned. It was too much to try to shave right now, but later...perhaps for chapel. He wondered if Fenny would prefer him clean shaven or not.

He tried to not look over at where she was bathing and instead wondered how Hamish was doing. He wrapped two bottles of red wine and put them in a pack, then waited for the others. It would be a short walk to the widow's house. He could already smell good things wafting in the air; German smells and fresh grass was a good scent. Even the lingering smell of smoke was good; it was the scent of new beginnings.

Several of the chickens that had been scattered had returned. As John watched them scratching at the dirt he remembered the trouble with the tax men in Nottingham. He had a sudden fear and went to look through what was left of the house, searching for his desk and the papers that he'd need for the taxman. There in the drawer was half of what he needed. The other half was ashes. He looked up and wondered what good was intended with this, because he couldn't see good coming from having to pay last year's taxes twice, and with penalties on top of it all.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish emerged from the water, shaking it out of his hair like a dog. Slipping on his shirt, he re-fastened his kilt as he went.

"Hurry up!" he shouted as he passed the little partition that had been made for his sister.

Throwing the remaining fabric over his shoulder, he paused for a moment and looked at the dress hanging over the branches. He shouldn't...it was an open space and Little John was sure to be looking for an excuse to see his sister naked. But...it was so tempting! Hesitating only a moment longer, he quietly snatched the dress and continued on his way as if nothing had happened.

"She should be ou' soon," he said as he strode up the grassy slope to the cottage, quietly nudging the dress under the blanket in the cart. Almost immediately after, a screech rent the quiet, still air.

"HAMISH!!!"

Moments later, a very soggy, very upset little sister came marching up the slope after him. The towel hadn't been enough to cover her properly, and so Fenny had wrapped herself hastily in her tartan. Grass stuck to her feet and her hair was dripping all over the place.

"Where es et?" she demanded.

"Where's wha'?"

"Ye ken wha'! Me clothes!"

"I dunno wha' yer talken bou', Fen. Ya sure ye dedent leave 'em where they'd get carried off?" Hamish had a difficult time keeping a straight face.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John snapped out of his thought when he heard Fenny scream. Her song had been going through his head and lulling him into a gentle sort of happiness, but now it was gone and he heard her yelling for Hamish.

Or was it...yelling at Hamish?

He ran out of the house and towards the stream, all kinds of thoughts going through his head. The culprits had come back! The Brambleberry Wine man was abducting his beloved, or Hamish had tripped and was laying with his head bleeding into the stream....or....

She was standing there with the tartan wrapped around herself, dripping, wet...dried bits of grass and leaves stuck to her glistening mess. She was yelling at Hamish about a missing dress and she was a complete mess, and she was beautiful.

He stood there for a moment and stared. Then he blushed. He turned around, then back again. What should he do? Little John jogged over to his cart and grabbed the brown robe he had hid in for so many years and ran over to were Fenny was, wrapping her around the shoulders. "What happened, Fenny?" He looked at Hamish. "Did the goats run off with her dress?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Eh..."

"Aye, Hamish, were et the goats?" Fenny demanded, smiling a brief thanks at Little John and clutching the habit around her, taking the step foward. "I thenk fer yer sake et had better be the goats."

"Ach! Fine!" Hamish rolled his eyes. "Et's jus' a bet o' fun, dun ge' all werked up 'boot et." He shuffled over to the cart and grabbed her dress from beneath the blanket. "Here."

"Yer lucky I ha' me tartan," Fenny scolded, snatching the dress from the air as he tossed it to her. "I kin stell throw off e'ertheng an' run stark naked 'round the glen, ef ya wan'. I'm sure Lette John woulna mind."

"Ye woulna dare..." Hamish narrowed his eyes.

"Wanna be'?"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John looked from brother to sister, dumbfounded. "You mean you took the dress?" The idea of playing a practical joke had never occurred to him. He put an arm around Fenny's waist. He looked down at her. "I don't know if that would be a good idea," he said to her. "It's hard enough waiting for six months or so to marry you. October's a long way off, and if you run around naked..."

Then the thought hit him that she might be bluffing. He furrowed his brow and stepped away a moment. These emotional, jovial Scots were not what he was used to. He was used to serious, stoic people who took every word seriously and never cracked a smile unless it was by accident.

"Um, perhaps I should jus' wait," he said, not sure what to do next. "I'll give you some privacy to dress, Fenn."

The sky was beginning to darken with the violet and crimson of night. The widow's windows were glowing with firelight and the smells of bread and meat found them across the stream. Little John's stomach was starting to growl.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny looked up at Little John as he put an arm around her waist. She liked the feel of his arms around her, but he was speaking nonsense. If she wouldn't bathe in front of him, what made him think she'd run naked around the fields? Confusion turned to embarrassment on his behalf when he started talking about it being difficult to wait til October to marry her. Then, finally, he seemed to catch on.

"There's a lad, ya daftie," she smiled, patting him on the arm good-naturedly. "Ye too, Hamish. Turn roond. Thanks ta ye we dunna ha' much time an' the wida's waiten." Once both men were turned around, she set the habit on the cart and unwapped her tartan before quickly slipping her dress back over her head. "Arrigh', less go."

She wrapped her tartan back around her as they turned back around. The way she wrapped it made it look for the most part like an apron, but there was excess fabric which she threw over her shoulder and, in cold weather, wrapped about her neck like a scarf. It had been her father's tartan; by the time he'd died, Hamish had had one of his own or else he would have gotten it. That was another possible reason, at least in recent years, that men had found her a bit strange, but it was her way of honoring her father's memory.

"Ach! I'm starven! C'mon!" Fenny's stomach twisted and growled as she wrung out her hair. Not wanting to drip all over the Widow Fallow's floors, she separated her hair into sections and braided it quickly in a thick braid that fell a little past her waist. She hadn't a comb, otherwise she'd have tried to manage the tangles she knew still lurked in her unruly mane.

[EvelynWillows]

Widow Fallow was an older blond woman with a huge smile. She welcomed Hamish and Fenny into her home with rib-crushing hugs. She had the strong arms of a woman used to hauling children on a hip while she milked cows or washed clothing with the other arm. She had several children in the house, the youngest who looked about six years of age. It was chaotic, warm, and full of energy at her home.

She prepared a huge meal of roasted pork with little onions and carrots, a huge bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy, long green beans, and several pies sill cooling on the window sill. Children ran around and set plates on the table and chased barn cats around the house.

"Et's such gut to meet Johan's new family! Ja, even though vie hab un schlecht, ah... a bad ting, das feur." She poured thick, creamy warm milk sweetened with honey for everyone, the seven children included. They seemed to settle down and stare in aw at the new neighbors. The little girls were fascinated by Fenny's hair and touched it timidly when they thought she wasn't looking. The boys all seemed used to Little John's presence and formed an endless line of show-and-tell, bringing toads and lizards to fascinate their guests with and one even brought a jar full of tadpoles to show off.

A boy of about eight kept staring at Hamish and finally asked him "Why're you wearin' a dress?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"New family?" Hamish frowned, unsure whether yet he liked the label in association with Little John.

"Aye, well et's lovely ta ha' sich a warim welcome, Messus," Fenny smiled, setting a hand on Little John's arm.

She glanced back when she felt shy little hands on her hair and smiled, pretending not to notice. As she sat in the warm house she delighted in watching the children run around helter-skelter. She had counted seven so far, but none of them would sit still long enough for her to ever be certain. It didn't escape her notice that already most of the children were comfortable with Little John, and she took note at how he interacted with them. He still hadn't answered her question about how many children he wanted. She couldn't help but chuckle when a line of toads, frogs, lizards, all sorts of slimy things were presented to him, wanting praise. She hoped their home would be very much like this in a few years' time. When one of the boys asked her brother why he was wearing a dress, she smirked at him.

"Aye, Hamish. Why're ya wearen a dress, hey?"

"Ach!" He glared at Fenny before turning back to the boy, flustered. "Et's no' a dress!"

"Et's a skert," Fenny corrected.

"Oh aye bloody help ye are!"

"Language," she warned sternly. She was certain the widow wouldn't appreciate her hospitality being returned by teaching her children bad words.

"Et's no' a dress," he started again, ignoring his sister. "Et's a kelt. Et's ah...et's wha' my people wear enstead o' troosers." It was very clear Hamish was uncomfortable around children.

Fenny looked at the table and her stomach growled. This was too much! It was more at one time than they'd had in the past six months! She felt as though she was taking advantage, but with so many children she supposed the widow would have been cooking a similar amount anyway.

"Es there anehtheng ye want help weth?" she offered, feeling as though she had to make herself useful in order to deserve such a fine meal.

[EvelynWillows]

"I want a kelt!" Declared the eight year old. He looked at Hamish in unabashed awe. "You dun even have to take off yer pants ta pee!"

"Ew!" said his older sister, a blond-braided girl named Gertie. "That's brutto!" She made a sour face and stuck out her tongue at her brother. "You're so dees-gus-ting!"

"Now Stefan! Vie dun say such things at the table," scolded Widow Fallow. She handed Fenny a large spoon, handle first. "Vood you be a dear und dish out plates fer das Kindern?" She smiled and simultaneously swatted a little hand that was creeping towards the pies. "Dat's fer after dinner, Liebchen."

Little John remembered the wine and brought it out. "Thank you for invitin' us to dinner, Mari. It means a lot to me to have a hot meal." He put the wine on the counter and looked for cups. Then he looked back at the rambunctious kids lining up to get their plates from Fenny. The boys pushed and shoved, and the girls did their best to stomp on toes to keep their place in line. "Do you want me to pour some for just the adults or for the Kindern as well?"

Widow Fallow gave him a mock look of horror. "Friar Johan!" She looked back at Fenny. "You have your hands full wit dis one, ja?"

John grinned and shrugged, shooting Hamish a look of shared humor. "It might'a calmed them down," he chuckled. He gave a glass of honeyed milk to the children and poured wine for the adults, though he did give the most rambunctious a small nip of wine behind his mother's back, putting his finger to his lips in their shared secrecy. The little boy grinned and went off with his mouthful of treasure.

Once the little ones had their plates they into the living room to sprawl about with their dinner. Apparently they were used to giving up the little table when guests were about.

The widow sighed and motioned to the little table in her dining room. "Well now, vie can talk like civilized Mensche, ja? Bitte, have a seat und tell me all about you." She gave Fenny a warm rub on her back and handed her a glass of wine. "I vant to know all about the Madchen who won the friar's heart."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Er..." Oh dear...what had he started? "Aye lad, s'righ'. On'y a Scot as kin wear a kelt." Hamish shifted uncomfortably and looked desperately to Little John for help. "Now ah...go getcher food an' ah...min' yer ma. There's a lad."

Fenny took the spoon and waited for the children to line up. She smiled and shook her head at the children pushing and prodding. It reminded her of her own family and those of her friends back home.

"Oi now, min' yerselves!" she scolded gently. "C'mon, oldest ta youngest er nona ya'll get anehthen. There ya are." She did her best to dish out even amounts so that nobody could complain that someone got more than someone else. She poked John in the arm with the back of the serving spoon as he offered to pour wine for the children. "Ach! Bad enfluence ye are! Aye, I'll have me hands more'n full weth thess one. Bu' tha's the price for a good man, hey?" Fenny watched as John gave the wildest of them a mouthful of wine while his mother wasn't looking and shook her head. "Maybe we shoulna have bairns; ye'll spoil 'em rotten!" She nudged him gently before filling her own plate.

Talk about herself? But...she wanted to eat. She felt like a ravenous wolf and from the look on Hamish's face as he sat to his own plate he felt the same. Even when they'd had a home they hadn't been well-off enough to afford all of this. Taking her glass of wine she sat between Hamish and Little John. She didn't even know how to talk about herself.

"Well ah...Me name's Fenny...thess es me brother Hamish..." God she sounded so stupid. "We're um...we're from Scotland, the Highlands boot two days journey sooth o' Aviemore. We came doon here ta Englend after our Pa died an' we coulna kep the farm, ben roamen round e'er sence, bout sex years er so. No' really homeless, jus'...rovers, aye? So ah...we met John--er, Johan--at the fair en Nottengham yesserday. An' uh...yeah..." she finished lamely before stuffing roast pork and some mashed potatoes into her mouth, feeling stupid. Her eyes widened in surprise then closed in pleasure and she chewed more slowly. She'd died. She'd died and this was Heaven, and that was the end of it. "Thess es wonderful," she said finally after she'd swallowed.

[EvelynWillows]

The widow laughed and blushed when Fenny complimented her cooking. "Aw, thank you Fenny. I love to cook. I have to, with all these Kindern!" She poured Hamish a second cup of wine and smiled. "Ah...den you met yesterday? Just yesterday? Gestern?!" She looked over at Little John with a bit of shock.

"Haben Sie ihr schwanger?" she asked, a little harshly as she waved her hand towards Fenny.

"Nein! Ich habe nicht mit ihr geschlafen! Ich meine, Ich habe nicht mit ihr geschlafen, aber nicht mit ihr...ach!" He opened and closed his mouth. "Bitte!" He shook his head. "I vould never do such a thing Frau Fallow. Nie!" He looked over at Fenny. "Tell her dat I hab, have been honorable to you. She thinks that you are with child and so we are marrying." The more flustered he became the stronger his accent got. The tips of his ears were red with embarrassment at Widow Fallow's question about why they were together so quickly. He looked over at Hamish. "And she is not with child, I promise!"

Mari Fallow smiled and looked over at Fenny. "Well, if you needs a midvife, Tilly up the hill is so gut, and Friar Johan has turned a few babes, ja? You're in gut hands, liebchen."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny raised her eyes and turned very, very red. Hamish choked on his potatoes and rose, claymore halfway drawn. Fenny scowled at him and pulled him back into his chair. Her mouth worked for a few moments, flustered, and a wierd squeaking sort of croaking sound emitted from her throat.

"I...Eh...No!" she finally managed through the shock. "No! He's ne'er touched me!" She turned to her brother. "He's ne'er touched me," she insisted. "Well, I mean...he's held me han' an' all, an' we've hugged, bu'...no!" She was nearly purple with embarrassment up to her hairline and wished desperately she could crawl under the table and hide. "I'm no' pregnen', I swear. I may be a wild wemin bu' I got me vertue. An' you!" she pointed at Hamish so quickly and suddenly he flinched. "Ef ya kep tha' up I'm maken a no weapons a' the denner table rule."

She looked with embarrassment at Little John then looked away. It had been quick...but it wasn't like they were getting married tomorrow! She felt her face grow hotter as the kind woman informed her of a midwife in the neighborhood.

"Er...thanks..." she mumbled, mortified.

[EvelynWillows]

The widow chuckled and put a calming hand on Little John's arm. "Not to worry, ja? She's a feisty one! She'll be a strong woman and you will be blessed with so many Kindern! When are you marryin'?"

Little John had just settled back down and was enjoying the wonderful food. Suddenly he found roast pork and mashed potatoes to be the most interesting thing in the world. He stared at his plate while his ears returned to their normal color and tried to not do anything that could be misconstrued as 'touching' Fenny, though he really wanted to reach under the table and hold her hand in secret. He kept glancing up to make sure that Hamish and his claymore were safely ensconced in his chair.

The children were almost done, most having scarfed their food down before they even sat down. Widow Fallow occasionally would look up and scold a child or warn her away from the pie, reminding them that it was for after supper.

Little Stephan grumbled. "You eat so slow Friar Johan! Your name's Schnell, not Snail!" That elicited a roar of laughter from his siblings and made him very proud indeed. He looked over at the pies, hoping that his clever quip would make dessert come more quickly.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny smiled, embarrassed, as the large woman called her feisty and wished many children on them. Her blush was slowly receding and she'd made it to a clashing pink. The comments about children and marriage weren't helping. All she wanted was to hide her face in John's chest until they left, but the food was absolutely helping. Hamish was already on his third glass of wine and she was having a hard time not wolfing down the delicious food.

"We eh...we dunno..." Fenny said at length after realizing Little John wasn't going to answer. "We was thenken maybe October, bu' we dunno. I mean...I'll wanna go back home ferst, o'course, bu' there's work 'round here ta be done too."

Hamish and even Fenny chuckled at the child's quip. Hamish looked around his sister, pink in the face from drink.

"Th' laddie pulled a righ' one on ye, den't 'e?" He giggled a bit more and Fenny elbowed him gently in the ribs.

"Mind yerself, Hamish. Tha's yer last."

"Yer no' me Ma."

"No but she'd've died o' shame ta see ya acten like a common drunkard." The sibling stared very hard at each other for a moment before Hamish backed down, looking sullen. Fenny looked over at Mari Fallow and smiled apologetically.

[EvelynWillows]

Widow Fallow smiled. "Well if he gets too silly we'll have him watch me Kindern while I go to town, now won't we?" She chuckled. "Nothin'll sober up a man faster'n a house full of leetle rug rats." She nodded knowingly to Fenny. "Best way ta keep a man home, eh?"

John was considering the calendar. "Fenny, if you want to go home first, we'll have to go in the winter or after the spring planting." He scratched his chin. "I dun mind, it's just we'll need to plan these things out. How long of a trip is it anyway?"

He was thinking if the harvest and of little babies being born, and of the seasons and the weather. He wanted to make her happy, even if it meant putting the farm to rest for a season.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny smiled. "I s'pose," she agreed with the good widow. "By the by, ef they ever need watchen, any of 'em, ya jus' breng 'em 'round, hey? En me vellege, all us wee ones looked after one another, an' Hamish hisself's like looken after a child." She nudged him gently.

She frowned at Little John pointing out that they may have to go in the winter. She didn't much like the sound of that journey; she'd spent too many winters without shoes or skins to keep her warm, and Scotland got much worse, especially in the mountains where she lived. She shrugged when he asked how long of a trip it was.

"Dun righ'fully ken," she answered after some thought. "Me'n'Hamish den't really kep track o' the time. Bu' et's a long walk, I remember tha'. Our uncle Argyle, he still got Ma's wedden dress...et was s'posedta go ta Mary." She bit her lip, trying to remember how long it had taken them to walk from the Highlands. A few months at the very least.

[EvelynWillows]

"Well we canna always go in the spring," John was thinking now. "If'n I dun breed the sheep or the cow and let them go dry then we can plant and then perhaps I can hire a lad or two to watch the farm. He looked at Willow Fallow. "Mayhaps one or two o'the elder lads, ja? And we can take a little holiday then. Where's that dress of your Ma's, Fenny?"

He had finished dinner and a second glass of wine, but due to his bulk perhaps it didn't seem to affect him. He considered the situation. "Do ya think Farmer Joseph would let me rent his plow horse? I'd bet we could make the trip in half the time on horses, dun ya think, Hamish?"

He was really starting to think now.

Widow Fallow smiled at Fenny. "I dunna know much about travel but I do know this much...." she nodded at the seven pairs of eager eyes looking at them from the hearth room, "it's time for pie."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Bu' I dun wancha ta lose profit, John," Fenny said with concern in her voice. "The house arready half burnt an' a barn en need o' builden, we'll need all we kin get." She chewed her lip with worry. "Et's back home. Ef he en't dead, Uncle Argyle has et, er rather hes wife do. Bu'...there's so much ta be done!"

Fenny too had finished dinner and was halfway through her second glass and feeling a little light-headed. Hamish had snuck a fourth when his sister wasn't looking. He knew when she'd had a couple her eye wasn't as sharp when it came to keeping an eye on him, and he knew that like him, she couldn't resist a good cup of alcohol no matter what kind.

"Hmm?" Hamish raised his eyebrows mildly. At the moment Little John could have been all over his sister and he wouldn't have minded much. He was sleepy. "Aye, horses're always faster. Bu'...we dun ha' horses...do we...?"

"Oh Missus..." Fenny groaned when she announced time for pie. "We ha'nna had a meal like thess en...e'er. I dunno ef I kin fet pie." She looked mournfully over at the pies on the windowsill. "Stell...a proper Scot a'ways tries." She smiled tiredly and took another sip of wine. She put her hand on Little John's thigh distractedly and patted it lovingly. She'd always seen this sort of sign of affection between her parents and thought it appropriate for the moment, though she didn't know why.

[EvelynWillows]

The widow looked at Hamish and Fenny and was fairly pleased with how stuffed they were. In her family food equated love, and so seeing them protest that they were nearly too full to have desert made her feel like she had done her duty. She heaped huge portions of apple pie, made from last autumn's harvest, on everyone's plates. The children alone ate a pie and a half.

Little John had to intervene once when a couple of the children started fighting over who got the larger piece. Finally he took a bite out of each plate and said "Okay? Now you're both exactly the same!" The two boys shot him a suspicious look but slunk away to eat what remained of their pie in piece.

"You know," he said to the widow, "I told Robert that ya never shoulda taught the children how to talk."

She just laughed and nodded to Fenny. "He did, I remember. You were always a good friend to him, Johan." She nearly grinned at Hamish when he took another stolen glass of wine. "Careful there, you dun want to fall in the stream and drown on the way back home!"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I'm fine, Messus," Hamish slurred. "Ef a Scot canna hold hes sperets, he dunna ha' a righ' ta call hisself a Scot." Fenny sighed and shook her head.

"I gev up. He'll ha' hisself a mighty fine headache en the mornen an' serves hem righ'." She poked John in the chest as she poured herself her third ("jus' one more") and nursed it. "An' ye, stealen food from bairns. Fer shame." She winked to let him know she was teasing. "No' teachen 'em ta talk, though, es a good idea ef e'er I heard one." She chuckled and scooted closer to Little John, taking another bite of pie. She was nearly halfway through with her piece before she finally gave up. "Truly I'm sorry, Messus...bu' I jus' canna eat n'more," she confessed, laying the fork on the plate with a gentle clatter.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John looked over at Fenny. Her hand was warm and strong on his thigh. For such a little Lass she was very capable, and the occasional squeeze she gave him sent shivers of pleasure up his leg and into his center. He'd never been touched by a woman like that before and the sensation was entirely new and delightful. He put a hand on her leg under the table and returned the squeeze. He reached over with his other hand and wiped a tiny fleck of crumb from her lip before putting it between his own. "That's the sweetest bite, right there," he said through sparkling eyes.

He turned to Widow Fallow. "Mari you did us a great blessin' with this meal and the warmth of your home. Thank you."

"Ja, not a worry, Friar. It's the least I coulda dun to welcome you and your bride home. And you too, Hamish. Any friend of Johan's is welcome." She smiled and wiped her hands with her towels before calling her three oldest children to come clear the table. "Now you be off and sleep well," she said to her guests. "Tomorrah plenty o'the neighbors are bound to be around poking to help."

She wouldn't accept offers to help clean, saying that the children were good for doing a little work around the place. Sure enough despite their seeming anarchy earlier in the evening they all seemed well-trained in their chores. Even the littlest boy got a wet rag and began wiping down the chairs.

"Now be of!" Shooed the widow. "And you! Hamish! Watch out fer that stream, y'hear me?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny shivered as Little John returned the gesture of affection. She couldn't help but bite her lip and smile as he wiped the crumb from her lip. She tried not to blush too hard as he squeezed her thigh gently and hoped that if she had it would be attributed to the drink.

"Aye, thank ye," Fenny smiled. "Et's a blessen endeed. Fer all o' us." She nudged Hamish, who was beginning to snooze lightly in his chair.

"Ach! Hmm? Aye!" he started awake and nodded in frantic agreement with whatever had just been said, looking wildly around.

The Ballochs offered to help clean. It was the least they could do after such a fine meal. But despite their insistence, the good woman would have none of it. As they stood to leave Fenny hugged Widow Fallow again and bade her goodnight with a smile, assuring her she'd look out for her brother on the way home. She kept a firm grip on Hamish's shirt as he staggered along. She peered sidelong at John in the dark before sliding her free hand in his and lacing their fingers.

Fenny felt safe enough to let go of her brother's collar as they walked up the lawn to the house and he walked ahead of them a little, mumbling something about them being too slow. As they came up to the house Fenny saw that he'd once again climbed into the cart. Apparently that had been comfortable enough the night before. Giggling a little she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"So...where'm I ta sleep?" She turned to face Little John and wrapped both arms around his middle, looking up at him. The mischievous twinkle in her eye was hard to miss, even in the starlight.

[EvelynWillows]

The night was gorgeous; fresh grass and the faint hint of lilacs perfumed the air. The stars were brighter than he'd ever remembered seeing them, and Fenny's hand was in his. The little cottage looked inviting even in its half-downed state. Little John smiled as Hamish climbed back into the wagon. "Creature of habit, eh?" he gave Fenny a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"Well, I was thinkin' that you and Hamish could have the loft," he said, looking down and catching Fenny's glint. "Ah...maybe you could still sleep there and I'd take the chair next to the hearth." He felt a little chill of danger shoot through him and cleared his throat.

Careful John, it seemed to say. But looking at her he couldn't figure out what the warning was all about. He felt warm and tingly and happy, even with his home half-burnt.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well...arrigh'..." Fenny twisted side-to-side and giggled a little, looking down then back up at Little John. "Ef ya wan'. S'long as ya thenk ye'll be warim enough wi'out me." She led the way to the door, weaving a little.

Stop it. You're drunk. You'll make a fool of yourself.

I'm not drunk! Well...maybe a little...

Once inside the little cottage, Fenny kept a hold of Little John's hand and led the way over to the ladder that she could only assume led up to the loft. She took both his hands again and faced him, smiling. She'd never felt this euphoric before, even after a few pints, and couldn't help but attribute it to her future husband. She looked up at him in silence for a few moments.

"Well...g'nigh'..." she said at last.

Even standing on her toes she wouldn't be able to reach higher than his chest, so taking a step or two backward she stepped up two rungs of the ladder and leaned forward and kissed Little John. It was a gentle kiss, warm and loving. But in time it deepened to something more. The slightly intoxicated lass eventually untangled her fingers from the priest's and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, playing lightly with hair at the nape of his neck as she renewed a deeper kiss. She'd never felt like this before, all tingly and warm and happy and full of love. She needed some way to make him understand that, because words at the moment just weren't enough.

[EvelynWillows]

He watched her take a few steps up the ladder before she turned around and pulled him into a kiss. As it deepened into a little more than 'just a kiss' he felt stirrings deep in his loins that were both exhilarating and frightening. He moved close to her, returning her embrace and running his hand up and down her back until it rested on the roundness of her buttocks.

Careful, careful...

He pulled away from her kiss and looked at her. "Fenny...I...we..." he swallowed, his throat suddenly thick with desire. "There are are extra blankets under the bed if'n you get cold." He didn't want to let her go. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he knew that he was one step from making a dishonest woman out of her.

He kissed her forehead. "I do love you." He moved his hand to her waist and rested there with his face close to hers. "Can you climb the stairs okay, what with the wine...?" He wanted her to say yes, that she could, but another part of him wanted her to ask him to come up with her. His heart thudded against his chest as he took a breath and waited for her to tell him what he should do.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's heart thudded faster as she felt John's hands come to rest on her rear. She pressed herself closer to him, nipping at his lip and gripping his hair a little harder. The same voice in the back of her head that had told her she was drunk was screaming at her now to stop this while she still could. It reminded her of what she'd said earlier in the night, that she may be a wild woman but she still had her virtue. She tried very hard not to listen, and was regretful when John pulled away. Her face was flushed with drink, but more now with emotion and want.

"I love ya too," she whispered shakily back, leaning on him still. "S'much. I...I've ne'er felt like thess afore."

She studied his face as he asked if she could climb the stairs alright. She knew what he was really asking, and she didn't know what answer to give. On one hand she knew she should say yes, that she was fine, and tell him to go away. But on the other, she wanted to tell him no and that she may need more than blankets to keep her warm tonight. Her chest was tight with want but there was that last little bit of sobriety left telling her it was a bad idea. She finally settled on an answer to appease them both.

"I...I dunno..." she finally said breathlessly. "I thenk...maybe...bu' I dunno..." She leaned in and kissed him again, much more briefly but just as thick with desire. "I...we...should go ta bed..." Ball was in his court now; he could lead and for once she wouldn't be opposed to following.

[EvelynWillows]

The part of John that was a man told him to climb up there and make her his completely. He knew that she wouldn't stop him and that she'd welcome the intimacy, but he also knew that things done could not be undone. He had already kissed her before they had married, and like he predicted kissing led to wanting more.

Much, much more.

The part of him that had been a man of the cloth and who loved his God still warned him from injuring the woman he was supposed to protect. He swallowed again and looked up at her. Her round bosom was heaving softly, her curves outlined in the nearly full moon of the night. She looked like a vision from heaven looking down at him. Her lips were slightly parted and the memory of their taste nearly unmanned him.

"Fenny," He stepped back one small step. "I'll be here to catch you if you fall." His hands clenched tightly on themselves. It took every ounce of control he had to say no to himself and to her. "I'll be right down here, and if you be needin' anything...just call me. Good night."

[The Lifted Lorax]

The disappointment was enough to make her want to cry. Still, with a sinking feeling she knew he was right. And it had taken him this long just to give up his habit, it would be particularly cruel of her to convince him to do something he might regret later.

Eve indeed said the voice of reason, who she was quickly growing to hate.

She wanted to pull him back when he stepped away, to kiss him all over and call him her own. But she didn't. She opted instead to lean forward and give him a brief, chaste kiss and lean her forehead against his. She closed her eyes, trying to quell the great disappointment. She didn't want to make him do what wasn't right.

"I need you, John," she whispered quietly before kissing him on the forehead and turning to begin climbing the ladder up to the loft. Her face fell as she climbed and once up she made herself comfortable in the bed.

[EvelynWillows]

His heart clenched when she whispered that to him.

I need you, John.

He stood at the base of the stairs and recited all the books of the Old Testament to himself. Then he recited the New. He tried to breath shallowly to quell the dizziness in his head as he watched her legs disappear over the side of the loft. She was so alone and the nights got cold. There was no fire in the hearth. Even if there were, it wouldn't warm a house with no roof.

Little John climbed the steps and crawled over to where Fenny was. "Stay under the covers Luv," he whispered as he slid next to her on top of the covers and put an arm around her. He found her wild hair and nuzzled his nose into the wonderful fragrance of her. "I just want to hold you. I just need to be close to you tonight."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's eyes opened as she heard footsteps on the stair. Her heart jumped and her breathing quickened, unsure if she was ready for what would come next or not. She rolled over onto her side as he laid down next to her and wrapped an arm around her, heart pounding against her ribcage. She slid a hand up his chest and rested it on his neck.

"Jus' touch me, m'love," she whispered back, scooting closer to him and kissing him again. "Woncha ge' cold wi'out a blanket?" she asked as she nuzzled her face into his neck, lips brushing his skin.

Even if this was all that happened tonight, she was happy. Fenny realized it wasn't a rejection of sin that had disappointed her, it was the idea of spending the night alone. With his warm body next to hers, she was content. She'd wanted him, sure, and wanted him still...but if he wasn't willing and she was unsure that it was the right thing to do at this moment, then she would settle for this. This was a good arrangement.

[EvelynWillows]

"Mmm..." He felt the tingle of her lips against his neck and thrilled at her warm femininity. "Me heart's warm. That's all that matters." He tightened his grip around her waist and smiled in contentment. His body stirred against her and he felt the flush of embarrassment. Hopefully she hadn't felt his reaction and thought he was being improper.

"Maybe this way Hamish won't feel the need to string me up," he teased softly as sleep over took him. "Maybe he'll-- just punch-- my-- nose--" His breathing slowed until he was snoring softly next to her.

Unless they stayed up the night would pass peaceably for them in their first day home.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye...warim heart'n'soul," Fenny agreed. She felt his body react to her being so near and smirked a little. She kissed him gently and pressed her hips against him before snuggling her head under his chin, face in the hollow of his throat.

"I'll kell hem ef he do," she yawned. "He's no' 'llowed ta het ya, neither."

Sleep eventually overcame Fenny as well, but not before giving her enough time to sleepily let her imagination go. The wine ensured a long, peaceful night's rest and John's body ensured it was a warm one. Despite the house being half burnt down, it had been a good first night in her new home.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John cracked a sleepy eye and glared at the sun. Really? Already? He looked down at the bonny lass in his arms and felt like it had to have been the best day in the world. He slowly tried to extract himself from her lovely embrace without waking her.

The sound of the neighbors' chickens and geese rang out across the fields. Soon, John knew, those same neighbors would be around to help with cutting wood and planning the rebuilding of the barn and the main house. Like all stoic farmers they knew that the safety of the livestock was paramount to keeping the family well-cared for. Once the barn was up they could take their time raising the house, and after that they could build a cottage for Hamish.

Little John smiled to himself and wondered if Hamish would ever settle down or if he would be the town rogue, breaking hearts where ever he laid his hat. He stretched and groaned happily next to Fenny. It had been a good night.

[The Lifted Lorax]

In her sleep Fenny's arms tightened around Little John to keep him from escaping. It wasn't long after that she actually awoke, though she didn't open her eyes. She scooted closer to him and wiggled upwards so that they were face-to-face. She cracked her eyes open the tiniest bit then kissed his neck. Then his chin. Then his lips, nose, forehead, cheeks, and soon it had evolved into a flurry of kisses and smiles. She giggled as she stopped and hugged him tightly, giving him one last peck on the lips.

"Mornen," she finally said with a smile. She turned her head to look out at the fields. "Good day fer a barn raisen, hey?" She turned back to Little John and was content just to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "'bou' wha' I ded las' nigh'. I were drunk. Et's no' tha' I den't want ta," she added hastily. "No...far from et. I ded...a lot. Et's jus' tha'...I ha' a le'l more self-control as when I'm sober."

Fenny reached up and put a hand on her future husband's stubbly cheek. She loved waking up in his arms and wondered how she lived before without it. She also wondered how long she'd be able to wait before her future husband was her husband, and if she could wait. What did having a child too soon matter to her if they were to marry anyway? She reproached herself for thinking like that...but she couldn't help it.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John groaned to himself as her kisses continued from his neck to his lips. It was intoxicating and he had to fight hard to not move over her and bury her in kisses of his own. He ached in ways he hadn't ached since he was a teenager, and he didn't think he could stand up and walk right away if he had to.

"Gut morning, future Missus Schnell." He kissed her lips back, and then her nose. Then on an impulse he buried his stubbly face into her neck and kissed her delicate skin there, taking a small nip of her flesh with his lips. He didn't know exactly why he did that, just that it seemed to come natural.

"You dun have ta apologize. I was wantin' you too, but I want to do vas right more than I wanted you right now." He propped himself up on his elbow. "If Jacob would wait seven years and then promise seven more for Rachel, then surely I can wait a few months to honor you." He played with her hair as he looked at her eyes.

"Well, no time like the present," he said, sighing. "Let's get down there before everyone wonders as Widow Fallow did." He kissed her lips again briefly before once again trying to untangle himself from her fair limbs and climb down the stairs.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny grinned as Little John called her the future Mrs. Schnell. She liked the sound of that. She couldn't help but laugh out loud when he buried his face in her neck.

"Ach! Tha' teckles!" she hooted. "Oh!" Her eyebrows rose in surprise as he bit her and she grinned. "Aye, I unnerstand," she said softly. She leaned closer to him and looked him in the eye. "Ya best take care though," she warned quietly before kissing him, "I bite back." She punctuated this warning with a demonstration, nipping at his lip and grinning impishly.

Fenny was sad to see him stand, but she too groaned and stood. Before everyone wondered as Widow Fallow did. She looked at his retreating back at the head of the stairs for a moment.

"An' so wha' ef tha' ded happen?" she asked quietly, "ef we're getten married anehway." She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, kissing his back gently. "I wanna ha' yer babies, Johan Schnell." She sighed. "Bu' we gotta wait. Damn me fer bein' so empatient."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John put his hands over hers and listened to her lamenting their timing. "We dun have to wait, Fenny. We can go down to the town and get married right away if you wan', and then again in Scotland in yer mother's dress. But..." he squeezed her hand and turned around to look at her. "I dun want to have anything marring our life t'gether. I dun wan' ta have any children wondr'n if they were bastards, and if you were to be with child and I died b'fore we married there'd be nothin' in it for you. I dun want that for you, Fenny. You deserve more."

He took her little face in his hands and kissed her. "Come on, let's go find the places the hens 'ave left their eggs and get breakfast goin'. I dun know about you but I could'a et another of Widow Fallow's pies all on me own!"

He climbed down the old ladder and waited for Fenny at the bottom. He rubbed his fingers across his scruffy chin. "Do ya want me to shave off me beard, Fen? It's a little scratchy an' the kissin' might get rough," he said, grinning.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Dun say tha'," Fenny said forcefully, frowning at Little John. "Dunna say ye'd die afore our child were born. Ya wun." She pursed her lips and sighed. "Married righ' away...et sounds almos' perfect," she said whistfully before kissing him back.

"Coulda...ef I'd had room. Tha' wemin kin feed a damn armeh!" She chuckled and followed him down the ladder. She considered him for a moment when he asked if she wanted him to shave off his beard. "Et's up ta ya, I s'pose. I'da ha' a time o' et en Scotland anehway. All the men as grow beards there." She reached up and rubbed her hand against his scratchy cheek. "But et migh' get a bet tough, aye. Specially after we're married." She winked and pulled him down to be able to kiss him. "An' we're gonna ha' ta werk ou' thess height theng! I need a ruddy footstool ta kess ya!"

"How many d'ya wan', anehway?" she asked after a pause. "Bairns, I mean. Ya never said."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John laughed when she complained about his height. "I suppose we ken either grow you a bit taller or cut my legs off at the ankle. I'd rather not be withou' feet, though. They'd call me stumpy."

He showed her some of the hen's favorite hidey holes for their eggs. He'd been gone a few days so there were a good many in some nests. "I think I might shave it off then, since I'm used to bein' bare-cheeked. An..I think I said I wanted a half dozen or so children. Maybe a bit more if you dun get too thick around the middle." He raised an eyebrow and grinned at her at his little tease. "At least six boys and four girls. Yeah, a gut half dozen or so will do."

He went around the cart and peeked in at Hamish. "Hey! Wake up you! There's work ta be dun!" He shook the cart and grinned at his future brother.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"No need ta cutcha off! We'll jus' do wha' me Da always threatened when Hamish het hes growth spurt an' steck ya en a closet weth a breck on yer head fer a couplea years." Fenny followed him out to the yard and took note of the hens' favorite hiding places.

"Tha's ten, ya bampot. An' I'll gev ye theck 'round the meddle!" She hit him on the shoulder before gathering a few more eggs in her tartan, using it as an apron. "Jus' fer tha' I'll gev ya twelve strong, healthy girrels." She stuck out her tongue. "Balloch wemin're skenny anehway, n'matter how many barins. Tweggy wrists an' berd ankles, the lo' o' us. Too skenny fer our own good sometimes. What'd we call our ferst son, anehway? Lettlest John? Wee John? Medium John?" She smiled and crinkled her nose briefly.

"Ach! Lay off ya great bowsie!" Hamish barked, kicking lazily over the side of the cart at Little John. He sat up slowly and pulled down his kilt, clutching his head. Straws from the hay in the cart stuck helter-skelter in his hair. He squinted at the pair in the morning light.

"Tha's whacha get fer drenken too much, an' dunchoo look a' me fer no sempethy, neither," Fenny scolded. "Get up. We've go' a barn ta raise, a hoos ta fex, an' breakfast ta eat."

"Brek...? I dunna wan' no breakfas'! I wanna slep!"

"Well that weren't a choice anehmore when ye decided ta come weth us. Get up."

[EvelynWillows]

John laughed back at Fenny when she asked what they'd name their first born. "Well if'n our first uns a girl I dun think John would be a good name for her, eh? Maybe Joanne, but not John." He grinned. "We can always name our boy after yer Pa. Johan's such a borin' name anyways."

As Hamish protested being woken up Little John peered out over the fields. "Look here! The neighbors are all a'comin'." He shaded his eyes from the morning sun. "Well I'll be...Farmer Steinburg brought all four of his lovely daughters. I'm sure that'd not interest you, Hamish. They're only bonny German girls anywho." He grinned and winked at Fenny. From where she was standing she could see a lot of people crossing the fields with their wagons. One man had two sturdy sons with him and four daughters, but they were just wee little ones, not the bonny lasses that Little John was hinting at.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Ach! Nonsense! John's a perfect name fer a gerril!" Fenny grinned and bit her lip. "My Da?" She crinkled her nose. "Duncan? Et sounds like a name fer a dog! E'en me Da hated hes name!"

Fenny shaded her eyes against the sun as well and smiled as she saw four lovely blonde girls bouncing across the field, the eldest no older than ten at most. She looked sideways at John and winked. Between the two of them, their teasing was sure to drive Hamish off one of these days.

"Oh aye, look at 'em!" she agreed. "Bonny wee lassies, aren't they?" She unbraided her hair from the night before and shook it out, her hair curly and mane-like once more. "Good stock, the Stane-bergs. An' blonde, the lo' o' 'em."

Hamish ran his hands through his hair to get the bits of straw and grass out. He frowned as he rubbed his hand across his four-day beard, then shrugged. Sliding out of the wagon, he looked around.

"Four of 'em, ya say?" He looked expectantly out to the field where all the neighbors were coming through. "Blonde?"

"Oh aye. An' I'm sure they'll be threlled ta play hide'n'seek weth ya." Her brother looked at her, confused as to whether she was being literal or using some sort of innuendo that she surely hadn't picked up from him or Robin.

[EvelynWillows]

"Yeah, blonde," confirmed Little John. "But I should warn ye, if you think Robin was a good shot with the bow ye should'a seen Hansel Steinberg shootin' at the last lad was chasing after'n his daughters. Put a new hole in him, did he. Had ta become a pirate after that piercin'." He grinned and gave Fenny a conspiratorial pat on her rump.

"Come on then. Et's bad manners to be late at yer own barn party." He waved at the neighbors who were already setting up a work station near the old barn and beginning to sort through the wood for usable scraps and what would have to be junked. It was promising to be a long, productive day.

The men all gathered at the work are and the women began to set up tables and such for feeding the men. Before long they had a fire going and water boiling, and the women had all began to introduce themselves to Fenny and make wagers as to whether she and Little John would have boys or girls first. Hettie Geldig, the mother of the four blonde girls, laughed and patted Fenny on the shoulder. "We als thought perhaps, you know, Johan was a leetle on the fleemsey side, what with him and his habit and all. Sooooo glad that he's not, eh? Good stock like him needs to pass on to the next generation, make zom strong liebchens to carry on the blut."

Willow Fallow waved her hand to shush the other lady. "They're not expectin' yet! I already asked them last night. Chaste they be, like the good Friar should."

A collective "Ohhhh...." sounded from the women before they broke off in chatter and began pelting Fenny with questions like what her colors for her bedroom would be and whether or not they would have their wedding on the farm or at the church.

Hamish was having a better time of it. The men were all rather quiet and hard working, with them sorting and tossing wood in concert, as if they raised barns every day of their lives. The toughest part for Hamish was all the loud, sharp clattering from the pieces of wood being thrown and the sounds of hammers and saws working to free the good wood from the bad.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny jumped at the pat on the bum and looked at Little John, pretending to be scandalized. Her face then cracked into a grin and she pinched him back before bumping him with her hip. Hamish looked sour as the girls came into focus.

"Hide'n'seek, hey?" he scowled at her. She smiled and shrugged and took his arm.

"C'mon, useless."

Fenny was quick to join the other women. She felt like she'd be more useful working with the men, but she remembered how things worked. The women were supposed to stick together for things like these, although she herself had never experienced "things like these" before. Their houses and barns had all been stones and thatch. The women were pleasant enough, however, and Fenny found herself smiling and laughing with them though there were very few of whom she could remember the names.

"Eh...flemsy?" she asked, confused. Then Mari Fallow, kind woman that she was, corrected the assumption and Fenny blushed. Oh, that kind of flimsy. "Wha-? I'm no'! No! An' he's no'-! Ach!" She found herself just as flustered as the night before, then moreso when she began being bombarded with questions. "Bedroom colors? Et comes en colors?" She frowned. There were specific colors for a bedroom? What were they? She'd always liked colors like blue and green and purple, but it took so much time to dye wool.

"Eh...we dunno yet...We uh hanna talked 'bout et much. I wanna go back home ta Scotland ferst, fetch me Ma's dress." She found herself thoroughly confused by all of these things she was apparently supposed to have known already. She was still stuck on the colors bit. Colors? What next, a nursery?

Hamish winced at all of the loud noise and his headache increased. He was glad that the men weren't all that talkative and pitied his sister for it. A few times he glanced over and saw her looking lost as she tried her best to fit in with the curious women. He'd have gladly traded places and knew she would too; she could do the loud barn raising business and he could sit and talk to the pretty women. And indeed there were more than a few blonde beauties among them. He could definitely get used to living in this place...so long as there weren't anymore barn raisings.

[EvelynWillows]

By that evening the entirety of the old barn had been cleared away and the foundation set. There was talk of wood needing to be cut, and planks to be hewn, and everyone sat around a huge meal put together by the women. It was still quiet a mystery how they had managed to get everything cooked and ready in such primitive surroundings, but it seemed like the more the women chatted the more they got done.

Fenny knew who was married to whom, which cousins came over first to Nottingham, who had the best milk, whose fields gave the best potatoes, and where the best flour for bread could be found. They also found out that hands down, Little John was known for having the best brews in the region.

"Aye," confided Hettie. "Dat's why the men are so eager to get the barn raised; they dun want him to miss a brewing!" The women all laughed scandalously but Fenny could tell that there was truth to it.

Little John came over to sit next to Fenny once the dishing out of food began. "Have they scared you away yet?" he teased. He leaned near her and smiled into her glowing eyes.

"Hoi Little John! Gives us a kiss!" One of the men called out. Several women agreed and tittered, watching the red flush creep up the prior Friar's neck. "Kiss the girl, lad!"

He grinned and glanced at Hamish. "I dun know if I ken. Her brother's likely to deck me one if'n I try."

Several of the others teased and prodded as beer was being poured and plates passed around. Several women smiled at Hamish. "Well big brother? Can yer sister kiss her betrothed or can't she?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's head was spinning from all the information. It was times like these she wished she could write so she could take notes as to who had what. She was sure John knew all of this, though. Still, she would relay what information she'd retained in hopes that she could be useful.

"I canna blame 'em," Fenny agreed, laughing. "They're the bes' brews I ever had, an' tha's sayen sommat commen from a country as too drunk ta keer ta get the Englesh offa their land." She chuckled and leaned on Little John as he sat near her. "No' yet. Ef nothen else I know fer sure now I oughta at least marry ya fer yer brews."

She turned red along with Little John, however, as others cried for a kiss. She peeked shyly at him threw a few loose strands of hair. Though she'd like nothing better than for him to kiss her, in such a public place felt so odd to her. It wasn't something she'd seen but at weddings in her village. She looked expectantly at Hamish as the decision was turned over to him.

Hamish himself was torn. He certainly didn't want to watch his baby sister being pawed by a big clumsy German. But if he said no, it'd ruin the joyful mood. Fenny was looking at him and as much as he hated to see someone else kissing her, he did want to make her happy. Then came the nudging and prodding from others nearby, and all he really wanted was the attention off of him so he could go back to flirting with young Gerta Stolle.

"Er...ah..." He looked around, then back to his sister's expectant face. "Ach!" He made a shooing motion at them both and turned his attention elsewhere.

"Mos'ly I fegger tha' means aye," Fenny said quietly, looking at her fiance and smiling warmly.

[EvelynWillows]

He grinned at the permission from Hamish, no matter that it wasn't a proper 'yes'. "I think you're right, my luv." He put his hand on her cheek and leaned over, kissing her rather chastely on the lips. A cheer rose up from the neighbors and several couples kissed as well in celebration.

Gerta threw her arms around Hamish and gave him a hard kiss on his lips as well, though it bruised his lips against his teeth a bit. Then to his surprise she turned and kissed the unsuspecting young Deutcschman to her other side. A fellow brought out his fiddle and began to play, and soon there was dancing as well. It seemed that the Germans all worked hard, and once the work was done they all played hard as well.

Little John winked at Fenny. "It's no' gypsy music but would you take a turn with me Fenny?" He stood up and extended a hand to her. Usually he would watch as the others danced, but now, with his trappings of the priestly life gone and a lovely lass to call his own, he didn't think that there was anything he couldn't do. He relaxed in the presence of his friends and the two he was making into his family. He had no way of knowing that the movements of the little community were being watched by several people in the forest. Four were driven by greed and the want of money, but one, the most dangerous one, was driven by the need to make a red-headed lass pay for scorning his advances at the faire....

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny grinned into John's chaste kiss, then pulled him forward by the front of his shirt for a proper one. It wasn't anywhere near the sort of kisses she'd given him the previous night, but most definitely more than a chaste peck. She giggled nervously as she pulled away, aware of the neighbors cheering and carrying on their own kissing.

"Oof!" Hamish was caught off-guard by the hard clashing kiss, but once he'd gotten his bearings he put his hands on her waist to pull her closer. Then suddenly it was over. "Oi!" He scowled as she turned and kissed a young German lad on her other side.

"E'ery time, my love," she smiled, taking his hand.

Fenny danced and she danced with abandon. She didn't know the steps, but she didn't care. It was a time for feeling and for fun and reckless abandon. She grinned as Little John twirled her and led her in a merry romp. The man from the fair was all but forgotten, along with the knowledge that he'd been responsible for burning their house and barn. Even if she'd been concerned with him at that moment, she wouldn't have known for a moment she was being watched.

[EvelynWillows]

Hamish had no shortage of cute young women to dance with. They found his accent and red hair grand, and his kilt made more than a few of the mädchens giggle behind their hands. John monopolized Fenny as much as he could, but soon the stubborn Germans elbowed their way into dances with Fenny, all the while teasing John that he hadn't put a ring on her finger yet and thus she still had time to come to her senses and pick someone else to be bound to. He took in it good stride, having grown up with the dry biting humor of his kinsfolk.

Soon the sun touched the horizon and the neighbors left for the warmth of their own homes. They had made plans to spend the rest of the week cutting wood, and several women had invited Fenny to join them in a quilting the next day, making jam the second, and canning beans the third. It seemed like her hopes to become more domesticated were coming to fruition.

Little John put his arm around Fenny's shoulder as he watched the last of their neighbors leave. "Well luv, seein' as how Hamish is a bit more put together tonight, perh'ps I'd better stay where he can keep an eye on me?" He looked down at her and smiled. "I've seen him swing an axe now and I surely dun want'a get on the wrong side of that!"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish was happy for the moment, flirting with the young women and drinking. He protested many times that he didn't dance, but eventually the stubborn girls pulled him into it. With many noises of protest he finally acquiesced to a few dances. Fenny laughed at her brother, only to be startled as she herself was pulled into a dance by someone she didn't know. She glanced over at Little John, making sure it was alright by him before taking it in stride and enjoying herself.

She was sad to watch the neighbors go, but they had young ones to put to bed and their own marriages to tend to. She leaned against her betrothed as he put an arm around her shoulder. She sighed as he mentioned that he'd better stay away tonight.

"Aye me love," she agreed regretfully. "I go an' ha' a snoring peg as me bedfellow t'night." She poked her tongue out at Hamish, who had an indignant look. "I'm no' tired yet, though," she added after a moment, putting a hand gently on his arm. "Thenk I'll take a walk 'cross the fields, maybe ou' ta the woods. Get ta know the place a lettle. Ya dun ha' ta wait up." She took a step away from Little John and Hamish took a step forward.

"I wun lecha go et alone," he said quietly, looking concerned.

"Leave off, hey?" Fenny retorted with a smile. "Look 'round, Hamish. Nothen fer miles 'round an' ya kin see anethen as comen acha. An' we're en a safe place fer once en our lives. Enjoy et." Her brother shifted uncomfortably.

"Fine," he said at last. "Bu' dun go too deep enta those woods by yerself. Ya canna see wha's lurken en there." Fenny rolled her eyes.

"I wun. Promess." She kissed her fiance and her brother goodnight and set off across the field, wrapping her tartan around her shoulders to keep out the cold.

The young Scot was surprised at how quickly she made it across the field, even at a normal pace. The night was clear and beautiful, if not a bit chilly. At the edge of the wood she turned and looked back at their home. She smiled and shook her head at the sight of a fire outside, knowing it was probably Hamish keeping a vigil until she returned. They could get on each others' nerves, but she didn't know what she'd have done without him. Turning back again, she took a few steps into the dark woods.

[EvelynWillows]

He didn't want her to go out alone, but she was still her own woman, and Little John feared that if he tried to hold onto her too tight she's run in the opposite direction. "All right then," he gave Fenny a brief kiss, still aware of Hamish's eyes on them, "you got yer Lilith with you?" He tried not to look too much like the worrying rooster when she rolled her eyes and took off across the field.

"Maybe it's one of those wemen things," he said to Hamish. "You know, where they have ta go off and 'think about the day' and that sort'a thing." He sighed. "Maybe a pot o'tea will do us good." He stretched and yawned before going to stir the fire and slide his favorite sweater on to stave off the chill.

In the woods dark eyes watched Fenny leaving the men and walking right towards them. It was like she was being summoned. Barnabas looked over at his comrades and grinned. "See? Told you it wouldn't be long." He fingered the long dagger in his hand and grinned in the dim moonlight.

A large, thick-shouldered man grinned back and chuckled. "Hope there's enough of 'er to go around. She's a little un." The four sets of eyes tracked her into the woods and slowly began to spread out in her direction.

Back at the fire, Little John was having a difficult time staying awake. The combination of sitting, being near the fire, and the hard work of the day was starting to take effect. As the moon shifted in the sky he began to nod off, until he was sitting up, asleep by the fire.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Eh, sometimes she jus' likes ta ge' awee," Hamish shrugged, settling in a rickety kitchen chair and watching his sister flounce out over the fields. He'd made sure she'd patted the sword at her hip before she'd gone off. "Specially after thengs like thess. Et were jus' her an' me fer so long...she likes beg groups, bu' they make 'er nerviss es all. Dun worry, boyo; she needs ta breathe an' we kin see 'er s'long's she dun go en the trees." Big brother was a lot more nervous about her going off than he sounded. He wished she'd taken someone with her; he had misgivings about that forest. Still, no use in the both of them panicking.

Fenny walked slowly in the forest, silent as a shadow on her bare feet. She kept her breathing soft but still she could feel eyes on her. She tried to convince herself it was just the creatures of the night waking and wondering at the curiosity stomping through their home. Rather than calling out 'who's there' like some stupid bint, the only noise she made was the slow hiss of steel being drawn from a scabbard. Lilith glinted in the moonlight. She held it low, hoping she'd only have to use it for cutting branches.

After a few moments passed and no attack came, she relaxed. She didn't walk deeper into the forest, but rather parallel to the treeline, about fifteen feet in. She let her sword hang down at her side and smiled vaguely up at the trees, enjoying the quiet and the dark. If she looked to her right she could still see through the trees the fire burning, knowing that her ever-faithful shadow was waiting for her to come home before he went to bed. Deciding she probably ought to give him a reprieve, she sheathed the claymore and started for the treeline. She spun when she heard a twig snap behind her.

Back by the fire Hamish had finally begun to doze, Little John long asleep in their vigil. Then all at once he'd started to his feet and was dashing off across the fields. Crystal thrown against a marble alter in an empty church could not have shattered the quiet more perfectly than that ragged scream in the night.

[EvelynWillows]

They had her surrounded, and the thick-shouldered man ran at her and tackled her from the side, pinning her sword arm against her tiny waist. Barnabas motioned for his hirelings to grab her as well, and though she kicked and fought for all she was worth the four men had her pinned beneath their sweaty, acrid weight. One grabbed her wrist and wretched it behind her back as he wrapped a coarse rope around her arm.

"Not so high-and-mighty now, ares we?" Growled Barnabas, the Brandleberry Wine man. He looked more dangerous now that he was sober. His comrade held a knife to Fenny's neck as another man pried her legs apart there on the forest floor. "Shut her up!" He hit Fenny across her face and began to unbuckled his belt.

John fell over when he heard the scream. At first he thought it was a dream, but Hamish's reaction spit cold fire into his veins. "Fenny!" He grabbed an axe laying nearby and ran after the Scotsman, his long legs quickly catching up to him. A flutter of pheasant flew from the treeline and startled the men, but otherwise the forest had grown much too quiet. His heart nearly stopped as all sorts of horrid thoughts ran their course through his mind, and he feared he would never kiss his Fenny again.

[EvelynWillows]

They had her surrounded. The thick-shouldered man ran at Fenny and tackled her from the side, pinning her sword arm against her tiny waist. Barnabas motioned for his hirelings to grab her, and though she kicked and fought for all she was worth the four men had her pinned beneath their sweaty, acrid weight. One grabbed her wrist and wretched it behind her back as he wrapped a coarse rope around her arm.

"Not so high-and-mighty now, ares we?" Growled Barnabas, the Brandleberry Wine man. He looked more dangerous now that he was sober. His comrade held a knife to Fenny's neck as another man pried her legs apart there on the forest floor. "Shut up!" He hit Fenny across her face and began to unbuckled his belt, the sight of her bare legs on the ground driving him to murderous arousal.

John fell over when he heard the scream. At first he thought it was a dream but Hamish's reaction spit cold fire into his veins. "Fenny!" He grabbed an axe laying nearby and ran after the Scotsman, his long legs quickly catching up to him. A flutter of pheasant flew from the treeline and startled the men. Otherwise the forest had grown much too quiet. His heart nearly stopped as all sorts of horrid thoughts ran their course through his mind, and he feared he would never kiss his Fenny again.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny grunted as a heavy man tackled her and pinned her arms to her sides. She tried to struggle against him but it was no use; no matter how strong she was he had nearly 200 pounds on her. That was when she'd tilted her head back and let out the most unholy shriek she could summon, hoping she would wake the whole neighborhood up. Her pride wasn't worth it.

"You!" she growled as the man from the fair stepped from the trees. He was clearly sober now and out for revenge. She winced as she hit the ground and her arm was pulled roughly behind her back. Keep making noise! "HAMISH! JOHN!"

Tears of panic welled in her eyes as she kicked against the man prying her legs apart, but it only served to hike her dress up toward her thighs. Her white legs were pale against the dirt, even in the dark. She clenched her mouth tightly shut when a knife was held to throat, digging into the dirt with her heels to try to get away despite them being held firmly. Her face stung as he slapped her, and panic welled inside her chest as she saw his hands go to his belt. No! She let out another terrible wail and in the still night it sounded as if all the demons of the underworld had been loosed from the pits of Hell by Lucifer himself.

"Fenella!" Hamish had been running with his sword drawn already.

He was much shorter than the long-legged friar, but he kept up easily as he bounded across the field for the trees. Her screams had stopped and he was beginning to panic. Once in the treeline Hamish stood silently, breathing heavily through his nose to try to minimize the noise he made as he listened. Hearing a shuffling of leaves that sounded less than natural, he looked at Little John as he motioned forward and to his right. He moved as quickly as he could, but running would be much more dangerous in the underbrush. He heard a panicked squeak from that direction, however, and quickened his pace.

[EvelynWillows]

The man with the knife moved his other hand to Fenny's mouth to stifle her scream once his companion had tied her hands behind her back. He had wretched her arms so far back that her elbows nearly touched. It shoved her chest forward and made Fenella's shoulders ache.

They pinned Fenny's legs down on the ground so that Barbaras could kneel over her. His short, strong hands shoved her dress up over her bare hips. He had managed to free himself from his clothing and was feverishly grabbing her in the darkness of the forest, groping for purchase so that he could guide himself into her. His rough clothing scraped at her bare skin and his vile hands touched her where no man had touched her before.

Little John followed Hamish's lead. His breathing had caught in his chest as he recognized the terror in her last scream; she wasn't injured or dealing with an animal, she was facing the most horrifying creature one could come against, man. He tightened his grip on the axe and moved as quietly as he could towards the sound of struggle in the night. The shadow of Hamish to his left was reassuring. He fought the urge to race to Fenny's rescue. A broken ankle would do no one any good tonight.

He caught sight of movement in the shadows; a glint of metal and the cool white of a shirt. He knew from Hamish's pace that he had seen it too. Fenny had been grabbed by a handful of men and she was struggling in the dirt about twenty yards ahead of them.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny winced as her hands were tied tightly behind her back, arms and elbows at unnatural angles from each other. Her mouth had been covered but she struggled to scream from behind the hand. She tried to bite it but another came from nowhere and slapped her sharply. She couldn't see through the tears streaming from her eyes and if her mouth had been uncovered she'd have been begging for mercy.

A cold breeze hit her and she struggled more. This was really happening. Panicking more she struggled harder, twisting her hips in all sorts of directions and pulling against her captors though her shoulders felt as though they were on fire. She felt filthy hands on her skin and went cold inside.

All of his worst nightmares were coming true. His sister was here alone in the dark in the clutches of strangers intent on doing any number of horrors to her body. Why had he let her go alone? Hamish quickened his pace as he heard a more frantic struggle. Then, in the dark, he could make out pale flashes of flesh. His panic disappeared. It was beyond panic, and it was beyond rage. It was a terrifying, thrilling sensation he'd never felt before but he knew that he could and would kill for his sister this night.

Howling with rage he took the last three yards at a sprint, rushing the men holding Fenny down. At the first pass he lopped off the arm of one of her captors and had cut another across his back. In his blood rage Hamish would stop at nothing.

[EvelynWillows]

John saw with horror the men holding Fenny down and the bare legs sticking out beneath the hairy fattish rear of the man screaming on top of her. Blood was everywhere. Hamish's war cry split the night air, and a forearm rolled away from its body and stopped at John's feet. He dodged the Scot's swing of his heavy claymore and came around with his axe, thudding it into the skull of the man smothering Fenny with his hands. Blood spilled over her face and neck, slicking over her exposed breasts in a sick study of contrasts. The moon lit her skin with a blue sheen, and the blood looked like black oil against her flesh.

"Don't hit her!" He shouted at Hamish. It wasn't as if the Scot would try to hurt his own sister, but his quick thrusts and swings seemed nearly chaotic to the ex-friar and he had a moment of panic as the image of Fenny being accidentally cut down by her own brother flashed through him. One of the men broke and ran towards the fields. His fun night had just turned nightmarish.

Little John hauled back with his axe and threw it at the man's back, cutting through his spine and sending him sprawling to the ground.

I just struck his back, his mind tried to wrap around the thought, I killed him dishonorably... but he looked down and the sobbing, screaming body of Fenny still trapped under the Brambleberry Wine man's body and he grew cold.

There was no honor in any of this. He was glad the man had died.

Little John bent down to pull the barely living body off his future wife with a cold detachment. "Fenella? Did they hurt you lass? We're here now, it'll be alright dearest." He pulled her into his arms and held her for a long, long time, thankful that she still breathed and fearful that the blood on her body might have also been some of her own.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny and Hamish often joked about being wild, about Hamish being a mountain man raised by savages. But tonight he truly was a savage as he swung his sword over his head, bringing it down to hew one of the men from one shoulder halfway to the opposite hip. The man on top of his sister got his blade through the chest, though whether he was already dead or not Hamish didn't care. He didn't hear Little John warn him not to hit Fenny. He did, however, see the man trying to escape.

"Get him!" he bellowed, moments before the axe met the man's back.

Soaked in blood, screaming and sobbing in terror and panic, Fenny couldn't differentiate between friend and foe. Blood from the man who had covered her mouth stung her eyes, and trying to wipe it out only smeared it around. She struggled weakly against the arms that picked her up off the ground and wrapped around her, beating her fists against his chest. Through her panic, she paused long enough to recognize Little John's warm embrace and stopped struggling, opting instead to sob hysterically and cling to him tightly. She couldn't answer him yet, but visibly at least she was fine.

The red finally subsided from Hamish's vision and he stood breathing heavily, staring at Little John holding his sister. How had he gotten blood spatter on his clothes and face? Looking around, he slowly came to realize what had happened. Dropping his sword, he staggered over and dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around what little of his sister he could find in Little John's embrace and pressing his cheek against her wild hair.

"Es arrigh," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "They're gone lamb. We took keer o' et. Es arrigh'." He spent a few moments petting her hair and thanking whatever higher powers there were for her safety, then stood.

"Take 'er back. Git 'er cleaned up, dun keer whacha see jus' fer God's sake get tha' blood offa her. Git 'er en some clean clothes. Put 'er ta bed an' bring ou' a coupla shovels. There's a good lad." He kissed Fenny's forehead, but all she could do was tremble and cry and cling to Little John's shirt as if it were the only thing holding her to the mortal coil.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John could taste the iron of blood in his mouth. He held Fenny jealously, afraid that if he let her go she'd fall to pieces. Maybe she would have. The ropes seemed to have fallen off her arms once the dead man released them. She was still bound around one wrist, but otherwise she had been freed. Little John stared dumbly at the carnage around them. Hamish had been a fury of revenge; he'd killed three of the men in a matter of seconds. Gore and bile stained the forest with a dark smudge of guilt that seemed to soak into the hungry soil.

He listened to Hamish's words. Yes, that made sense. Get Fenny home and clean. Fetch shovels. Bury the bodies. He knew that few courts would have condemned them for what they did, but the Sheriff of Nottingham was not a fair court. Hamish and Little John would have hanged, and Fenny possibly too.

"Alright," he said as he stood up and nestled Fenny into his arms. "I'll be back soon." He looked over the carnage and swallowed down the horrid lump of condemnation in his throat. Perhaps this was his punishment for putting aside his robes and taking a wife. He shook his head to himself. There was nothing unGodly about taking a wife. He saw Fenny as a Godsend; an answer to an unspoken prayer. "It will be alright, Fenny. Doncha cry now, Hamish and I are here."

He carried her back to their home and washed her in the water trough. He stripped off her clothes and wiped her down, washing the black blood from her fair skin. Her body had bruises on it where the men had grabbed her. Little John washed off the blood from her neck and hair, wiped the smudge of their lust from her breasts, her waist, and her hips, and finally washed her legs off. He wrapped her in a blanket and carried her up to the loft. She seemed so alone, so fragile laying there with her eyes still in shock.

"Fenny, I have to go help Hamish with the bodies. You're dagger's right here..." he moved her hand to where the handle of Lilith was. "I'll be lack, me love. Soon." He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. John didn't want to leave her all alone, but he knew that the bodies had to be dealt with.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's sobs gradually subsided as Little John carried her through the fields. She felt like a child, so vulnerable and small in his big arms. Eventually she was still, clinging to his shirt for dear life and sniffling. She stared into his shirt as she felt herself carried into the yard. She wanted to push him away as he gently peeled her clothes off, wanted to run away, but what kept her there was knowing that he was helping. She took a deep breath as she felt herself lowered into cold water. She stared at his face as he washed her skin. Her lip trembled as he brushed bruises and as he came to her hips she pulled her legs in and folded her arms over her breasts as if just realizing what was happening.

"I...I'm sorry..." she whispered, looking up at John with tearful eyes. "I denna...denna mean to...denna ken they was there..." Tears fell down her face when she blinked. "I'm so sorry John."

Fenny sniffled and shed few more tears as he wrapped her in a blanket and carried her upstairs. She rolled onto her side as he kissed her and nodded. Bodies...there were bodies...Her fingers curled around the hilt of her claymore and she pulled it close to her body. She didn't want him to go, but she knew he had to. She couldn't remember why.

Hamish waited impatiently out in the woods among the corpses. He looked around at the carnage done, mostly by him. He didn't know what was him and what was Little John...but did it matter? He'd killed men. He'd never killed a man before. He'd always known he could if he had to...but...Well, he'd had to, didn't he? The alternative was much worse. But...four?

He looked up, sword out, as he heard footsteps approaching. He breathed a sigh of relief to see Little John. He nodded to a spot between two trees.

"Dig 'em deep, so as they wun be dug up," he grumbled, jabbing his spade into the earth. "Ef et comes to et an' yer neighbors wun say nothen fer us...it were me, okay?" He felt cold as he said it and he didn't look up at John. "All o' et were me. She..." he sighed. "She needs ya more'n me now."

It made Hamish sad to finally say it out loud. But that was one of the many reasons he'd so often felt the desire to hit Little John. Fenny was finally outgrowing him and he couldn't be the only man in her life anymore. He'd known that even Robin couldn't come close to the place Hamish himself occupied in her heart...and John had managed it in a day. It hurt. But that was woman's stuff; he'd never admit it out loud to John, to Fenny, or even to himself.

[EvelynWillows]

"Shh..." he whispered into Fenny's hair as he carried her up to the loft. "It wasn't yer fault. Those men; they did this. The sin's on them, not on you Lass." He still didn't know if the brute had managed to steal from Fenella that which she had protected all these years, but it didn't matter. He loved her. "Don't say yer sorry, Fenny. You did nothing wrong."

He grabbed the shovels and jogged back to where Hamish was waiting. As Little John looked around anew at the mess he was struck by how final death was. These men-- they were gone. Their bodies were still there, but the essence of who they were, and what they were, was gone. The reality of the soul struck him hard. He, who had lived in a monastery for years, recited prayers and verses from the Book until they had lost their meaning; he finally understood that the separation of body and soul was death. For those four men lying on the forest floor there were no second chances at eternity. He wanted to vomit.

Instead he began to help Hamish dig. "It's not me neighbors I'd be worryin' about. Heck, they'd be out here helpin' us bury these vermin if'n they knew. It's the Sheriff. He's the only one'd care about such louts as these." The soil was moist and soft, layers of good duff over dark, rich earth. It made for easy digging. As his shovel bit down into the earth Little John chuckled. "Let's just dig one big'un, eh? It seems like it'd be easier than four graves, and this lot don't seem to deserve their own holes to rot in."

He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Fenny needs you too, Hamish. You're her blood. You're kin. That'll never pass." He measured the depth of the hole and then jumped in to finish digging out the last few feet from inside, to make sure it was a good six feet down. He had to dig steps into the shallow side so that he could get out once the digging was deep enough. Finally it seemed sufficient and he climbed back up to the surface of the forest.

"I suppose that I should say something over there grave," he said. He looked over to the bodies and shuddered. There was still the dropping in and the burying to do.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well, s'long's these aren't found I thenk we'll be safe. They canna find anehthen on us specially. Enless..."

He looked from the corpse of the man who'd started it all, then back towards the house. Hamish didn't know how far they'd gotten in their plan, only that the man was exposed and his sister was pinned and half-naked. He couldn't bear the thought, and so he left his sentence unfinished, especially considering it would be a special kind of cruelty to John to say it. Unless a child comes out of this. Shaking his head, he bent his back and continued digging. It was the sort of digging he'd come to know too much and too young.

"Aye, she needs me. An' I need her. We always ha', always well. Bu' ef I go' caugh'...she'd hurt. She'd be en pain. She migh' e'en go mad fer a week er two. Bu' she'd lev and she'd carry on. We've buried both parents an' two seblens already, ya ferget." Hamish grunted and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Bu' ye?" He shook his head and gestured towards the house. "Take a good look a' tha' an' tha's the rest o' her life. They'd throw 'er en Bedlam as le' me ha' her, an' God ferbed we both sweng."

He watched as Little John finished digging out from the inside, the top of his head just barely brushing the edge of the grave. That should be deep enough. He lent a hand and grasped his forearm as he helped the big man out of the hole. Say something?

"Ya mean, other than 'ya had et comen ta ye ya barmy get'?" Hamish shrugged. "Er 'lev a randy drunkard, die a randy drunkard'? Ef ya wan'."

Hamish began dragging the bodies by the shirts over to the hole and dumping them unceremoniously. A few paces off was the arm, which he also tossed in on top of the bodies. It was the murder that bothered him, not the corpses. He'd buried too many in his short life to be bothered by corpses. He than began to muss up the trails left by bodies being dragged, and also to mix in the blood with the earth so that only the animals would know what happened here. He waited respectfully for Little John to decide what to say. Then,

"Thenk we should tell the neighbors?" he asked cautiously. "'Case the sheriff do come poken 'round?"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John helped to drag the bodies into the grave as well. He'd seen death before, but never caused it. Not like this. The butchering of an animal to feed your family was one thing. This...well, it had been to save his family now, wasn't it? He nodded to Hamish's question. "Aye, there be a few men I'd trust to tell. Like I said, the only one I'd be a fearin' would be the sheriff. He wouldn't care what our reasons were."

Once they dumped the bodies and their parts all into the hole Little John cleared his throat and stood next to the grave.

"Almighty Father we stand before You and ask Your forgiveness for what we done. Vengeance is Yours, You tell us in Yer Book, but tonight Lord we jus' had ta do what needed to be done. So please fergive us and watch over us, but mostly would Ya watch over Fenny? She's thinkin' this was her fault, and You know tis not true, but she doesn't. So would You fix up her heart and help her to smile again? Thank You Lord, and in the name of Jesus I bring this simple prayer to you 'cause you made me a simple man. Amen."

He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, that ought to do it." And quietly he started shoving mounds of dirt over the bodies of the men who attacked Fenny. He was glad it was spring yet. A few more weeks of rain and a good, hot summer would set these bodies into the soil, and hopefully no one would have cause to come lookin' for four men from the fair.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well, we'll tell 'em en the mornen, then. No sense en waken the neighborhood tanight, specially seein as they all prolly heard Fenny, though' it were a rabbit er sommat."

Hamish stood with his spade planted in the dirt and his feet on either side of it, resting his hands on the handle and bowed his head. He looked up when John mentioned that Fenny thought it was her fault. How could she possibly think it was her fault? If he could have murdered the men again, he would have. Instead he too began to shovel dirt over the bodies. They'd have no marker.

"I becha fell the pews on Sunday, John," Hamish said awkwardly after a bit of a silence on their way back. "Et were a good prayer. None o' tha' fancy Laten shite, sayen as God dun speak Englesh he on'y speaks Laten." He rolled his eyes. "We'll get cleaned up an' go ta bed, hey? New mornen tamorrow." He fidgeted for a moment, glancing sideways at Little John. "I'll ah...I'll slep down here by the hearth," he volunteered after some moments.

[EvelynWillows]

"Aye, tomorrow's as good a day as any ta tell 'em." He patted the last of the dirt down over the graves. He'd have liked to spit on the grave but it wouldn't do any good.

Little John chuckled when Hamish complimented his prayer. "I dun have a church, Hamish. I was excommunicated fer not givin' up my Book written in the Deutsch. I couldn'a understand that Latin neither." He stuck the spade into the dirt next to the wagon and wondered if Fenny was asleep yet. He looked at Hamish with surprise when he volunteered to sleep by the hearth.

"Are ye sure, Hamish? She might not want me up there." He saw the decision in the Scot's eyes and thought he understood the thought; better you than them.

He cleaned off the blood and stripped off the dirty shirt and boots before climbing up the steps as quietly as he could. Once he got up there her cautiously whispered for Fenny. "Are you asleep, Fen? It's John." He didn't want her to wake suddenly and think he was one of them and draw her claymore on him. "Can I come next to you darlin'?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny started, sitting halfway up with her hand on the hilt of her sword. Breathing easier, she saw it was only Little John and laid back down again, scooting over to make room. She clung to him tightly throughout the night, trembling on and off.

Neighbors were informed of what had happened, and it was generally agreed upon that nobody knew anything about anything, should the sheriff come poking around. After about a week Fenny stopped jumping at the slightest noise and was mostly normal again. Her honor was intact and so no child came. The temporarily forgotten problem of the taxes for the fair surfaced again and it was with a heavy heart that Little John sold most of his livestock and the rest of that year's brew to cover the costs, despite his betrothed insisting they use the money she'd stolen that day. Land was leased to neighbors to plow and plant as spring grew old and the small family began preparing for their journey to Scotland.

It was the middle of June before the three departed on horses for the northern lands. The first leg of their journey went by easily enough, with Fenny and Hamish both enjoying the pilgrimage much better from horseback than on foot. Fenny had even made herself a new dress for the occasion out of some spare wool she'd found, so as not to be returning in the same clothes she left in. From Nottingham to the border of Scotland, all was generally quiet. Hamish and Fenny had raced their horses to beat each other across the border to be the first one home, and their spirits were visibly lifted. It was July, so it was muggy and fog rolled in in the evenings...and they were home. The first twenty minutes of Scotland had nary a trouble. Then came the call:

"Stand and deliver!"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John felt the days pass like layers on a thaw, and he was glad to see that his Fenny was getting better. He was thankful for the understanding of the neighbors; they welcomed Hamish and Fenella when they first arrived, and it seemed like after the attack the neighbors re-welcomed them into their little community. A few of the young ladies saw him with new eyes. Where he had once been a rakish sort of mystery, now he was seen as a local hero. A few were more than happy to offer him a 'stolen' kiss or two behind the barn as it was being raised.

Once the farm details were settled and the cottage rebuilt Little John began to look forward to their journey. He had to admit that he rather enjoyed Hamish's company, despite the occasional tease they would trade with each other.

"It's as you said," Little John was commenting to Fenny. "Tis a lovely land. Makes me almost want to pick up me farm and move it here."

His horse side-stepped nervously. "Hoi there, fellow. It's only Scottish air, not much different from what you're used to."

"Stand and deliver!"

Little John looked at Hamish nervously. "What's that about? Can't they see we're sittin'?" He moved his horse closer to Fenny's to look after her and searched for the source of the challenge.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Ach! Dun," Fenny shook her head. "Soils full o' rocks an' shite. An' yer as like ta die from starvation as ye are from clan wars er the Prence burnen ya out o' yer home." She was glad to be back in Scotland, but she didn't forget the reasons she left in the first place.

Fenny's horse nickered and she brought it to a gentle stop, exchanging a look with Hamish. Her brother rolled his eyes and his face held a 'wait for it' expression. He held up three fingers. 3...2...1...

"Haha! You cannot cross without...Oh." A foppish-looking highwayman had jumped from behind a few nearby boulders, along with two or three others. He'd struck a grand stance, but it seemed to wilt under the gaze of the siblings.

"Ye done ye'?" Fenny asked flatly, an unimpressed look clear on her face. Hamish grinned and jumped off of the horse, striding over and hugging the dandy, thumping him heartily on the back. Fenny rolled her eyes and slid off as well. "John, thess es Jemmy. He's a highwayman as wha' we met on our way ou' las' time. Run enta hem a few times sence." She strode over and punched him playfully on the arm. "An' he stell hanna stole a red cent from us."

"An' ya go' men now?" Hamish asked, looking at the others who'd stepped out of hiding. "Who d'ya thenk ya are? Robin Hood?" Robin's legend had been growing since they'd parted ways, though neither of them were sorry for missing the spotlight.

"Robin Hood!" the Englishman, Jimmy, scoffed. "Just local legends and common brigands!"

"Aye, unlike yerself." Fenny rolled her eyes again and gave a look to Little John. The highwayman was accommodating enough, and she liked him well enough, but she'd always found him more than a tad full of himself. "He'll gev us food an' shelter fer the nigh'."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John was a bit taken aback by Hamish and Fenny's knowledge of the highwayman. He dismounted and went to shake the man's hand. "Well met, then, Jimmy. So what's an Englishman doing robbing Scots on Irish soil?" He still had a grip on his horse's reins. A lot could change in the time the siblings had been away.

He was surprised that Robin's legend had traveled so far. The man had been a legend back home, but that was to be expected. Even during the Spring Faire the man had commanded attention, and now with Lady Marian on his arm he made a handsome legend indeed.

"Well, thank ye in advance for the shelterin'." He wasn't too fond of thinking of having Fenny around strangers. Her assault from last year sometimes seemed like yesterday to him, and now crowds of men he didn't know made him nervous. He figured that Hamish knew the men, though, so perhaps it would be alright. "Do you have a camp nearby or do ya simply camp on whichever road you happen to be robbing?" He grinned at Jimmy. Hopefully he'd know it for the joke it was.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Ach! Bite yer tongue, John Schnell! Thess es hallowed Scottish ground ya be standen on." Fenny made a face at the thought of her country being mistaken for Ireland.

"I roam where I will," the highwayman shrugged. "I've met these two in Scotland, England, and Ireland. We still need to plan a journey to Wales," he added to Hamish. "And who said I'd be givin ya shelter?" he demanded.

"I ded," Fenny shrugged. She eyed the men behind Jimmy warily. "Ye kin go along weth us tel nightfall ef ya wan'. Who're yer friends?"

"Oh! I've forgotten my manners!" Jimmy introduced each of his men in turn and agreed to accompany the three of them. It was an hour or two before the sun set and Hamish and Fenny chatted freely as they rode, filling their friend in on all that had happened since they last met.

"Fiance?" Jimmy laughed. "Oh so I wasn't good enough fer ya but you'll marry him?".He gestured to Little John and chuckled good-naturedly. "I am prettier than this man!" Fenny kicked at him from her horse.

"Ach! An' I s'pose yer hand en me purse shoulda had nothen ta do weth et?"

"Still you won't let that go!"

[EvelynWillows]

"Ah, sorry Fenny Luv. Scottish ground, then." He grinned at her and raised an eyebrow in apology. "I suppose it's good ya got me out ta see the world." He rode along slightly behind Fenny where he could keep an eye on her and still watch the road before them. Though he was glad to see her happy again he wasn't too keen on her sharing so much information with a man of ill repute. Still, they probably thought nothing of it in Scotland. Germans helped each other bury their problems; Scots had no secrets from each other. He sat the horse easily and listened to the sound of his beloved's voice like music in the air.

Little John grinned at Jimmy when he said that he was prettier than John was. He shook his head at her kick. "Jimmy you were too busy tryin' ta steal Fenny's money and fergot abou' her heart. It's a thing to be givin', not taken." He rode up next to her and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Meetin' you was the best day of my life."

As they rode along a bit longer he noticed that what Fenny had said about the lands was true. The few farms they saw were struggling, and burned, abandoned homes were more the norm than not. He saw ragged families trying to scrape a living from the hard soil, and dogs roaming about with their ribs clearly visible on their sides. Once they passed a freshly marked grave too small to be that of an adult and he felt his heart go out to the countrymen. This was a hard place to live, indeed.

"Hey Hamish, how many more days until we're near your homeland?" Even though he loved seeing his bride-to-be glowing in her birthland he was suddenly eager to get her back to his little hamlet. It had been over a year since they met at the spring fair. Six more years to go, he teased himself.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"A map woulnna hert e'ery now an' then, neither," Fenny teased.

"I take what I want!" Jimmy proclaimed boldly. "Only Hamish woulda had my head and worse."

Fenny blushed deeply as Little John kissed her hand and spoke tenderly to her. Jimmy could be heard snickering until Hamish aimed a kick at his head. She was a Highland lass. She was used to men hard as the soil. In the warm bosom of their little German village the tenderness of her intended had often surprised her, but was accepted without question. Back in her homeland it made her flustered and she worried a little that it might invite someone to pick a fight. Of course Little John could handle himself, but still she didn't want him to have to.

"Should be there by tomorrow nigh'," Hamish answered, spitting over Jimmy's head.

He himself had been tempted to laugh at Little John. After living for over a year in a neighborhood that was...very much not-Scotland, however, he understood where it was coming from. He didn't want Fenny to be embarrassed, either, and so he'd kicked at Jimmy. Only he was allowed to make fun of his sister. He didn't see the vagabond as a threat to his sister's affections, never had...but still he didn't trust Jimmy very much. He had, after all, taught the siblings everything they knew about picking pockets, cutting purses, and outright burglary; not someone it was generally wise to trust too readily.

[EvelynWillows]

Jimmy's declaration that he took what he wanted raised the hackles on Little John's neck. He and Hamish had dealt with men who wanted to take what they wanted, and those men were in the ground now nearly a year. He bit his tongue and rode on with Fenny, thinking things over and trying to size up the motley group of men traveling with them.

"It's okay if I wind up bashing a few heads if'n they need it, isn't it Fen?" He asked when he didn't think anyone was too near. "I dun wanna break any traditions or anything." He scratched the man of his horse and thought fondly of his mule, Brandy. She was safely ensconced at the Widow Fallow's home and was probably spending her days pulling carts of kids around the farm for fun.

Little John squinted at Hamish. They had been decent friends back in Nottingham. He wondered if being among his kinsmen would drive a wedge between them. There was nothing to be done for it now; they were here for a wedding dress, and that would have to be accomplished if he was ever going to marry Fenella.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye..." Fenny answered slowly, wondering where this was coming from. "But ya shoulna ha' ta. Folk en the vellege know Hamish an' me, they woulna poke a' ye." She reached over and put a hand on John's thigh as best she could. "An' Jemmy's really jus' a coward. A con, bu' a coward. I dunna thenk he'll gev us any trouble." She squeezed his leg gently before retracting her hand, afraid of losing balance and falling. "'Sides, he taught us e'erythen we ken abou' stealen; no' like he kin pull sommat as'd surprise us."

"Jus' thenk," she sighed after a few moments, "a couple o' months." She looked at him and smiled. "Then I'll be yers, body an' soul." Living together nearly a year, they'd of course had slip-ups like their first night home, particularly in the winter months. But always with great regret, one or the other would stop things and they'd either part ways or fall asleep cuddling.

The evening passed rather uneventfully. Near sunset they came across a half-burnt stone lean-to. Checking to make sure it was abandoned, the travelers made their camp here for the night. The roof thatch was half-burnt off, but it was enough to keep out the cold and the fog. Hamish pointed out that holes in the roof came in handy, since they could burn a fire in the middle of the large antechamber and not worry about getting smoked out. After a meager dinner, one by one the bandits dropped off to sleep. Hamish and Fenny looked at each other before crawling forward to ensure they were actually sleeping before settling down themselves.

"Thenk e'eryone looks the same?" Fenny asked sleepily, leaning against John. Hamish shrugged.

"Yer wemin friends'll have got fatter by now."

"Maybe."

"Weth all 'em babies?" Hamish raised an eyebrow.

"Aye, an' one er two of 'em prolly yers."

"Bite yer tongue!" Hamish was slightly more comfortable with children than he had been that night in the Widow Fallow's kitchen, but the prospect of having his own was still terrifying to him.

"Well stop talken abou' et then," she yawned, curling on her side and sliding an arm around Little John's ribs. "I'm twenny-four an' I'll be the on'y lass as we ken as dun have any bairns." Her eyes slid closed. "I wan' babies..." she mumbled sleepily.

[EvelynWillows]

His, body and soul. He looked contentedly at her across the firelight and thanked the Lord again for bringing them together. Little John had felt the familiar flickers of jealously flare up a few times that night as the Balloch siblings laughed over shared memories with Jimmy. They had history there; they had learned the 'art' of thievery and pocket-picking from that rogue. Undoubtedly it had kept them alive and fed on the road, but stealing still seemed very wrong to him.

But who am I to judge them? He thought, I've never walked in their shoes. Then he frowned. They seemed to not prefer shoes. He had made Fenny a pair of rabbitskin boots for the winter, but they seemed to fly off her feet at the first thaw. Still, seeing her wearing what he made, and knowing he was keeping her warm, was a good thing for his soul. He wanted to make her world safe and comfortable, and give her all the joy of a home and a family that she seemed to long after.

The Scots all seemed to linger over their meal and the firelight sharing small quips and stories. Soon Little John was lulled to sleep. It seemed that years in the monastery had trained him to fall asleep with the sun set and wake when the first pale streaks of light hit the horizon. He murmured contentedly when he felt Fenny's arm wrap around him from behind. He turned over and tucked her head under his chin, pulling her close to his chest.

"We'll have fine babies," he mumbled back to her. "Soon as we find your mother's dress." He sighed and smiled.

All was right in his world.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish was awake at first light. Having fashioned himself a new bow over the winter for hunting, Jimmy and one of his friends had been awake for a few moments and Fenny was not yet awake when Hamish came in with a pair of skinny rabbits. They were quickly cleaned and skinned. Hamish offered to trade one of the pelts for a few coins but Jimmy declined.

"I can steal things to keep warm," he shrugged. "You need it more than me. With your...honest life 'n all." He pulled a face.

"Wha's tha' s'posed ta mean?" Hamish scowled as he speared the rabbit on the arrow he'd shot it with before building up the fire again.

"Just sayin', mate..." Jimmy shrugged. "You've changed, that's all. Both of you." He nodded over at the sleeping sister. "Specially her. What's got into her, anyway? This...priest?" He smirked at his accidental double entendre. Hamish caught on and flushed angrily. "And you let him? I mean, look at her."

"Yeah, wha' abou'?" Hamished asked through gritted teeth, glancing over at his sister who sighed in her sleep.

"She's...soft. I mean...is that a Highland woman right there? She's cuddling. A priest. And really, how priestly is he, anyway, if he'll drop the habit for a woman he met at a fair...not too strong on the beliefs, eh? Worth a second look."

"He weren't a priest when they me'," Hamish said softly. "He's a good man. Ef there's anyone as good fer her et's hem." Jimmy scoffed. "Wha', ya thenk ye're better?"

"Never have," he chuckled. "It's just funny how quickly you give her up after years of keeping her from the world."

"I den't gev her up. I seen thess man. I seen her protect 'er, seen hem honor 'er, seen hem provide a leven fer 'er. Seen hem love 'er. S'much as me. Maybe e'en more'n me." He shrugged. "Bu' ef yer looken ta peck a figh' o'er et, ye'll ge' one an' et'll be from me." He looked over as Fenny stirred. "An' tha's last on et, go' et?"

[EvelynWillows]

Distant sound of men talking lured Little John out of his slumber. He felt the warmth of Fenny in his arms and smiled. "Mornin' Luv." He found her forehead through the mass of hair he had loved on first sight and kissed her. Then he kissed her nose, and her chin. "I think the rest of the camp's stirring already. We'd best be up before they decide to take our horses, eh?"

He pulled a few strands of her hair and watched it spring back. It was one of his favorite past-times. That, and counting the 'angel kisses' across her lovely nose.

"I think Hamish is arguing over which Scot has the best kilt, or some nonsense like that." He pulled their cloak up over Fenny's shoulder and hugged her one more time before disengaging himself from her arms. "I'd better get up and remind him that real men wear trousers."

He grinned. It had been a point of teasing between the men over the last year. Trousers and kilts, and what may or may not lie beneath kilts. He chuckled to himself as he sat up and worked the kinks out of his shoulders. He missed the bed they had built for themselves, and the wonderful mattress that went on it. The weeks sleeping on the hard ground reminded him of all the wonderful things they had waiting for them when they finally returned home.

He looked over at Hamish and Jimmy by the fire, and the coneys by the fire. "Ah, with all the cackling going on I thought we'd have eggs for breakfast. Did you and your fine bow come by these, Hamish?" He grinned at Jimmy. The highwayman might have fancied himself a rogue like the famous Robin Hood, but it was apparent that he wasn't nearly as skilled with the bow. For one thing, he didn't carry one that Little John had noticed.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny moaned as Little John's voice brought her to consciousness. It was the best way to wake up, but it was still awake. Six years of being on the road meant a year off wouldn't make her unfamiliar with sleeping on the unforgiving ground. Still, she couldn't wait to get back to their bed, soft and warm. Well, she thought of it as their bed when really it was currently mostly John's bed. Hamish had insisted on her staying out of it and for the most part she'd acquiesced out of respect. Except for the two or three nights a week she didn't. She giggled as he kissed down her face.

"Ach...s'pose so." She finally opened her eyes in time to see one of her curls spring back. "Better hope no barins o' ours have my heer. I'd ge' jealous ta see ya pullen a' someone else's." She shook her head as John threatened to start up that old argument again.

"Ah! Mornin', Father!" Jimmy said cheerfully, leaving Hamish with a serious face which quickly turned into a scowl.

"Aye, I ded," Hamish answered, gesturing for Little John to sit.

"Her highness having a bit of a lie in?"

"I bloody well am no'!" Fenny emerged from the little hut and squinted at Jimmy, who smiled charmingly.

"She appears! My Fanella, you're looking...soft today." He cast a sidelong glance at Hamish, whose scowl deepened. Fenny frowned at the highwayman.

"Aye...I s'pose..." she answered slowly.

One breakfast was done and eaten things were packed up quickly. Hamish and Jimmy were rather silent between themselves, making Fenny wonder. But she wasn't focused too much on them; she was too excited to be getting home. She could feel it close. Around noon it began to rain, and they reached a fork in the road. The right fork indicated a path to the lowlands, the left further north.

"This, I'm afraid, is where we part ways," Jimmy said solemnly. He gave Hamish another back-thumping hug goodbye and kissed Fenny's hand. He shook John's hand and tipped his hat as he bade them goodbye. "Be careful with that one, Little John," he called over his shoulder. "The rovin' way doesn't easily leave a lass."

Fenny frowned, but trusted John not to believe the highwayman. What was wrong with him? They continued on the left fork and she couldn't help but urge her horse onward as familiar landmarks appeared.

"C'mon! We're almos' there!"

[EvelynWillows]

Jimmy amused Little John. When the Scot greeted him as 'Father', the ex-priest leaned closer to him and said in a low voice "I'd offer to hear your confession but I haven't got a week to spare." He grinned and winked. Even though Little John himself didn't believe in confessing to anyone but the Almighty Himself through the Son, he knew that many people had a strong belief in the practice.

He wasn't used to the way the Scottish teased each other, though, so he wasn't sure what was normal and what wasn't. John figured that if Hamish tolerated it, the teasing must have been normal. It took all the self control he could muster not to turn Jimmy upside down and shake him a few times when he made Fenny grow quiet. He furrowed his brow and glanced at Fenny's brother for guidance, but didn't see anything that could be construed as carte blanche to give the highwayman's head a knocking.

Little John found his frown deepening at Jimmy's parting shot as he left down the right road. "Fenny says that Jimmy's harmless, a con and a coward," he said to Hamish, "but the most dangerous dog in the pack is the one afraid of you." He looked over at his future brother-in-law. "I certainly hope he's not the norm in these parts. I'll find it difficult to be a good guest if he is." He nudged his horse to catch up to Fenny. The more space he put between himself and the highwayman, the better.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Nah. She's righ', he's a con an' a coward. Werst o' all he's a Engleshman. Dun pay hem no mind," Hamish reassured him. "These're Scots yer goen to. They'll be suspeshess, bein' a stranger an' all, bu' yer weth us so they'll be friendly enough."

He pressed his heels into his horse to keep up with Fenny and Little John. Both he and his sister had their tartans pulled over their heads to keep themselves somewhat dry, but it didn't seem to be working very well. Fenny was enjoying herself, at least.

"No rain like Scottish rain," she quipped, tilting her head back and opening her mouth. It seemed, however, to be letting up again. Hamish reached over and tapped her on the shoulder before pointing.

"MacDonwold's pond," he said as a duck swam in neat circles in the rippling water. The rain had nearly stopped.

"Aye..."

The two looked at each other and grinned. Wordlessly they both urged their horses to a gallop, racing to be the first one home. Their horses pulled to a stop as they came upon the little village and Fenny jumped off, her feet squishing in the mud. As Hamish got down from his own steed, she threw her arms around him. Caught off-guard, he staggered a little then wrapped his arms around his sister's waist, picking her up and spinning her around.

"Hamish Balloch?" a young woman's disbelieving voice called as she walked between two of the lean-tos. "Fenny? Es thatchoo?" Hamish put Fenny down and they both looked up.

"Bridget?" Fenny squinted at the damp brunette.

Lots of screaming ensued as the two embraced, then pulled Hamish in. Faces peered out of windows to see what the ruckus was about, then more filtered out into the street. Within ten minutes the entire village was crowded around the siblings, hugging, shaking hands, asking questions. A party wasn't very far off.

[EvelynWillows]

There was a bit of innocent magic in the way the siblings could almost read each other's mind. Little John watched them racing off past the pond and then realized that they were that close to home. He figured he'd have felt the same way if he had any memory of living in Germany, but he was just a babe himself when they left he motherland.

He followed them, squishing and sliding their horses into the little village. Their jubilant spin-dance in the square warmed his heart, and though he was soaked to the bone he was glad they had made the trip. He sat there for a few minutes, looking over the town and simply enjoying being on the fringe of the sibling's happiness.

Bridget was a pretty girl. Little John immediately assumed she had been one of Hamish's friends. But Fenny squealed like a girl receiving diamonds, and he saw that they had been friends from long back. Maybe even grew up together.

As the town spilled its inhabitants onto the muddy streets to see what the ruckus was about, Little John felt a bit like a third wheel on a hand cart.

He dismounted his horse and stood idly by, knowing that once the reunion was done Fenny would remember him again. He caught a few odd stares from the Scots, and some wide-eyed children peeked at him nervously from beneath their mother's skirts, but overall he didn't feel like he was being analyzed too closely. Not yet, anyhow.

[The Lifted Lorax]

It was mostly the older people who came first, the ones who had known their parents. Then younger adults around Fenny and Hamish's age with their children came. Fenny lost track of whose hand she was shaking and who she'd already hugged. Over someone's shoulder Hamish heard someone wondering about "that queer giant" on the edge of the ruckus.

"Ach! Tha's no queer giant!" Hamish began to wade through the crowd toward Little John. Fenny tried to follow, but having significantly less to push through with, she got tangled up in people closing the gap behind him. "Et's me brother-en-law." He clapped a hand on Little John's shoulder. "Well...almost."

Murmurs ran through the crowd and Fenny was finally freed as people turned to look at her. A queer giant for a queer lass. They loved her but it was a curiosity that anybody wanted her, especially this old. She squeezed through the crowd to stand by Little John and held his hand.

"Aye. Tha's why we're back; I canna get married wi'out me Ma's dress." She smiled sheepishly, pink from embarrassment.

In a tiny village like this, no action went un-gossipped about and she was sure she'd just provided them fodder to last til winter at least. Suddenly from the back there was a clinking noise and a straw-haired middle-aged man held up several glass jars of clear liquid.

"Let's get pessed!"

A cheer went up and the entire town moved away from the houses, out to the field where someone's house couldn't accidentally be caught on fire. Someone had had the sense to move their wood in when the rain began, so dry wood was provided and a bonfire was soon roaring. Bagpipes, flutes, and fiddles were brought out and soon it was a proper party.

"Tolja," Hamish muttered to Little John. "Now, ef ye'll excuse me, I need ta go an' see how Mary McAvoy's ben doin'." He took a sip of whatever mystery alcohol was in his cup and ran his fingers through his hair before marching on to his potential conquest.

Meanwhile on the other side of the fire a group of young men had gathered around Fenny. She was passed around, being hugged and picked up and kissed on the cheek and hugged again. These were the boys she'd grown up with, the one's she'd pushed in the mud and played knights and dragons with as a child. The ones who, at least as far as she could tell, had never had any interest in her whatsoever. They may as well have been brothers or cousins to her--several of them were cousins of some sort--and so she was freely affectionate with them. Fenny, their Fenny, grown up and getting married, finally. Several of them joked that they'd have married her but for fear of her being stolen away by the likes of the stranger. Married! More hugs and signs of affection then she was brought a drink and sat to talk with them. Had she known Hamish had left John on his own she'd have called him over.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John watched the hugging and kissing, all seemingly very chaste from where he was standing, and vicariously enjoyed Fenny's day in the sun. The music and the clear liquid burning its way down his throat was making the day more a festival than he could have imagined a muddy field to be.

He nodded at Hamish's excuse to go visit an old friend. Briefly he thought to warn the man to look out for Mary's husband, but then figured out that he could handle himself. Plus, no woman properly married would have looked at the Scot the way she did with her eyes, would they? John took another drink and tried to stay out of the way. He caught a few glimpses of Fenny through the throng, but she seemed so happy he didn't want to interfere with her homecoming. Several of the men kissed her more than once on the cheek, and gave her overly-long hugs in Little John's opinion, but he once again was at a loss to know what was 'normal' and what he could righteously get jealous over. He wound up sitting on a log and listening to the music of her laughter floating over the fiddling.

"So, we heard you was a priest," a buxom blond woman stood near John with her friend, a darker redhead than Fenny, with a sharp smile and green eyes.

"Yea. How did'ja and our Fenny meet anyways?" her companion asked, sitting next to John. She smiled at him and took a sip from her drink. Then she noticed his mug near empty and poured some of her concoction into this cup. "There ye go. No need fer the bridegroom to be goin' empty now is it?"

Little John swallowed and took a sip. "Thanks. I ah, I met Fenny at the spring fair." He glanced over at he group of people huddled around his fiancee. He couldn't see her any longer, but occasionally her laugh would carry over to him.

"Yea?" The blonde asked. She had moved a log next to John's other side and was leaning towards him. She drank a bit of something from a horn. "Spring's the fertility season, ya ken?" She smiled crookedly at him. "What's a priest ken abou' makin' bairns?"

Little John found himself blushing furiously. "Ah...I was selling brews actually. Ales. Mead. Wines. I brew. That's what I do." He took another drink of the liquid fire in his mug. "I was done bein' a priest before I met Fenny."

The redhead laughed. "I bet! Who'd wanna go through life without sex?" She ran her hand over Little John's leg, then leaned away and looked at him over her shoulder. "Oh, you are a big fellow aren't you? No wonder Fenny snatched you up."

John just took another sip of his drink. He felt suddenly very, very far from home.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"So...wha' kinda a man es thess Lettle John?" a dark-haired lad named William asked as the initial affection settled down. Some of the old crowd had wandered off to drink or dance, a few remained around Fenny. She and William had been inseparable as children and she'd missed him very much. Still, she worried a little because the crowd was now so thick she couldn't see Little John across the fire.

"A priest," she answered simply. She drank deeply of the whiskey in her cup, squinching her eyes when she came up.

"A priest?"

"Ach! There's a drenk proper fer a Scot! Englesh ale...gnat's pess. I kin drenk all nigh' an' leave the pub stell walken straight." She shook her head in disgust. "John's brews're the only ones on the whole damn islan' as kin hold up ta thess. An' he's no' e'en Englesh!"

"Fen, a priest?" William looked concerned, though some of it may have been the redness of his face from his own drink.

"He's German. Der deutchemann." Between her accent and the slight slur, the German was terribly mangled. "Tha's why he soun's as he's from the lowlands, by the wey." She nodded seriously.

"Fennella!"

"Wha'?! Aye, a priest! Er he were a priest. Afore we met. Wha' of et?" William raised his eyebrows.

"Before? As en no' now? Y'see...I always knew ye could e'en change a priest's mind." He chuckled and nudged her. She grinned stupidly back, but pushed him away.

"Gerroff ya bampot! He weren' a priest when I me' hem."

"Ah...so ya ha'n't..." He wiggled his eyebrows and nudged her again. She laughed and shook her head. "No? An' et's ben a year? Ya mus' be getten et somewhere, then!" But Fenny shook her head again, curls falling in her eyes. "Wha'? Ya mean ya haven'...? Yer stell...?" She giggled as she nodded before taking another sip.

"No' like we dun wanna, o'course. Jus'...en't righ'." She sighed in frustration. "Bu' I really wanna...Bu' then he's all God an' Bible an' purity." She made a face. "An' then I feel bad fer e'en wanten et en the ferst place!"

"See, tha's the problem weth these educated types. They look doon on ya." Fenny frowned.

"John dun look down on me. He's e'en teachen me how ta read."

"Read?" William tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.

"Wha'?"

"Nothen."

"No Wellyem, ya go' sommat ta say. So say et." Even inebriated, Fenny was suddenly very serious.

"Well et's jus'...whacha wanna read fer? So as ye kin feel e'en better'n us? Ferget 'boot us more?" William finished off his drink and the mood of their conversation was taking a marked turn. "We weren't good 'nough fer ye an' Hamish ta stay. Weren't good 'nough fer ya ta come back like ya said ya would. Hell, on'y reason yer here now es fer yer ma's dress! An' now ya wanna learn how ta read. Jus' ta get a nod from yer high an' mighty book-learnen husban' who en't e'en man 'nough ta take whacha freely gev. Anehone here would, bu' we're no' good 'nough fer ya." He was avoiding her eyes, but she was staring very hard at him, her scowl getting deeper with each sentence.

"Ya take tha' back. Bou' John no' bein' a man. Et's no' tha' Scotland en't good 'nough fer me. I've messed et e'er momen' I ben awee. Et's tha' we coulna earn a leven. We canna leve here, Well. Et's no' tha' et's no' good 'nough."

"No, I'm no' good 'nough!" William put a fist to his chest. "I ne'er have ben. An' now yer off marryen some verjen priest as wun take a wemin as loves hem, an' prolly woulna ken how ef he ded!"

"Walk awee, Well." Fenny had a hard time getting her tongue around the words. "Ya wanna walk awee. Now, while we kin stell be friends. Coz I wun le' anehone talk abou' my John tha' way."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John hadn't heard Fenny laugh for a few minutes now, and it seemed like every time he politely took the redhead's hand off his leg she found a reason to put it back higher than before.

These wemen are mighty friendly... he took another sip of the hard water in his mug and then took a deep breath. He hadn't seen Hamish for a while now either.

"So, Priest...how'd you get Fenny to finally 'open up' to ya?" Blondie smiled and licked her lips. "She war always too good fer our boyos here. Whacha got that's better?" Her eyes raked his body and she leaned forward, revealing the curve of her bosom through her neckline.

John became very warm.

He sat his mug down and thought about standing, but the mere thought of it made his head spin. A few more deep breaths didn't seem to help any.

"Yer oot yer face!" The redhead giggled and her hand crept up Little John's thigh to where it met his hip. "Let Marjorie and Kaylee here help ya."

"No, I need ta find me Fenny," he protested, trying in vain to peel the eager hands away.

"Gonnae no' dae that! Fenella's takin' a spin roun' the maypole. We ken take a spin o'oir oen." Kaylee brushed her blond tresses off her shoulder and wrapped an arm around the tall man, smiling up at him with a wink. "Ye can hae 'er when yoo're merrit. Wa dornt ye enjoy us noo?"

The warning bells rang painfully in Little John's head. He shook his head and tried to stand, stumbling as he did and being pulled back down by two sets of very eager strong Scottish hands.

"E's thrawn, I'll giv' Fenny tha' mooch." Marjorie ran her hand up his leg again and looked up at him with wicked twinkle in her eye. "'main 'en handsome, gezz some loove." She drew her index and middle fingers across her pink lips, smiling as she ran her tongue along the length of her digits. "Lit us shaw ye a guid time."

Now he knew that he was in trouble. He tried to shake them off him, but wound up getting tangled in their arms and legs, his already clumsy self made mroe so by the barley whiskey. "Get off me. I want Fenny." He tried to look over to where she was sitting but he didn't see her through the dancing throngs of Scots.

"Jist close yer een, we're aw th' sam in th' mirk." Kaylee stood up on the log and ran her hands up Little John's body until she had her hands behind his neck. She leaned forward and planted a not-so-chaste kiss on his lips, showing him with her mouth how eager the rest of her was to give him a good sending off before he got himself married.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Will chuckled and shook his head.

"Yer a piece o' werk, ya know tha'? "

"Whaddya...?"

"I'm en love wi'ya, Fenny Balloch. Always have ben, ya blind bessie." Fenny blinked.

"Why den't ya tell me?" she finally asked numbly. Will smiled.

"Would ye've stayed?" Fenny shook her head. Will chuckled then leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers in a sloppy, drunk kiss.

"Ach!" Fenny pushed him off and slapped him sharply. "Wha's on yer heed?" she demanded angrily.

"We're drunk an' I migh' s'well try."

"Well dun! I'm s'good as married, y'ken?" A cheer rose from the crowd on the other side of the fire. She looked over and her insides went cold.

"Oh aye," Will chuckled, "he looks married arrigh'."

Leaving her friend to stew on his own, Fenny stomped around the bonfire. Reaching up, she twisted Kaylee's hair around her fingers, closed her fist, and yanked the girl to the ground. She kept a firm grip near her scalp and drew her dagger, nearly touching the point to her throat.

"Kaylee Douglas, ef I catch ye en five feet I'll these man agin I'll ugly yer face up s'much ya coulna pay a leper ta kess ya," she growled, fire in her eyes. "Why duncha go have a dance?" She let the girl up and Kaylee ran off. Whirling around she faced John, tears of hurt and anger starting to spring into her eyes. "Ya tell me tha' weren't wha' et looked, Johan Schnell," she said softly. "Please..."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John blinked in surprise when Kaylee kissed him. She had her fingers in his hair and was enthusiastically probing his mouth with her tongue, her inhibitions loosed by the whiskey and the excitement of a foreigner in her midst. It didn't hurt that she had always been a little envious of the way the boys looked at Fenella with her bright hair and her brighter smile. She pressed her breasts against him and moaned softly into his mouth.

It was frightening. The worst part was John was confused at how why body responded to this woman's touch . He was in love with Fenny; he shouldn't be reacting like this to Kaylee's kiss.

So when Fenny ripped her kinswoman off John and sent her running at the point of her dagger Little John brought his ringers to his lips and wiped the kiss off them, then looked at his fingertips as if he could discern the answer there.

"Fenny, it weren't what it looked like, I swear." He shook his head at her and the world spun a bit on its axis.

"E's a liar, Fen!" Marjorie swaggered nearby. "He was enjoyin' uir attention until ye cam by! Ye spoiled uir fin."

"She's the liar!" His head pounded and he felt like he everything he cared about was slipping though his fingers. "Why would I want some Scottish slut when I've got you?!"

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Fenny, I love you. There's nobody else. Ye gotta believe me."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Why would ye..."

Fenny's face was numb. Scottish slut? That wasn't all she was, was it? She tried to back into a seat slowly, but tripped over her own feet and landed on her rear in the dirt. Her insides felt like they'd been replaced with snakes and she felt sick. She set her elbows on her bent knees and gripped her head, closing her eyes and trying to make the world stop.

"Ya coulda pushed her awee...ya den't." She hadn't listened to Marjorie, but still she felt betrayed even if it wasn't his fault. She wiped her face and smoothed her hair back, only for it to spring back into place as soon as she'd let go. "I need a drenk..." she mumbled.

Fenny had had her own jealousy issues back in their village. Used to being the only woman around, at first she'd get jealous at any of the girls who'd even spoken to John, whether they were younger or older than she, unless they were married. Even the younger married ones she eyed suspiciously, feeling threatened by any pretty face. That had eventually faded after several heart-to-hearts with her brother about it. There were a few pretty German girls she was wary of, but she no longer wanted to hang their intestines about the house like a Christmas garland. But this...this was worse than anything she'd ever felt. She'd trusted him...still trusted him...still loved him...so why did it hurt so much?

[EvelynWillows]

Marjorie slapped Little John across his face.

But it was the look in Fenny's eyes that hurt him the most.

He put a hand to his cheek in surprise. Why wouldn't the damn ground stop shifting around?! He looked back at Fenny to find her gone...no, not gone...she was sitting on the ground. He took a few steps to where she was and lowered himself to the ground next to her.

"It happened so fast, I didn'a want ta hurt the Lass. I didn'a mean ta hurt you either. Please, Fenny, it was a mistake." He reached out to touch her, to somehow connect with her. "We dun need another drink. Let's just go to sleep and put this day behind us, ja?"

He was intensely aware of the others watching them. Surely this would feed the gossip mills for weeks, if not longer. He didn't care, though. He just wanted things to be right between them again. He wanted them to find her dress and go back home, where they could raise a family and grow a garden, and life could be simple and good again. He glanced up and saw a good-looking young man watching Fenny from the sidelines. Little John couldn't tell exactly what the expression was on that man's face, but it looked a little bit like...triumph.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny shook her head numbly. "Et's no' e'en mednigh'...an' no one's passed oot ye'." It was a general unspoken rule that that was the first anyone could leave a good party like this. They'd attracted the stares of others, but she paid them no mind. The party still went on around them. The bagpipe played, the villagers danced, everybody drank, life moved on.

She glanced over to follow Little John's gaze, then did a double take when she saw Will standing on the sidelines. She wanted to storm over and punch that arrogant smirk right off of his face. Even now, nobody was allowed to talk about Little John the way he had. But though she tried, her legs wouldn't move. All she could do was sit.

"I dunno, John...I jus'..." she shook her head again. "I ken et weren't yer faul'. I ken et happened fas'...bu'...I mean...ya coulda pushed 'er off, y'ken? I ded." Her head snapped up and she stared hard at him. "Den't wanna hert her?" She looked up at Little John, searching his face. "Didja like et?"

[EvelynWillows]

"No! No I don't like her, I don't know her. Tis just not right to hurt a girl. God, Fenny! Have I ever even looked at another lass since I met you? You're the only one for me. It was divine providence brought us together."

The music and the laughing seemed so out of place to him now, sitting on the mud across from his beloved. He inched closer to her on the ground, sitting facing her and wanting for all his heart to reach out and take her in his arms. Her dagger was lying on the ground beside her. Little John was half afraid to touch her and rouse her anger, but finally he reached out and put a hand over hers.

"Fen, I'm not a fighter the same ways as you are. I mean...you pushed him off but...wait. What?! Did someone kiss you?! Today?" He worked his jaw wordlessly, not sure what to say. "Are you talkin' about today?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I den't ask ef ya like her," Fenny snapped, "I asked ef ya liked et. The kess. Tha'...proper snog." She scowled at the thought.

As Little John reached out and put his hand over hers, she turned her palm up. It felt good to lace her fingers between his again, and she gave his hand a little squeeze. They were okay...everything would be okay. It was just a hitch. So long as John hadn't liked that kiss.

"Ya dun look a' the lassies...bu' they look a' ye. I seen 'em." She sighed and lowered her head as what she'd said registered. Tonight had made a fine mess of things. "Look. He's drunk, I pushed hem off, an' I gave hem a good slap 'cross the face ta remember me by. An' I stell go' a few werds ta have wi' hem on wha' he were sayen abou' ya." She raised their clasped hands and kissed his knuckles. "He's harmless, John." She didn't want her fiance getting into a fight with her best friend over a slight she'd already taken care of.

[EvelynWillows]

John leaned forward and pulled Fenny towards him to plant a 'proper snog' on his fiancee. He started tender at first, but the taste of her and the soft warm pressure of her lips urged him onward. He didn't even care if Hamish showed up and decided to deck him. He loved her, he wanted her, and he needed to replace the memory of the other woman's kiss with one that actually meant something to him.

"Damn it, Fenny. Everyone's getting to kiss you but me. I'm tired of havin' to stand on the sidelines and let you go yer own way. I want to be the one as gets to defend your honor and me own." He glanced back to where the other man had been, but he was no where to be seen.

"I dun care what time it is, Fen. Let's get out of here and go to sleep. I just want to hold you in my arms again and forget this night." He caressed the top of her hand with his thumb and then brought her hand to his lips. "Please Fenny, I dun wanna let you out of my sight agin."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny fell forward as Little John pulled her towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her fingers through his hair. And that kiss told her just the same as every kiss before it had: he was hers, always. He was a good solid man who would love her until the day she died. He'd kiss her even when she was grey and wrinkly and saggy, and he'd be the one to hold her hand through each pain she suffered bringing life into this world. They were okay. And he wanted her, and she him. As he tried to pull away she lunged forward for another deep kiss, pulling him to her by the front of his shirt.

"He's me bes' frien', John," she sighed after they finally parted. "I wanted ta deal weth et so folk woulna thenk ell o' ya. Ye kin figh' fer me honor, jus' dun esspect me ta lay doon an' take et when yer no' aroun', arrigh?" She kissed the tip of his nose affectionately. "'Sides, yer drunk, too." A pause. "Bu' so'm I."

Fenny sighed. She was very tired from their journey, and she didn't want to fight anymore. Looking around, she stood and helped Little John too his feet. Guiding him by the hand, she started to lead him out toward the woods.

"Et's bad form ta leave yer owen party afore the guests," she said quietly once they were out away from the music, "so I fegger look like we're sneaken off ta where all the young luv bairds be en an nigh' like thess." Fenny led her fiance by the hand to the left right before they reached the forest and made a wide circle back around to where they'd left their horses. "Et's a bet oot o' th' wey."

On horseback she led them about a mile to the east. In the gloom, an old stone barn (http://www.rickcallahanphotography.com/images/Ireland/thatched_roof_stone_barn.jpg) with a thatched roof loomed up out of the fog like an ancient sentinel. It looked as if it had seen the celts come here from the south, watched the druids from afar as they built Stone Henge, seen the first Christians dare wander up into the north country. Nearby were the remnants of what had been a hut (http://www.ii.uib.no/~petter/mountains/100mtn/November/1518_stonehut.jpg) built of similar stone and once thatched, but blackened stone beneath the moss showed that it had been burned long ago and although the roof was gone, moss and grass of its own was starting to creep back in to reclaim the territory. Through the threshold Fenny could see a sapling springing up where the fire pit had once been.

"I grew up here..." she said softly, looking sadly at the remnants of the burnt-out hovel. "Family's all o'er there ef ya wanna met 'em." She pointed some hundred feet to the left of the barn and back a ways, where four roughly-hewn (http://www.photosofchurches.com/Templates/images/Bulgaria/Bulgaria,%20Lozarevo%20Church,%20Ancient%20Grave%2 0Marker.jpg) crosses stood upright, though the cross-beam on one of them had half-crumbled on one side. Fenny was glad to see that at least every now and then the town sent someone to pull the weeds from the graves. "We kin slep en the barren, seein as they den't buren et."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John ached for her; in his life, in his arms...she was the blood that coursed through his veins. There was no reason why anyone would begrudge them a few minutes (or hours) alone after the spat they had. He happily wandered with her to their horses, then away from the others for a good distance until they came to her home. He looked around he little homsestead and felt the sadness that must have drove her and her brother from their homeland.

The crosses hit him with their finality. "Aye, Fenny. I suppose I should meet your family, eh?" He walked with her to the grave site. "Tell me about your family Fen. Do ya think your father would have approved of me?" For some reason that meant a lot to him. He had felt the disapproval from many of the clansmen tonight; Will being only one of many who wondered why a good Scottish man wasn't enough for Fenalla Balloch.

He wanted desperately to marry her, to put a ring on her finger and declare for all time his dedication to this fabulous woman beside him. He couldn't even afford to buy her a ring, though, and they left his home knowing that they'd be penniless when they returned. It was alright though; the farm would be there, and if he had planned it well at least they'd have a crop of potatoes and parsnips to help them through the winter. Hamish's skill with the bow would probably be a big help too.

"Evenin' Mister Balloch, sir." Little John stood over Fenny's parents' graves and looked solemnly at them. "I wonder if you'd bless my wantin' to marry your Fenny. I love her something fierce, and I promise to care for her until the day I die. And if the good Lord permits and I die first, I'll wait for her at the gates of heaven until we're together agin." He squeezed her hand gently. He waited there a few moments, listening to the breeze and feeling the misty air around them.

Finally he turned back to Fenny. "Let's find us a spot to sleep, Fenella. I'm needin' to feel you breathin' against my skin."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny held Little John's hand tightly as they walked toward the graves. It would be the first time in seven years she'd visited her family, and the thought terrified her. They'd be sad that she'd been away so long. She swallowed hard as they walked across the overgrown lawn and John asked her to tell him about her family.

"They was all strong," she said thickly, "good folk. Da' were one o' the bes' men I e'er ken, hones' an' true, denna b'lieve en thess clan war shite tel Ma died, an e'eryone knew he loved me Ma verra much." She took a deep breath as they drew closer. "He'd've liked ya. Ma an' Mary were more alike ta each other'n ta me. Quiet bu' busy, verra beau'ifull...weth hazelnut hair an' cream-colored sken. Blue eyes. Better weth a needle'n I'll e'er be." She smiled a little. "Tried ta tech me pay-shents...coulna set stell long 'nough." She giggled nervously. The walk to the graves seemed to be taking forever and she felt herself sobering up with each step. "Alastair...he were a'ways so serious, worse'n Hamish. Bu' he were a sly one an' a'ways slepped a joke en ye woulna catch et ef ya wirren payen 'tenshin."

John stood over the graves, but Fenny knelt between the two middle ones which belonged to her parents. She kept her hand over John's and rested it on her shoulder as he spoke to the graves. Only the wind answered. At length he spoke.

"He says yer arrigh' fer a German, wansta ken jus' like err'body else why a Scot en't good 'nough fer me." She chuckled nervously, trying to alleviate some of the extreme anxiety that came with her being here. It was no good; she felt her throat begin to burn. "Bu' duncha leave 'er, John Schnell. Duncha dare try'n die afore 'er...She coulna walk en thess wereld aloan."

Fenny finally let go of John's hand for a moment to wrap her tartan about her. At first it was to keep out the cold, but without realizing she found herself hugging herself and rocking gently, tears spilling down her cheeks onto the graves of her parents. She sniffled and tried to stop, but that only made things worse. She nodded numbly when Little John suggested they find a place to sleep, staggering to her feet. Her face felt heavy from the snot and tears that come with weeping for lost love.

[EvelynWillows]

It broke his soul to see her crying in the graveyard. She was so frail, so perfectly beautiful in her brokenness, and he was helpless to take away her pain. When she stood up and walked with him to the barn he felt his inadequacy like an albatross around his neck. It weighed him down and threatened to take everything good in his life with it.

"It's okay ta cry, Fenny. Maybe mournin' is the best reason for coming home." He wrapped his arms around her and found a place for them to put down their blankets and settle for the night. The horses were hobbled nearby where they could graze and move a bit without getting tangled up in the rubble of the buildings. John held her close to him and rocked her as she sniffled.

He was a handy man to have around. He could mend fences, thatch roofs, dig wells and put up walls. He could brew well, cook sufficiently, and was a fair hand at fixing most things that might need mending on a farm, but he didn't know how to mend a broken heart. The worst thing was knowing that some of the tears were being shed for the pain he had caused his beloved today. Little John tucked her head underneath his chin. "I love you, Fenny. I promise I always will."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny helped lay out a place for them to sleep and once they laid down clung to Little John as tightly as she could. She hid her face in his chest, glad that it was only him here. She just needed to cry, not to be fixed. She didn't want to be fixed.

"I love ya too John," she whimpered into his chest, "always well." She sniffed twice, and then came the downpour. "God I shoulna ne'er come here," she squeaked between sobs. She felt pathetic and small. "Shoulda jus' slept en the field ou' en toon...I...I..."

But she was never able to finish her sentence; sobs took over and wracked her tiny body. She clung to Little John as if she were being blown away in a storm. He was her rock and her strength. The only time her grip was loosened was when she eventually sobbed herself to sleep, the first time that had happened since those graves had been fresh.

Dawn came and shortly after so did a man. The man (http://www.geeksofdoom.com/GoD/img/2012/02/2012-02-09-billy_connolly-533x299.jpg) was older, greying, and serious-looking. Untrimmed thick eyebrows gave him a menacing look amongst his greyish-white hair and beard. He drew his sword before entering the barn, and he entered quietly. He looked down at the sleeping couple a moment or two and shook his head disdainfully.

"Get up," he commanded in a stern voice.

[EvelynWillows]

"Not now, Hamish...it's been a rough night." Little John pulled the blanket up around Fenny's shoulder and snuggled back into her warmth. The cool morning air cut through his skin and pushed him deeper into wanting to stay asleep. The soft nicker of their horses nearby was a soothing sound that eased any worry he might have felt.

"I said get up."

Little John cracked an eye and looked up at the greying man. The glint of sword metal in the morning light instantly sobered the Deutschman. He shook Fenny gently in his arms.

"Darling, we'd better get up," he said quietly. "I dun think this is yer kinsman." The foggy forest still held the chill of the night close to the ground, and it seemed that the cold was soaking upwards into his limbs. His head felt likewise foggy. John nearly swore off drinking as he took in their predicament.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny stirred at the first time the man spoke, and a little more the second time. She actually poked her head up out of John's chest, however, when he shook her gently.

"Mmmff?" she looked around blearily, and rolled halfway over to squint at the greying man. "Ach..." She patted Little John and stood, swaying a little on the spot from both sleep and hangover. "Why're ya here?" she asked after squinting at him for a few moments.

"Heard ya were en toon," he answered evenly, his sword trained not on Fenny but on John.

"O'ernigh'?"

"Werd travels fast," he shrugged. "Rode all nigh' ta ge' here. Heard ye were looken fer me."

"Aye. Ach! Ye kin knock tha' off! Put et awee!" Fenny gestured at the sword in an irritated manner. It was the first time in this conversation she'd shown her usual, emotional self. The rest of the conversation her tone had been very even and calm. After looking between the two for a moment, the older man acquiesced.

"Thess hem?"

"Aye." The old man gave Little John an appraising look.

"Looks stupet ta me."

"Ach!" She scowled at him, but a moment later moved forward and the two embraced in a tight hug, thumping each other on the back a few times.

"C'mon, getcher horse. I stell need ta find yer brother."

Fenny rolled her eyes. "Prolly passed oot en some married wemin's bed."

The older man turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway and turned to look back at Little John. "Are ya deef boyo? I tolja ta get up!"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John scowled at the familiarity between Fenny and this new stranger. Obviously he was one of her kinsman. He certainly had the ‘uncle’ glare down, and his habit of pointing the sword in his hand towards John was a familiar sentiment.

“Are all yer kin like this?” Little John asked Fenny. “They’re either cursin’ or blessin’, and it’s usually me they’re cursin’ and you they’re blessin’! It’s starting to wear thin, me darling.” He shook out the blanket and folded it before following the Scot out the barn doorway. Once there he quietly unhobbled Fenny’s horse and tightened its girth before checking on his horse.

He certainly hoped that Hamish wasn’t out defiling someone’s marriage bed. Especially after all the care Fenny and John had been taking to keep their own bed pure. After Fenny’s near-rape the year before and then last night’s misunderstandings Little John was beginning to wonder why they were even waiting so long. He knew he loved her, God knew how he felt—but they were stuck waiting until certain man-made traditions could be upheld before living truly as man and wife. Wasn’t that why he had left his priestly calling? He had to choose between following God’s way or man’s way, and the way of man lost.

Little John chewed his lip. He’d have to talk to Fenny about that once they had some time alone again.

He mounted easily and waited for their guide to direct the way. It had irked him the way the man had said that John looked stupid. Was it merely a difference in culture? He wasn’t sure if they simply couldn’t say a kind word to each other or that they were truly that desensitized to the way words and phrases could hurt. He knew one thing: he was tired of being polite and taking the insults with a smile.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I ken, me love, an' I'm sorry." Fenny waited until the man had left the barn before turning to Little John. "Et's jus'...their wey. I'm...I'm the babe o' the family, an' th' on'y girrel as left, an' they dun trust strangers." She sighed, knowing Little John must be tired of being hit and threatened and having weapons pointed at him. "They dun mean e'erythen they say. Uncle Argyle dun thenk yer stupet. Et's jus'...their way o' talken, sizen a man up. Ef ya wan' their respect, ye'll hafta demand et. Lookit Hamish. He started liken ya jus' as soon as ya poked hem en the nose. I'm no' sayen I wancha pecken fights weth me kin, bu' ef they start pullen shite jus' call 'em on et. They're no' a...tender lot." Fenny stood on tiptoe and pulled him down a little to kiss him. "I love ya, Lettle John," she said with a soft smile.

Uncle Argyle was already on his horse when they came from the barn. He scolded Fenny in a strange-sounding language and she snapped back as she made her way across the lawn.

"Have ya visited yer mother?" he asked her in Scottish Gaelic, a tongue she'd grown up with but seldom used anymore except when she and Hamish had secrets to keep. Argyle used it much more often in his household.

"Aye." She swung up on her horse and brought it next to Uncle Argyle's as he started leading the way back into town.

"An' ya seen e'erone?"

"Aye."

"Even young William?" There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye and Fenny pursed her lips.

"I guess ya heard wha' happened?"

"No' hard ta mess en a vellege like thess. Wha's Will thenk o' thess John?"

"Dun like hem."

"Course no'." The old man chuckled. "I hear they call hem Lettle John. He dun look too lettle ta me, so he musta got et from somewhere..." Fenny flushed a little then rolled her eyes.

"Tha's no' et. Hes father were Beg John, an' he's Lettle John. Tha's all."

"I guess ye'd know, eh?" Uncle Argyle leaned over and nudged her, winking. Fenny shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"No' really."

"Bullshite. How long ya ben weth hem?"

"Lettle more'n a year."

"Bullshite. Ya ken."

"No, I dun. Why would I lie 'bou' sommat like that, hmm? Stead o' the opposite?"

"Fair point, I guess." He shrugged. "Stell, Will's more'n a bet disappointed. Ye kin tell coz he's stell drunk."

"Aye, well he kin stay drunk fer all I keer. He denna have anethen nice ta say, no' e'en an 'I'm happy fer ya' er suchnot, so he kin jus' stay ou' o' et."

"Musta made ya some sort o' displeased..."

"Aye." She glanced around at John and smiled at him. "We're goen back ta the village, as Hamish'll likely be there. I thenk the fields're our best bet." She slowed her horse a little to be even with him and reached over to take his hand. She couldn't wait to be back with him in their nice soft, warm bed.

(*note that everything in Italics is supposed to be Gaelic...but I couldn't find a translator)

[EvelynWillows]

Little John was tickled to listen to the sounds of Fenny and her uncle Argyle in their Gaelic tongue. The country side was beautiful but severe. He scanned the land, wondering what kind of crops the people could coax out of the rocks and moss. All he saw was tiny, tenacious flowers and herds of craggy sheep. He looked over at Fenny again and wanted to be able to provide her with dresses and cloaks to keep her warm no matter the season, and cute sturdy shoes for her little feet.

He heard them say his name a few times. Each time it was difficult to not ask her what she was talking about, but he figured that if she wanted him to know she'd have spoken in a tongue he understood. Maybe it wasn't her who wanted to keep the secrets, but her uncle who needed to know for himself if Little John treated Fenny right or not.

John smiled at Fenny when she said they were going back to the village. "I suppose we have to go back there eventually," he teased. "Your uncle didn't happen to 'ave brought the dress with him, did he?"

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I ded," Argyle answered without turning around. "I'm old, boyo, no' deef. No' verra brigh', es 'e?" he added to Fenny.

"Stop et." Her voice was carried more of a warning tone than she'd meant to let on, but she was tired of constant ribbing. "Ya brough' et?"

"Aye. I left et weth Wedda McKay. She's fexen et up from the journey an' the time."

"Ach! Thank ye Uncle Argyle!" Fenny grinned broadly and would have ridden up to throw her arms around him but feared falling face first off of a very high horse. Instead she squeezed Little John's hand excitedly and turned her grin to him. "Now we kin ge' married whene'er we wan'."

"Ya mean ya dunno when yer marryin' the lad?" Uncle Argyle's voice was incredulous but he only turned his head a little to be heard. "Wha's on yer head girrel?"

"We was plannen fer October, Uncle," Fenny replied evenly. "Bu' I mean...after a year o' waiten, jus' abou' any time seems th' righ' time, hey?" She smiled at Little John.

"I see...An' yer getten hetched up oot here, right'?"

"Er..." Fenny bit her lip and looked at Little John for help.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John shrugged. "Anytime's good, Fenny. I've been callin' you my wife in my heart since the day I met you. And there's no reason we couldn't get married twice. I'd marry you every day if'n I have to."

He looked over at her and realized he might have said too much. "I mean, unless there's some sort of importance to waitin' till October. I want you to be happy."

He looked up at her uncle and then smiled back at his fiancee.

"As long as we dun have some pagan priest o' the earth chantin' over us and disrespectin' the Lord Almighty I'm happy marryin' you any day and any way you want.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny smiled at John's sentiment and shook her head. "No, no special reason. Et's jus'...weddens are awful expensive, hey?" She looked shocked at Little John's comments about pagan priests. "Whatcha take me fer, John Schnell, a complete heathen?"

"Schnell?" Up front Uncle Argyle had arched a dark, busy eyebrow.

"Aye, Schnell. Wha' of et?" But Fenny knew what of it. To her mind everyone should just be glad she wasn't marrying a Frenchman.

"Nothen," Argyle said at length. "Nothen a'tall. Et's...a lovely name, pet." Fenny scowled at his back. "Et's jus'...Fenella Eugena Schnell soonds kinda funny, dun et?"

"So's Balloch. I go' a funny name ef ya hanna notessed." Fenny tinged pink. She'd always hated her name, her middle name especially. She supposed Little John had a funny middle name, too...but at least he had a normal first and last name. "Ma were stell drunk on pain an' Da were jus' drunk, I'm fair sure."

"Dunchoo go showen sich desrespect, Fenella!" Argyle snapped. "Have a keer fer the deed, an' yer parents." Fenny looked down like a scolded child. Argyle had been her mother's twin and her death had never really left him.

"So I mean...weddens're expensive, hey?" Fenny said after a few moments of silence. "I mean...two weddens'd be grand, bu' kin we afford et? An' which'd be our anniversary?" And which their wedding night? That was something she meant to bring up with Little John when family wasn't within earshot.

[EvelynWillows]

He looked over at her and grinned. "I love that Eugena! Jeanie....maybe we can name our first daughter that, eh?" He scowled over at her uncle. "An what's yer last name, Uncle Argyle? Dun tell me it be Wallace, 'cause that'd be about the hundredth time I heard that from a Scotsman."

Little John chewed on the side of his cheek. "I dun understand why a weddin's got to be expensive. People et ev'ry day...why not just ask them all ta bring a bowl to share? Tha's wha we'd do back home." He narrowed his eyes as they got closer to the town and began to look both for Hamish and Will. He caught sight of Marjorie flirting with a bearded man between two houses.

Guess she's moved on, he thought.

"An as far as I'm concerned, Fenny, our anniversary's the day I asked ye ta marry me and you said yes. Nothing that happened in me life before that means a damn. Pardon my tongue, Fen, but ya know what I mean."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Oh me wee tender ears," Fenny quipped sarcastically, nudging John a little when he apologized for cursing. "An' Eugena were me gram's name. I woulna wesh et on any daughter o' mine fer all the werrild."

"MacKenzie," Argyle growled, and left it at that. Fenny looked sidelong and her fiance and tried to think of how to break this to him.

"Back home ya go' neighbors as kin afford et," she said softly. "We'd have a grand feast o' cabbage stew an' week-old bread, then leave an' e'eryone'd starve fer the next week." Little John truly didn't understand just how poor the village really was.

"As much as I'd like ta see ya wed en yer homeland," Argyle said after much thought, "ye canna ferget Prima Nocta, lass." Fenny's eyes widened slightly and she nodded.

"Aye...Et'd be a bit o' a run-away wedden, hey?"

"Aye," he agreed solemnly. "Ach! Where's yer useless brother?"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John considered the difference between between Nottingham and here, and was very thankful that Fenny and Hamish had left when they did. He was horribly eager to leave now. Just take Fen and go.

He scanned the little hovel of a town for his future brother. He saw a few familiar faces, all seemingly nursing heads that pounded like his own.

"How can ya have this first night tradition still? I thought your king was a godly man."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"On'y as godly as Prence John," Uncle Argyle said with a scowl. "They tell us thess es Englesh land an' he's our keng." He shook his head in disgust. "An' the laird as thenks he owens thess land es very...tradeshunil." Fenny shook her head and made a face.

Suddenly there was a loud commotion coming from one of the houses. Several wandering chickens squawked in protest as there was the pale flash of a naked man being thrown into the street. He laid on his back as a balding man poked his head out and threw his tartan after him.

"Found Hamish," Fenny said mildly. This clearly wasn't a new situation. She rode over and leaned on the neck of her horse. "Husband?"

"Father," he grunted. "Oh. Uncle Argyle!" Hamish squinted up with one eye and waved. Uncle Argyle looked less than impresed.

"Get up," was all he said. "Put some clothes on."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John tried not to scowl at Hamish. For someone who guarded his sister's virtue like the crown jewels, he seemed to have little regard about taking favors from women himself. John averted his eyes from Hamish's pale, nude body and waited until he had wrapped himself up in his muddied tartan before speaking.

"I suppose I should thank you for not being so blatant in our hamlet," he said to Hamish once he started tucking his tartan around his waist. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."

He moved his mount closer to Fenny and caught her eye. "I don't mean to be hasty, Fenny, but I feel a storm brewing in this land. Can we do what we have ta and go home soon? I'm afraid that if'n we don't, we'll have a hard time ever getting back."

His eyes were unsettled (http://i1201.photobucket.com/albums/bb353/EvelynWillows/LittleJohnfaceonly.jpg). It was the same look he had when he told the hamlet's elders about the dead men in the forest, and later when he explained to Fenny that he had to repay the taxes from the previous year because of the fire the men had set. He looked up at the hill and could almost imagine a group of riders coming over the crest and demanding to drag Fenny away. His heart pounded against his chest at the thought of losing her.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye..." Hamish grunted, adjusting his kilt. His shirt had been left in the house and not thrown out after him, so for now he was forced to walk around bare-chested. "Bu' I ne'er touched any of 'em, jus' so's y'ken. Sommat...no' righ' aboot et."

He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of deflowering one of the lovely German girls of the neighborhood. His sister tilted her head and squinted at him; something was off. Unless she was a virgin Hamish almost never had any scruples when it came to the women he bedded, so long as she was pretty. Maybe he was changing, too. She bit back a wry smile at the thought of Hamish finally settling down. It was a hilarious notion, but she'd be very happy for him.

Fenny looked at Little John when he caught her eye. He looked worried and anxious. She nodded when he asked if they could go home soon. She too felt something foreboding in the air and wanted to leave before whatever it was happened. Though she'd had a happy childhood and though she loved her country, it held too many problems for her to want to stay much longer.

Uncle Argyle dismounted and led the way to Widow McKay's door, knocking sharply. An older, frail-looking woman opened the door and hugged both Fenny and Hamish as they passed through. She greeted Argyle with respect, but paused when John walked in. This was...a very large stranger. Still, after her moment's pause she wrapped her arms around him as best she could to welcome him as well.

The dress (http://www.skyridgedesigns.com/imagelib/sitebuilder/misc/show_image.html?linkedwidth=actual&linkpath=http://www.skyridgedesigns.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/medieval_wedding_threequarter_view.jpg&target=tlx_new) was hanging up from a line, usually reserved for the wash, stretched across the only room. Fenny's breath caught as she saw it for the first time in many, many years. As a girl she'd loved to hold the fabric against her face her bury her nose in it to catch the scent of her mother, and was often jealous of Mary for inheriting it. After their mother died, however, Duncan Balloch had put away his wife's dress and given it to her brother for safe keeping until his daughters were of age. The good widow had put new laces through the eyes in the back and mended a few places where the translucent green fabric of the sleeves were beginning to wear away from the white.

"Ach...thank ye, Messus McKay..." she said breathlessly, stepping forward to touch it reverently. It was the finest clothing her mother had ever owned, and now the finest she'd ever own. Uncle Argyle rocked on his feet and cleared his throat a little.

"An' I uh...I brough' these..." He held out a pair (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K003iKwJkNg/TTIgX8XXeiI/AAAAAAAAHX8/fH2zzLDexeo/s1600/rag%2Bdoll.jpg) of old ragdolls (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K003iKwJkNg/TTIgXsGqSNI/AAAAAAAAHX0/7EQF9Hr2Vj4/s1600/my%2Bragdoll.jpg), looking a little awkward. "I found 'em en the hoose, righ' afore they bernt et. Feggered sense ye're getten married an' all, ye'd be haven bairns. An' ef ya have any wee lassies...well...ya migh' wan' 'em."

Fenny jumped on her uncle, nearly choking him with a hug. The dolls had belonged, of course, to herself and her sister. She kissed him on the cheek as she let go and took the toys eagerly like a child on Christmas.

"I though' they'd ben lost er burnt er sommat," she grinned. "I dunno how I kin thank ya...both o' ya." She turned and hugged the Widdow McKay as well, and the frail woman smiled.

"Tweren't nothen lass," she said in a voice just as whispy as her body. "Ye jus' have a grand wedden and the happiest marriage ye kin an' et's thanks enough."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John felt a bit uncomfortable entering Widow McKay's home, but he didn't want to be anywhere where Fenny wasn't. He nodded to the older lady as he stepped in. "Good morning, Missus McKay," he said nervously. "I'm Fenny's John." He welcomed her hug and smiled a bit uncomfortably.

"Oh, it's lovely, Fenny. Jus' lovely." He could imagine her in the dress, her long wild hair cascading over her shoulders and fresh flowers in her hair. The image of it warmed him and made him long for home. When Fenny hugged her dolls and her uncle Little John felt a bit misty at the thought of the children they might have.

He kept his thoughts to himself, though...he didn't want them to think that he was more interested in the making of babies then the actual children themselves. He saw the joy in her eyes and then couldn't help himself. "That were thoughtful sir. Thank you." He smiled at Fenny; at the way she glowed, and the happiness in her eyes.

"And you!" he gave Hamish a light punch in the arm. "You'd better'n not teach our boys your wild ways or you n' I'll have a few words, eh?" He grinned.

Still, even with the joy inside the little cottage, Little John felt unsettled. He wanted to flee; to grab his woman and leave, but decorum wouldn't allow it. Not after the work that Widow Mckay did and the traveling Uncle Argyle put in to be there so quickly. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps...I'll jus' step outside and give you some time to catch up," he looked at Fenny. "I'll be right outside."

- - - Updated - - -

Little John felt a bit uncomfortable entering Widow McKay's home, but he didn't want to be anywhere where Fenny wasn't. He nodded to the older lady as he stepped in. "Good morning, Missus McKay," he said nervously. "I'm Fenny's John." He welcomed her hug and smiled a bit uncomfortably.

"Oh, it's lovely, Fenny. Jus' lovely." He could imagine her in the dress, her long wild hair cascading over her shoulders and fresh flowers in her hair. The image of it warmed him and made him long for home. When Fenny hugged her dolls and her uncle Little John felt a bit misty at the thought of the children they might have.

He kept his thoughts to himself, though...he didn't want them to think that he was more interested in the making of babies then the actual children themselves. He saw the joy in her eyes and then couldn't help himself. "That were thoughtful sir. Thank you." He smiled at Fenny; at the way she glowed, and the happiness in her eyes.

"And you!" he gave Hamish a light punch in the arm. "You'd better'n not teach our boys your wild ways or you n' I'll have a few words, eh?" He grinned.

Still, even with the joy inside the little cottage, Little John felt unsettled. He wanted to flee; to grab his woman and leave, but decorum wouldn't allow it. Not after the work that Widow Mckay did and the traveling Uncle Argyle put in to be there so quickly. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps...I'll jus' step outside and give you some time to catch up," he looked at Fenny. "I'll be right outside."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny jumped at John's appraisal of the dress and spun around. "Ach! Dun look! Et's bad luck!" She stood on her toes to try to cover his eyes, but height and a handful of dolls conspired against her.

"Leave hem be, lass," Uncle Argyle said, finally cracking a smile. "He'll make hes own luck." He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently, and she obediently lowered herself back to flat feet. Argyle looked a little surprised when John thanked him and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Ach!" Hamish rubbed his shoulder and hit John back. "On'y room fer one rogue en a family an' I'll be damned ef et's taken up by some young pups." He tried to pass it off playfully, but the truth was he wouldn't teach his nephews his ways for all the money in the world.

Fenny grabbed John's hand and opened her mouth to try to keep him from going, but as she did there was a commotion outside. Hamish and Uncle Argyle crossed to the windows and peered out. Hamish swore loudly.

"Turnbulls..." Argyle's face had fallen into a scowl and his hand was already on his hilt.

"Oh no..." Fenny groaned with a pained look. "Please, dun--" But Argyle and Hamish were already out the door to meet the men in blue and green tartans (http://standrewcaro.org/images/Tartan-Turnbull.gif) storming through their street on horses.

[EvelynWillows]

"What is it?" Little John looked at Fenny and saw her stricken look. "And why are they always in such a hurry to fight?" He followed the men out the door as well, looking a bit perturbed.

The Trumbulls had a mighty group of men with them, and each and every one carried a greatsword. The claymores could hack through a body with uncanny ease; after seeing Hamish with his, Little John developed a sense of respect for the large weapons.

Little John stood by the door to Widow McKay's home, determined that no trouble would get through to harm Fenny while he still lived. He hadn't drawn his own sword yet (http://www.medieval-weaponry.co.uk/acatalog/rhinelander-sword-710.jpg), but if he needed to it was close at hand.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Ye dun unnerstand," Fenny said, shaking her head and standing near the doorway with Little John. "Turnbulls're the next clan over, an' they've ben tryen ta claim our land fer nigh' on a cenchry. En me Da's time we almos' had peace...bu' then some stupet MacDonald boy went an' go' a bastard from Hector Turnbull's granddaughter an' thengs jus' got werse. They ah...they kellt me Da an' Alastaire..." she looked down. "Hamish en't too popyler weth 'em, neither...well, he's popyler weth their daughters." She shook her head and sighed. "Thess were me Da's fight...no' mine an' not hes."

"Ya go' no righ' here, Ewan Turnbull," Uncle Argyle growled, sword drawn.

Most of the other men of the village had run out to join them. They were all as hung over as John and Hamish, but this was more important. Hangovers wouldn't matter if they let their rival clan tromp through as they wished. Women, like Fenny, were standing by the doorways or peeking through windows. She saw Kaylee across the way but didn't spare her a second glance. Ewan, nearly a head taller than Uncle Argyle and twice as wide, dismounted and strode up to him.

"Thess en't yer fight, MacKenzie," he said in a low voice. He had wild brown hair with flecks of grey, reminding Fenny of an aging but dangerous bear. Her fingers slid slowly to her own weapon, but for now she stayed on the sidelines.

"'Tes s'long's I got kin here," Argyle answered evenly, unflinchingly returning Ewan Turnbull's cold stare.

"Then we'll hafta fex tha', wun we?" His eyes slid to Fenny's brother. "Dun thenk I hanna fergot bout ye, Hamish Balloch. Yer lucky nothen as happened ta me niece er I'd've kellt ya meself, n'matter how far ya run. Bu' looks as ya saved me the trouble, boyo."

"Raise yer sword ta me an' ye'll have an entire village on ya afore yer arm swings a blow," Hamish answered coolly. "How es Kenna?" He smirked cockily. Fenny groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

"Whaddya wan'?" William stepped forward, weapon ready.

"We come ta take all as rightf'ly ours es all," Ewan answered, looking around. "Our land as Archie MacDonald stole...an' maybe a few o' yer wimin fer penance." As he spoke three more men dismounted, weapons drawn.

"Penance fer what?"

"Fer every man of Clan MacDonald as laid a hand ta our daughters. Now ef ya ken wha's good fer ya, whelp, ye'll keep silent! Let the men talk."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John's heart grew cold. It was a damn clan war over land and women! No, it was over pride. The land and women were just an excuse.

"Stay inside," he said quietly to Fenny. He knew her; she'd be out defending her own honor if it came down to it, but right now the declaration from the Turnbulls chilled his soul.

They'd take a few of their women for penance.

His hand found the hilt of his sword. This clan war had suddenly become his fight as well. He waited for the first sound of a sword being drawn; there would be no quarter as far as he was concerned if anyone hurt his future wife.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"John!" Fenny put a hand over his sword hand. She shook her head. "Thess en't yer figh', neither. I lost too many men en me life o'er thess war, I wun lose ya too." She wouldn't go back inside as she was told, but she didn't intend to fight, either. She kept a hand near Lilith in case of trouble, but this was one fight even Fenny would shy away from.

"Ye'll die tryen!"

"Wellyim," Argyle said sharply, not taking his eyes off of Ewan. Will looked abashed and fell silent. "Leave peacef'ly an' there dun hafta be bloodshed taday."

"Well, y'see MacKenzie, bloodshed's kinda wha' we came fer."

Uncle Argyle's sword had hung at his side in a foolish hope of not having to use it. Fenny saw a flash of steel and that's all she needed. It wasn't her fight but she wouldn't watch more family die, either. With a shout she'd bounded from the doorway and body-checked her uncle as Ewan Turnbull's sword came down. The old man was spry for his age and was back on his feet quickly.

"Fenella, get enside," he said sharply as Fenny clambered to her feet. "Now!" She nodded obediently and tried to cross Ewan's path quickly to get back to Little John, but was brought up short as the elder Turnbull buried his fingers in her hair and yanked her back. She shouted in surprise and her hand started to go to her sword; she'd even cut her hair to get free if she had to.

"Touch et an' yer a deed wemin." She felt the cold kiss of steel against her throat, exposed by having her head wrenched back a little. Ewan grinned. "An' who's yer lettle savior, Argyle?"

"No one." But despite his detached tone, the quiet panic in Uncle Argyles eyes gave him away. Hamish's anger and panic was a bit more clear.

"No...I thenk she's someone...Lemme see yer face, gerril." Fenny hissed in pain as her head was yanked back more so that Ewan could look at her. It was clear in his face he knew he had the upper hand. "By James, Hamish, she do look a bet like ya, dun she?" Indeed the resemblance was unmistakable. "Tha' mus' mean...yer wee Fenny Balloch as what turned me sheeps loose. Ye've grown, gerril!" He grinned and chuckled before becoming very serious. "Half me livelihood drooned en the loch tha' year."

"I were seven," Fenny grunted, trying to show neither fear nor pain but a bit of both were on her face, "I denna mean ta. Ef et's sheep as ya wan' I kin try ta--"

"Tha' weren't the point!" he cut her off with a snarl, shaking her by the hair and causing her to yelp in pain. The edge of his sword applied a tiny bit more pressure to her skin. "Now, tha' makes her yer niece, dun et MacKenzie?" He looked to Uncle Argyle, then to Hamish. "Seein' as I kellt yer brother meself, I'm guessen any nieces ya got o' yer owen're too young. Bu' she'll do."

"I'll kell ye!" Hamish was red with rage. He took a step forward and raised his sword, but Ewan forced Fenny a step back and exposed her throat a little more.

"No' afore I kell her. A niece fer a niece...tha's fair, en't et Argyle?" he added, looking over to their uncle.

"We kin talk et oot Turnbull, jus' let 'er go." Argyle wasn't as rash as his nephew, but he wasn't foolish enough to put up his sword either. All he wanted was for the village to be left in peace and the safe return of his niece.

"Donald, thess wee lass go' a weapon. Mus' be sich a heavy burden fer such a slight girrel. Why duncha relieve 'er of et, save 'er some trouble?"

A burly, bald man with a curly brown beard slid from his horse and took Fenny's sword, scabbard and all. He took the claymore out and examined it and for a moment he looked genuinely impressed. He slid it back into the scabbard with a sharp snap and looked at her.

"Beg sword fer sich a wee lass. Mine's begger." He smirked suggestively before re-mounting his horse.

"No need ta be crass, Donald," Ewan chided, not taking his eyes off of the men before him. "We'll jus' be taken a few more afore we take our leave, thanks."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John had stayed his hand at Fenny's behest. If she said that it wasn't his fight, then it wasn't his fight. He stood with her at his side and watched with a trembling spirit as the Turnbulls declared that they came for blood.

As Fenny ran across the short distance between herself and her uncle John shouted "NO!" He saw in a flash their children gone, their future gone...every thing that mattered in life was gone when the impulsive, fiery-haired haired lass charged out to protect her kin.

He watched in silent horror as she was nearly jerked off her feet by this man, this Ewen Turnbull. The customs of the Scots were foreign to him. Anything he said might flame the fan greater. He couldn't risk doing anything to endanger her, but he couldn't sit by and let her be taken either.

They took her sword from her as she hung helpless, her throat exposed to the leader's blade. Little John took in the chaos threatening to spill over from this encounter and knew that this was the storm he felt. He took a step forward and looked at the man grasping Fenny.

He could only manage a small prayer in his head--Oh dear God!-- but he knew that the Almighty heard his every unspoken utterances, and understood even better than himself what he was praying for.

"Ewan Turnbull, if you take Fenny you're not takin' MacKenzie's niece; you're taking my wife. I dun have a quarrel with you... yet. There are better ways to settle a fight than to punish the women. You're a better man than that." He saw a flicker of something in the other man's eyes.

Whether or not it was a scornful comment or a word of peace, he'd never know, because that was when Kaylee ran screaming at the Turnbulls with her sword drawn, and all hell broke loose. Donald grabbed the girl's hands and wretched the sword from her grasp as he swung her belly-down over the top of his horse. She screamed and kicked for all she was worth, but the burly man had her beat in size and strength. Ewan spurred his own horse on, half-dragging and half-carrying Fenny up onto his own saddle.

Damn it! Little John sprinted for his horse. He had to get her back no matter the cost. As people screamed out behind him he knew that the cost would be great, and a clan dispute that had simmered quietly for years was about to overflow.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Wife?" Ewan laughed. "Es et true, lass? Yer thess Engleshman's wife?"

"He's no' a--"

"Shut up!" He jerked her by the hair again. "No sort o' Highland lass'd marry a man as canna provide 'er even a reng. I dunna see a reng, d'ye?" Fenny remained silent.

She heard the hiss of steel. Out of the corner of her eye, Fenny saw a flash of blonde.

"Kaylee, no!"

She moved to intercept the stupid girl, but was jerked up short again. She winced but resisted as much as she could as she was pulled over to Ewan's steed. Fenny couldn't help but scream in pain and clutch her scalp as she was dragged up into the saddle. By the time she'd gotten her bearings, the horse was at a gallop. She looked over it and down at the quickly passing ground.

"Dun e'en thenk aboot et, lass. Ye'll break yer neck." Ewan's arms were on either side of her, holding the reigns.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. At this speed she'd break her neck. It wouldn't do her any good to run as soon as she was off of the horse, either. Ewan Turnbull's farm was nearly seven miles away; if she wasn't caught right away, dogs would track her down easily.

[EvelynWillows]

Several men lay bleeding in the dirt as thundering hooves and the screams of women shattered the evening air. One of the men was a Turnbull, and as he gasped for air red flecks dotted his lips. He wouldn't be long for the world.

"Hamish! Your horse!" Little John had already leapt on his mount and was turning its head towards the Turnbull's backs. "Where's your bow? Hamish!!! Where's your bow?!"

As his heart worked at shattering his ribs from the inside, Little John's hate and fear narrowed into a dark pinpoint. He felt all his good sense burning away. He saw a glimpse of Argyle and a few of the other men running for their horses or simply running down the road, their swords and voices raised in impotent protest.

To his left, Will was grabbing Fenny's horse and sliding onto its saddle. He had the same panicked, wild-eyed look that Hamish and Argyle had. Little John's heart twisted when he understood that Will loved Fenny, just as he did.

He spurred his horse down the street. He couldn't wait for the others. Fenny needed him.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish sheathed his sword and ran for his horse. His heels skidded in the dirt as Little John reminded him of his bow. Where was his bow? Without thinking, he burst into the house from which he'd been thrown not an hour prior and quickly located his bow and quiver. Snatching them up and flinging the quiver on his back as he ran, he swung onto his horse and heeled it to a gallop to catch up with Little John. Any others coming with them could catch up; he wouldn't allow the Turnbulls to put more distance between them.

"Thess es clan bezness," Will called, only slightly behind John. With Hamish on John's other side they were riding three abreast. "Go home, preacher. We'll handle et." He looked angry that anyone apart from Fenny's family had dared accompany him on his bold rescue.

The Turnbulls, meanwhile, had already arrived at Ewan's farm. Fenny and Kaylee were dragged into the barn where they were tied at the hands and ankles by rope. The leader looked at them thoughtfully.

"See, the theng aboot plans es...when they actually go righ', ye never ken wha' ta do after. So...wha' ta do wi' two lovely young lassies en their prime...tied up en me barrin." He put a hand on his chin in thought. "I thenk I'll ken by the time I'm done weth me breakfast." He smiled nastily and turned to go, but not before turning back and backhanding them both across the face.

"Yer a stupet girrel, Kaylee Douglas," Fenny growled, spitting blood from her now-split lip into the hay.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish sheathed his sword and ran for his horse. His heels skidded in the dirt as Little John reminded him of his bow. Where was his bow? Without thinking, he burst into the house from which he'd been thrown not an hour prior and quickly located his bow and quiver. Snatching them up and flinging the quiver on his back as he ran, he swung onto his horse and heeled it to a gallop to catch up with Little John. Any others coming with them could catch up; he wouldn't allow the Turnbulls to put more distance between them.

"Thess es clan bezness," Will called, only slightly behind John. With Hamish on John's other side they were riding three abreast. "Go home, preacher. We'll handle et." He looked angry that anyone apart from Fenny's family had dared accompany him on his bold rescue.

The Turnbulls, meanwhile, had already arrived at Ewan's farm. Fenny and Kaylee were dragged into the barn where they were tied at the hands and ankles by rope. The leader looked at them thoughtfully.

"See, the theng aboot plans es...when they actually go righ', ye never ken wha' ta do after. So...wha' ta do wi' two lovely young lassies en their prime...tied up en me barrin." He put a hand on his chin in thought. "I thenk I'll ken by the time I'm done weth me breakfast." He smiled nastily and turned to go, but not before turning back and backhanding them both across the face.

"Yer a stupet girrel, Kaylee Donald," Fenny growled, spitting blood from her now-split lip into the hay.

[EvelynWillows]

"She's my Fenny and it's my business!" Little John called back. "But if you want to spill some blood you're welcome to it!" He urged his horse onward, not caring at that point if the beast dropped dead once they arrived there. The fresh tracks on the road were easy to follow, luckily, but Little John still had no idea what he was going to do once he got there.

Oh Jesus, spare my Fenny. Please, jus' keep her safe.

He fought the angry tears of frustration that were threatening to course down his cheeks. All he wanted was to marry his girl and love her until the end of their days, but it seemed like everything was against them. He wanted that simple life, that peace that only she could give him.

* * *

"Aam nae stupet, Fenella Balloch. Ah cooldnae lit them tak' ye, nae efter kissin' yer John. It wooldnae be reit." She tried to wipe her eyes off on her shoulder.

"Anyway, uir kin will rescue us. They willnae lae us haur tae rot. Mebbe a day ur sae afair we gang haem. Ah can stain a scuttle wi' a turnbull fur a coople ay days." She sniffed.

* * *

Argyle and a few others in the camp had clambered onto their horses and were following behind the three young lads at a slower pace. They had more experience with this, but also a bit of wisdom. They knew that if they waited a bit the Turnbulls would either be deep into their drinks or into the women.

Either way, their swords would not be as deadly. It might mean a bad turn or two for the girls but it would be worth it to save them. And if one were to get with child...well...they'd deal with that if it happened.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Young William scowled, urging his horse to keep up with Little John.

"Ye barely e'en ken 'er compared ta me," he argued. "She en't jus' yer Fenny, y'know. She go' a family an' friends an' a home here." He didn't look at John as he shouted over, but kept an eye out for obstacles. He didn't need to follow tracks; he knew where Ewen Turnbull's barn was and only hoped he could get there in time.

"'E's family 'nough," Hamish shouted over the wind whistling in their ears and the pounding of the horses. "An' yer her frien' stell. Now ya wanna quetcher arguen like a coupla old beddies?"

"I can'" Fenny scowled, spitting more blood into the hay as it leaked into her mouth. "An' et's no' my faul', neither, ya gettin' caugh'. An' ef ya thenk thess makes whacha ded okee, tha' I wunna teer yer heer oot ef I see ya en five feet o' my Lettle John, yer wrong. I dunno why ya ded whacha ded, bu' duncha dare e'en lookit hem funny agin. Clear?"

She wouldn't look at Kaylee, not after what she'd done. She'd never quite liked the girl anyway, for reasons that she hadn't really understood, but now felt vindicated that there was a reason for disliking her. Still, the anger at vindication being at her own expense was enough for her to claw the girl's eyes out right there.

[EvelynWillows]

At that point Little John didn't care if Fenny decided to pick Will over him; he just wanted her safe. Safe and with the one she loved, even if it was someone else. The thought squeezed his heart like a vice.

As they rounded the bend the farm could be seen far off in the distance. The horses had been left to fend for themselves outside the little barn and a thin line of smoke stretched up from the chimney. Sheep grazed peaceably in the field behind the little house, and everything looked harmless.

Little John frowned. "Is that it?" He wanted to find the girls, to get them home, but this looked too peaceful. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that they were going to attack the little house in the middle of the muddied road. He slowed his horse while he surveyed the area for ambushes and traps. It didn't seem plausible that the Turnbulls really wouldn't have expected the others to follow.

"So do you think they're in the house?"

Right then a young girl came out and threw a pan full of dirtied water in the front yard. A few chickens that had gathered there scattered.

Kaylee sniffed. She glared back at Fenny. "Oh, yoo're sae superiur, now, aren choo? William wasnae guid enaw fur ye, an noo ye brin' some high an' mighty priest fa can reid an' say he'll be yer hoosband." She spat. "Weel ye can gang tae heel. Leetle John looked at mah tittes as onie other man woods, an Ida hae him in my knickers if ye hadnae showed up."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye," Will said, throwing a scowl at Hamish for calling him an old biddie. "Tha's et."

The other two slowed their horses as well, looking around for any sort of ambush. Will and Hamish exchanged looks and nodded.

"They dunno ya, John, an' they thenk I'm jus' a lazy no-accoun'. They're expectin' Uncle Argyle an' the others," Hamish said quietly.

"Aye," Will agreed. "They shoul' be aroond en a few hours ta callect the girrels."

Both Hamish and Will looked at the girl who had come to throw out the water and looked at each other, wondering the same thing. Two wrongs didn't make a right, but she could be a useful bargaining chip.

"Wellyem? Es tha' wha' tha's aboot? Ach! Ye kin have 'im ef ya hanna arready!" Fenny shook her head in disdain. "Las' nigh' were the firs' I heerd abou' hem haven any sorta feelen fer me, an' he well as migh' be Hamish er Alastair er sommat! I dunna thenk he en't goot 'nough fer me, he esspected me ta be a damn mind reader! An' anehone as kin look acher tets ef they're hangen halfway oot like they were las' nigh'. Fuck, I were looken acher tets!"

She rolled her eyes at the stupid girl. Fenny grabbed her near her scalp, however, and held her head down to the ground when Kaylee said she'd have had Little John in her knickers. "Ya dun ne'er say tha' boot my John," she growled, leaning down close to the blonde. "He'd ne'er e'en touch a hoor like ye. He'd ne'er touch anehone as apar' from me."

[EvelynWillows]

Kaylee laughed. "Oh? Sae ye hink John's a better man than yer faither? Yer Da hud his turn wi' th' girrls in toon tay. An' e'fucked a few ay th' turnbulls tay. Whaur dae ye hink Hamish learned tae be sic' a rogue? Yer Da's no saint, un neither's yer John."

She struggled to kick at Fenny with her feet. "Git off me ye whoor! Nae a body believes yoo're still a virgin!"

She finally twisted enough around that she was able to head-butt Fenny despite the grip Fen had on her hair. "I saed git off!"

Little John watched the little girl going about her business. A roar from inside made her hurry. "Move lazy lassie! Ah want mah tatters an' neebs! An dun ferget da bier!"

He shook his head. "Looks like 'es looking for dinner. I dun see the gals though; there's no chance they went somewhere else is there?" He started to move his horse forward as he looked across the little farm. He slowly drew his sword so that it hung low from one hand as he guided the horse forward with the other.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Nah, thess es Ewan's hoose," Will said, creeping foward slightly behind Little John. "Bu' he'll wan' the girrels separate."

"Dun wan' 'em felthen up hes hoose," Hamish nodded in agreement. "They're prolly en the barrin then."

"Thenk they'll have guards?"

Hamish shrugged. "We'll find oot, hey?"

Fenny was dazed momentarily from the headbutt, knowing that if she hadn't had a grip on her hair Kaylee could have probably knocked her out. Rage boiled inside her as she dragged through the mud the name of every man she'd ever held important. Lacing her fingers together tightly, she swung and knocked Kaylee upside the jaw.

"Ye take tha' back ya commin slut!" she shrieked, knocking Kaylee over with the force of her body then kneeling on her chest. She held her down by the throat. "I'll strangle ya weth me own hands!" She of course only meant to choke the girl until she blacked out...but it was fun to make her think she was murderous. She could have, with what she'd just said about Duncan Balloch.

- - - Updated - - -

"Nah, thess es Ewan's hoose," Will said, creeping foward slightly behind Little John. "Bu' he'll wan' the girrels separate."

"Dun wan' 'em felthen up hes hoose," Hamish nodded in agreement. "They're prolly en the barrin then."

"Thenk they'll have guards?"

Hamish shrugged. "We'll find oot, hey?"

Fenny was dazed momentarily from the headbutt, knowing that if she hadn't had a grip on her hair Kaylee could have probably knocked her out. Rage boiled inside her as she dragged through the mud the name of every man she'd ever held important. Lacing her fingers together tightly, she swung and knocked Kaylee upside the jaw.

"Ye take tha' back ya commin slut!" she shrieked, knocking Kaylee over with the force of her body then kneeling on her chest. She held her down by the throat. "I'll strangle ya weth me own hands!" She of course only meant to choke the girl until she blacked out...but it was fun to make her think she was murderous. She could have, with what she'd just said about Duncan Balloch.

[EvelynWillows]

Kaylee screamed when Fenny threatened to strangle her. She'd much rather be fucked by the Turnbulls then strangled by Fenny. She kicked out and whipped her head around, trying to dislodge Fenny's hands from her hair.

Little John whipped his head towards the barn. Images of Ewan and Douglas raping Fenny washed across his mind. With a fierce kick he was barreling his way towards the little stone barn, his sword out and his heart nearly exploding with trepidation. He hopped off his horse as it neared the barn and ran the last few steps.

The three men from the Balloch and McKensie clans weren't the only ones who heard the scream. Ewan grabbed his claymore and ran out of the house. No one had better try to steal what he had rightly stolen in the first place!

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Shut up, ya stupet betch, just shut up!" Fenny struck Kaylee across the face again and returned her fingers to the girl's throat. A scream would only draw attention to them...which, she supposed in retrospect, was just what Kaylee wanted.

"No, John!" Hamish hung his head momentarily. "Ach!" He raced after Little John, William close behind.

"Great kensmen ya go' here," William called sarcastically as they tried to keep up with Little John.

Fenny released her grip on Kaylee's throat as the barn door burst open.

[EvelynWillows]

Kaylee picked that moment to smash her tied hands across Fenny's face and try to kick her away. "Aye haet yoo, Fenny! Yoo alwaes though' ye was bettern' all'o us! Yer not!"

"Fenny!" Little John's voice filled the small barn. He rushed over to her and pulled her into a tight, air-expelling embrace. "Oh dear God! Thank you!" He held her for a long moment, not even seeing the other woman in the barn. Kaylee's flailing feet caught the large man across the temple and sent him backwards to the dusty ground. He grunted in surprise.

"Oh sheet!" Kaylee saw that the man wasn't Evan or Douglass, but Fenny's own Little John. "Aye tho 'e was'n Turnbull Fenny, ae swaer!"

Outside the barn Ewan and Douglass had raced across the short distance from the house to the barn and were intercepting Hamish and Will. "Yoo're meetin' yer ain death, boyos! Ye shoods rin back haem if ye want tae live!"

Douglass gripped his large, two handed claymore and swung it at Will's horse's legs, smashing through bone and sinew and sending the massive animal head over hooves to the ground. The horse screamed in pain, thrashing with what was left of her legs as she tried in vain to run away from the chaos. William leapt off his horse as she fell but wound up getting the air knocked out of him. For a moment he laid on theground, stunned.

"Tha were derty, Douglass Turnbull!" He rolled to his hands and knees and stood up, looking around for his sword.

"Aim jus a derty mahn, and yoo'l soon be ah ded mahn lad!" He gripped his sword and moved forward to finish off the unarmed youth.

Ewan swung his own sword at Hamish as he rode past, but Fenny's brother was quicker than the older man. The look on Ewan's face was clear; one of them was going to die today.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's head whipped back as she was knocked across the face and she lost her balance, falling off of Kaylee. But she looked up as she heard her name and her heart leapt. She knew he'd come for her.

"John!" She struggled to get up, but he came to her and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

She wanted to be able to put her arms over his shoulders or around his chest to hug him properly, but her arms were pinned between their bodies. She settled for kissing his neck, the only part of him she could currently reach. Then Suddenly Little John was on the ground.

"Stupet girrel!" Fenny snarled. "John, are ye arrigh'?" She offered her bound hands to help him up. "We gotta ge' oot o' here. Our lettle genius o'er there screamed; surely they'll be commen ta see wha' the matter es." But her head shot up and she looked at the door as she heard the scream of a horse. "Untie me, John. Now. I need ta find me sword."

Hamish loosed an arrow as he rode by, aiming for Douglas Turnbull's face but instead he moved and the arrow struck him in the shoulder. Still, he'd at least bought Will some time. He jumped off of the horse and stood to look at Ewan, slinging the bow across his back and drawing his sword. This man needed to die.

"Ye kellt me brother," he said in a low growl.

"An' yer Da," Ewan added with a gleeful smile. "They both begged fer marcy en the end. Funny how I'll ge' the honors o' fenneshen off yer whole line, hey?"

"Ewan Turnbull, taday es the day ye die." Hamish's voice was low and almost calm-sounding. He felt the same rage beginning to boil inside him that he'd felt when he saw his sister pinned to the forest floor by four men. With a great war cry he charged at the older man and swung.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John worked to untie the knot but it was bound too tight. "Damn this to hell," he muttered, taking out his knife and sawing through the rough rope. He freed her hands and then looked over at Kaylee.

I suppose I should help her too.

Quickly, wordlessly, he cut Kaylee's bonds off as well, as Fenny untied her own feet. He felt dirty touching the other woman, as if she embodied all the secret lusts a man might have. She looked at him with her blue eyes and heaving chest and smiled with a quirk in her lips. "Ida rather yoo be the un tyin' me up," she couldn't help herself. The sexual innuendos just flowed from her lips. Forgotten was the fact that they were close to being raped and that men might die over her; she saw muscle and man and wanted both.

Little John didn't dignify her with a response. Instead he handed his dagger to Fenny. "Here, until you find Lilith." He turned towards the door, to where the sounds of a screaming horse and the clash of metal awaited them.

Ewan blocked Hamish's attack and then kicked at his knees, driving him back with a grunt. "Yer no a fighter, Hamish! Mi' as well die like the dog ye are!" He swung at Hamish's head, expecting to see the filthy face of his enemy falling to the ground. "An afta aye keel ya I'm goin' ta fill yer sis up wi' me seed until ets cumin' out'r ears, Hamish Balloch! She'd be my hoor lik all yer family es!"

William was holding his own against Douglass, but the bigger man was driving him back by sheer force alone. He grunted with each swing. He wanted to force the younger man back over the falling branches of the tree behind him. If he could get the lad to fall on his back he could make the kill swift, then be back to his dinner and his fun before the sun set over the lowlands.

[The Lifted Lorax]

If looks could kill, Kaylee would have been dead in fractions of a second.

"I'd rather he be tyen ya up, too," she growled as she untied her legs, "leave ya here ta be raped an' murdered. Et'd be jus' fine by me. Serve ya righ'." She took the dagger from Little John and was so very tempted to drive it through Kaylee's throat...but she wasn't a murderer and she was sure John already disapproved of what she'd said. She stood with John and put her hand on his arm, standing on tiptoe and pulling him down with a free hand to kiss him. "Ha' a keer, me love. I dunno wha' I'd do ef sommat were ta happen ta ye."

As they went out the door, Fenny turned left to sneak into the house. Fortunately there was no one in the kitchen and by some miracle of God Lilith was on the kitchen table. The sword had been half-drawn, as if being examined. Snatching it up, Fenny reattached the scabbard quickly and drew the sword before sprinting to the door.

Hamish ducked as the big man swung at his head. Ewan had an advantage in size, but Hamish--being smaller and comparatively lighter--was much quicker. He tried to ignore the verbal attacks, but the image of Fenny being violated by this man sent him into a full on rage. He swung at Ewan's knees, then his shoulders, then his head. By God he had to hit something!

William held his own against large Douglas, but he was being driven back and losing ground. He had to start driving the Turnbull back or he would be right where he wanted him. But for every step forward he seemed to take two steps back and felt the rough touch of bark on his ankle.

[EvelynWillows]

Kaylee knew what she'd do if Fenny got hurt. She'd be there comforting Little John, but she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut this time.

Little John was focused on the fight and didn't see Fenny sneak off. He reached back of him to take hold of her hand but got Kaylee's hand instead. "Stay with me," he said. "I can't lose you again." Kaylee squeezed his hand and was content to be where she was. After all....he took hold of her hand, it wasn't the other way around.

Douglass kept driving Will back. The younger man stumbled and went down to one knee. "Tha's righ! On yer knees befer yer better'n, boy!" He was about to bring his sword down in a killing blow when Argyle MacKenzie came thundering around the bend with Alistair Drummond in tow. Their horses kicked up mud and dust, and their eyes blazed with murderous rage. Alistair was a woodsman; a woodcutter by trade. His axe flew with deadly accuracy and hit Douglass in the thigh.

Little John saw Hamish fighting Ewan, his swings wild and angry. He moved to run forward but was jerked back by the woman holding his hand.

"No! Dun go John!" She grabbed his large hand with both of hers and pulled him away from the fight. Little John turned to Fenny to tell her to let him go, but...it wasn't Fenny on his hand.

It was Kaylee.

"Where's Fenny?!" He shouted, his eyes searching the farmstead.

How had he lost Fenny so soon?

Ewan managed to nick Hamish's arm but do little else. Between his experience and the young man's rage they were equally matched. Argyle, though, saw his brother's murderer and charged his horse over the yard to run the bastard down. This feud was going to end now.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny ran out of the kitchen door, sword drawn. The first thing she saw was Kaylee holding Little John's hand with both of her hands. Her insides turned cold and she wanted to rush at the girl and drive her sword through her wrists. But the next moment Uncle Argyle was thundering around the corner with Alistair Drummond. She watched Alistair's axe hit the younger Turnbull in the thigh.

Fenny took a few steps forward to enter the fray, but Argyle barreled across the yard with the intent to run Ewan down. She ran to help William instead, Douglas being hurt and two on one being even easier.

Hamish hissed in pain as his arm was nicked, but looked up to see Uncle Argyle racing towards them. Knowing his intent, he staggered out of the way. He wanted to kill the bastard himself, but he wasn't going to argue with an angry uncle on a horse.

[EvelynWillows]

Will was able to parry Douglass' swing with the greatsword, but his grip on his own sword was compromised and the weapon sprang from his grip. Alistair rode past the two in his horse's haste, his hands being empty of a weapon anyway because he had thrown his axe. He barely missed Will in his hurry, and seemed to be fighting the blood-crazed horse for control.

Douglass laughed at Will and reversed the grip on his sword to come back around and cut the lad's head off.

In the meantime, Little John was able to jerk his hand from Kaylee's, but the effort sent them both sprawling in the mud. Ewan swung his sword back past his shoulder and nearly missed accidentally taking off John's head as he fell behind him. The near-miss could only be providence; John should have been dead.

Hamish saw an opening and could have taken it but Uncle Argyl was racing to crush Ewan's skull, and Hamish had to leap away to avoid being in the foray himself. Uncle Argyl saw John fall at the last minute and turned his horse's head to leap away from the fray. Although he wanted the sonofabitch Ewan dead, he didn't want to hear Fenny whining about how he'd crush her English priest's skull in the process.

Ewan still stood. He moved forward to finish off the Balloch brat when a tree root grabbed hold of his ankle and jerked him backwards.

It was Little John.

He pulled back and up, yanking Ewan off his feet, big man though he was, and opening up a chance for someone to attack him in that split second before he figured out what was going on.

Ewan, the man who had killed Fenny and Hamish's father and brother. Ewan, the man who had planned to take Fenny's virtue and make her his own, lay vulnerable on the dirt next to Little John.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"WELL!"

Fenny sprinted through the mess, dodging the two horses as well as Kaylee and Little John. Douglass seemed to be moving in slow motion as his arm swung, edge of his greatsword aimed for Will's neck. Lunging forward, Fenny drove her claymore through the man's neck. A sickening gurgle emitted from Douglass Turnbull's throat as the greater portion of the sword emerged through the other side, spearing his Adam's apple. Blood dribbled from his mouth as he fell to his knees, choking on steel and blood, his grip on his own sword lost. Fenny had to put her foot on his back and push him forcefully away in order to dislodge her own weapon, and stood staring with wide eyes at the man as he slowly suffocated. Will was in shock for a few moments, but recovered sufficiently enough to put his hands on Fenny's shoulders and pull her into a hug, turning her face into his neck so as not to see the man's death throws. Not seeing it still didn't mask the choke-gag-gurgle of the dying man.

"Dun look, luv," Will murmured, petting her hair. "S'arrigh'. Ye ded th' righ' theng."

Hamish braced himself for defense against the large Turnbull and blinked in surprise when suddenly he disappeared. No, not disappeared. He was on the ground with Little John's hand around his ankle. Ewan Turnbull was on the ground and vulnerable. Hamish didn't have to think twice. With a mighty cry he stepped forward and brought his blade down on the man's neck, severing it cleanly. Blood from one of the arteries spurted across his face and chest but he didn't seem to notice. Reaching down, he wiped the blade clean on Ewan's Tartan before working up a good amount of phlegm and spitting on the body.

"Tha's fer me family," he muttered before extending a hand to Little John to help him up.

[EvelynWillows]

Uncle Argyl had turned his horse around and now brought it to Hamish's side. He looked down at Ewan's body. "Gut riddance. We should' burn the 'ole farm doen and wipe 'es lot off the fae o'the land."

Little John had gotten back to his feet thanks to Hamish's help. He saw Kaylee scramble to her feet behind the men. "No, MacKenzie. Two wrongs ne'er make a right. It's time to end this through forgiveness."

Argyle spat at Little John's feet. "Who'er yoo ta tell us hoe ta end the feud? Ya gots no rights here, mahn."

Little John turned to look at Fenny. He heard her call Will's name, and the panic and concern in her voice was unmistakable. He watched William stroking Fenny's wild red hair; his hair, and comfort her as Douglass gurgled out the last of his life onto the soil. John swallowed down his pride.

Maybe he really didn't belong here. Maybe this year had been God's way of showing Fenny what He really wanted for her. Little John watched Fenny melt into Will's embrace.

He wanted her to be happy. John's eyes stung momentarily. Happy and safe, even if that was without him.

He put his sword away in it's sheath and looked at Hamish. "We should leave now before any more blood is spilled." John looked at Argyl. "You canna undo an act once it's done. Please...don't make this any worse that it is."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish heaved Little John to his feet and left Kaylee to scramble for herself. Even before they'd left he'd had no use for her; she talked too much but said very little. He scowled up at Uncle Argyle.

"Well 'e's a damn sigh' bedder'n ye a' et!" he snapped back. "Clan Turnbull es begger'n thess, an' ye ken tha'! Ef we kell hes family, more o' 'em would come. Then more MacDonalds would come. Then e'en more Turnbulls! Et'd ne'er end, Uncle Argyle." He bent and grabbed the head by the hair. "We'll fetch a sack an' call et gut, hey? 'Sides, ef we burren th' farrem we'd kell ennisent folk weth et. There's at leas' a girrel en there ne'er dun nothen ta nobody. S'at righ'? Er are we bedder'n 'em like we says we are?"

Will walked Fenny over to the small group. She shed no tears, but her legs were shaking violently and her eyes were wide and unfocused. He handed her over to Hamish, who supported her with his head-free arm. She clung tightly to her brother while Will pried the sword from her grip, cleaned the blood off, and sheathed it for her. She didn't seem to notice. While the men argued she looked at little John, searching his face for something though she herself wouldn't know what until she found it.

Hamish nodded when Little John suggested they leave. He turned to his horse and began to lead Fenny over, her own having been disabled and subsequently killed. After helping her into the saddle he paused and looked at Uncle Argyle before tossing the head to him.

"Do wha' ye thenk es righ', uncle. Ef ya wan' more lives loss, more blood, more war, ef ya wanna kell a ennisen' girrel, same as our Fen...burren et. Ef ya wan' thess ta end...fetch a sack. Bu' me an' mine we'll have none o' et. Thess en't our war." He swung up into the saddle and waited for Little John to mount his own steed.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John didn't know what it was in Fenny's eyes, but something had happened. He watched Will hand her to Hamish and felt a little bit of pain when he understood that he wasn't included in that gesture. He saw the tender, familiar way Will eased the claymore from her fingers and cleaned the blade, and the intimate way he slid the sword back into the sheath on her hip.

Will hopped up on another horse and followed Hamish away from the farm. He turned and waited when Hamish did, wondering what was keeping the lunk of an Englishman on the filthy piece of soil.

John saw Will's horse, who was really Fenny's horse, still struggling to get up on it's two broken legs, and felt a surge of empathy for the creature. He kneeled by the creature and stroked its nose. Then he took Ewan's sword and drove it through the animal's spinal cord, putting it out of its misery. Once that was done he fetched his own horse and on impulse went and took one of the MacKenzie's horses 'as penance'. Fenny would need a horse to replace hers. The dead horse had been one that a neighbor had loaned Little John for the travel. He needed to repay that debt when he got home.

With a sinking feeling he understood that he might be traveling home alone.

"We cum ta get ta girrls back an all 'e keels is a dyin' 'orse. Fyne country man, Hamish. Feerce, that 'un." William turned his horse away from the seen and frowned at Fenny's brother.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"S'a gut theng ya ded there, John," Hamish said solemnly as Little John put the poor creature out of its misery. He looked sharply at Will as he spoke ill of his soon-to-be brother-in-law. "S'me brother, Well, ye better watch yer mooth. He's the one as freed the girrils an kept Ewan Turnbull from taken me head off. Whachoo do? Lose yer sword an' get rescued by a wemin half yer weight." He turned back to John. "Less jus' ge' the ruddy dress an' go hoam. We kin send men as ta cut up the horse an' breng et back. Meat's meat, an' s'more'n they seen en a while."

Fenny clung to Hamish's waist when he clicked his tongue and the horse started to move. He kept the pace slow so that the new horse could be led without the steeds getting tangled, spooked, or aggravated. He wasn't patient, however, and soon he looked at Little John again.

"Thenk we should put 'er on thatun? We kin ge' back faster tha' wey."

[EvelynWillows]

Little John looked over at Fenny. It might be faster, but he wasn't sure how she was doing. "Do you think you can sit a horse alone, Fenny?" He really wanted to bring her over to sit in front of him so that he could wrap his arms around her and keep her safe. She hadn't looked at him since they left the farm, though.

He mistook her silence for lack of care.

He rode up next to Hamish and spoke softly to the Scot. "Thank you for your words back there Hamish. It meant a lot to hear you call me your brother." He longed for Fenny to meet his eyes. He looked at her and wondered if she regretted Hamish's words.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well, s'true," Hamish said with a shrug and a half-smile. "I fegger th' legal part's on'y a teck-nee-kalita."

Fenny rode wit her cheek against Hamish's shoulder. Her gaze was directed somewhere near Little John's forearm, but she wasn't really seeing it. She had always known that she had the means to kill a man if she had to. Sure, she'd been in plenty of fights and held her own against the men, usually fighting for her own honor or Scotland or some drunken argument. But she'd never killed before. And the way that she'd killed him...he'd died slowly, and in pain and probably panic. It was awful. Over and over she kept playing the sound in her head of a drowning man trying to breathe.

"Oi...kiddo..."

"Hmm?" Fenny raised her head slowly as Hamish shrugged his shoulder.

"Ge' on th' harse; yer putten me arrem ta sleep."

"Kay."

They stopped momentarily and Hamish watched his sister switch horses with a look of concern. She clearly wasn't dealing well with having killed a man, and who could blame her? She twitched the reigns and they set out again now at a trot. Big brother kept an eye on her the entire way home, and though she seemed to be riding fine her mind clearly wasn't on the task at hand; she'd simply ridden a horse enough to be able to do it without thinking.

"Yer troubled," Hamish said in a low voice, still keeping his eyes on Fenny but riding next to John. "Can' ken why, seein' as ya done righ' s'far. Wha' weighs on ya boyo?"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John was worried she'd fall off but he didn't dare say that to her or Hamish. The Scots were tough people. To suggest otherwise was fighting words.

He looked up at Hamish when he asked why the priest was troubled. He bit the inside of his mouth indecisively. How do you admit your fears to a Scot?

"I ah...I wonder if maybe Fenny isn't wishing she had stayed and married Will." He kept his voice low and flushed with embarrassment at the confession. "He understands her; he knows her family and he seems to really care about her. I just...wonder if she thinks it was a mistake to promise to marry me." He swallowed.

"I want her to be happy, Hamish. Even if it means she'd be someone else's wife."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish looked at Little John for a moment, then started laughing. He covered his mouth and looked away, but he couldn't help it. With great effort, he got himself under control for the most part. A few giggles forced their way out every five or ten words.

"I'm sorry boyo...I shoulna laughed...Bu' Well?" He snorted with disdain. "She ne'er had eyes fer hem. Fenny's awweys though' all 'er friens though' 'er queer, an' mos' o' 'em do. So she ne'er bothered weth turnen a eye ta enny o' em. Specially no' Well. Her an' Bridget, they use ta make a couple o' the lads play hoose weth 'em, bou' fi' years ol' er so, an' whene'er poor Well go' mexed up en et--which was mos' o' the time--Fenny'd always make hem be th' dog er peg er sommat." He chuckled again and shook his head.

"He unnerstan's 'er an' kens 'er family coz they're bes' friens. Ne'er saw one wi'oot tuther. Bu' after thess, an' the wey he's talked ta ya an' aboot ya?" Hamish shook his head. "Dunno ef Fen'd e'er talk ta hem agin e'en ef she ded stay. As fer bein' happy..." He gestured widely. "Look aroond. Hell, go back ta th' Turnbulls' farrim ef ya need ta. Do tha' look happy ta ye? Specially as somone else's wife?" He shook his head. "Y'ken wha's special boot ye, John? She had a eye fer ya." He paused to let this sink in.

"Afore ye...she ne'er had a eye fer no one. No' Well, no' no one. Hell, e'en I were starten ta thenk I weren't th' on'y one o' us as had a o'er-fondness fer the fairer sex. An' then ye came along. An' fer the ferst...I dunno, month er so she kept asken me queschins. Queschins as soond semple er stupet ta ye er me, bu' ta her t'were coz she denna ken wha' et felt like, haven eyes fer someone. Felt unnatural ta her. Bu' trus' me John...she woulna lev a day wi'oucha now, an' yer a stupet get ta thenk otherwise." Hamish punched him in the shoulder.

"An' ef ya dun blieve me, ge' off yer arse an' talk ta her. She'll tell ye yer bein stupet, too."

[EvelynWillows]

Never before had being called stupid felt so good, but coming from Hamish it had a healing touch. Little John thought about Fenny and Will, and Fenny and the men at the fair, and he guessed that Hamish had probably been right. He gave his future brother a nod and rode forward to be next to Fenny.

She still looked stricken. He was worried about that. The guilt or pain she felt was not going to go away of its own accord.

"Fenny Darlin', are you going to be alright? You did a good thing there, saving Will. I'm proud of how brave you were today."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny started as she was addressed and looked around as if she'd been jerked from some dream. Her gaze landing on Little John, she supposed it'd been he who'd spoken, but she wasn't quite sure.

"Weren't brav'ry," she said hollowly, turning again to stare ahead of her horse. "Et were hem er Well...An' I coulna e'en face hem like a man. Stabbed hem en the back o' the neck...left hem there ta droon en hes owwen blut. Denna e'en chop hes heed off fer marcy." Fenny shook her head. "Were cruelty, no' brav'ry."

Finally, at long last the tears came. Will looked back with concern at the noise. Fenny's head sunk against her horse's neck as she cried into its mane.

"Ach...God fergev me..." she begged, hugging the horse around the neck as a comfort. "Wha've I done?"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John reached over and pulled her from her horse to his, tucking her in front of him sideways like a child. He wrapped his arms around her. "Well of course you couldn't face him like a man. You're a woman, or haven't you noticed? And how cruel do you think he would have been with you when came his turn to rape you?"

He put his hand on Fenny's head and held her against his chest. "You ran out there and saved your uncle outside've Widow McKay's house. That was brave. Stupid, but brave. And you saved Will the shame of dying today."

He kissed her hair. "I love you, Fenny."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I shoulda, though," she sniffed, sobbing into his shirt. "Anehone as'd take another life had better do et like a man, face-ta-face." It felt good to be held by Little John. But still, something weighed heavy on her heart. It wasn't a question that she wanted to ask, but when he told her he loved her she knew it had to be.

"Ya sure 'boot tha'?" she sniffled. "Ya seem pretty cozy weth Kaylee the pas' couple o' days. Looken fer a proper send off, were ya?"

Fenny's tone wasn't angry but rather sad. She knew there was every possibility John was looking to take advantage of the slut if he hadn't already, and who could blame him? She was fast, loose, pretty, and had very large bosoms. It just hurt her soul so much as images flashed through her mind. The image of them kissing, of them holding hands, even a series of images she knew probably hadn't happened...yet. Also she remembered what Kaylee had said about her father and about Little John. Was any of that true?

[EvelynWillows]

"Ah..." He swallowed and rested his chin against her hair. "I don't know how to say this to you, Fenny. I'm not looking to sow any oats or get any kind of send off from the girls, and as much as I wish I could say that it's because my love for you is so strong, the truth is...it's not something I'm doing because I love you."

"I mean I do love you, but this is more than that. I'm not sayin' it right."

He kissed her temple and tried to find the words.

"I coulda had a fair time of it like Hamish if I wanted to, Fenny. There are plenty of Kaylees all over the land if you know what to look for. But I don't want that. I want to have what our Father meant for us to have; a sacred, pure love that's only for a man and his wife to share. I dun want ta cheapen it by rutting with whatever catches my fancy. I want to share this with you, and only you."

He took a shuddering breath and felt the stillness in her. "I know it's not romantic ta say this, but my love for God's what makes me faithful to our future. It's because I love Him so much that I can love you so much too."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Tears seemed to come afresh as Little John spoke and Fenny felt a stab of pain in her heart. It was almost as if he was saying he didn't love her.

"So...she do catch yer fancy. Ya would have 'er...ef ya hanna ben raised en a monastery..." She felt sick. Sick, hurt, and angry. "Las' nigh'...when Well kessed me...et weren't God as stopped me from kessen hem back. Et were ye." She took a deep, shuddering breath. She couldn't believe this conversation was happening. "Take God outta the peckture. I ken ye canna, bu' try ta pretend fer a second ya kin. Take ou' God an' take ou' e'erthen ya e'er said ta me. Johan Schnell, d'ya love me 'nough ta marry me er no'?" She finally looked up at him, but it was with tears in her eyes.

[EvelynWillows]

"What?! No, not like that Fenny. Any dog can chase a bitch in heat. It's not love. I don't love Kaylee, I love you! But you take God out'a me and I'm not a good man. You'd not like me a bit. I'm an evil man." He stared ahead, lost in thought for a long time.

As they neared the little town that the Balloch's kin were from he shifted. "I'd marry you in a heartbeat, Fenny. I dun want anyone else, but if you really knew me you'd not want me. I want you. I'd marry you today if'n it weren't for Prima Nochta."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Ya dun love 'er, butcha wan' 'er, tha' et?" Everything was crashing down around her. An evil man? Little John? How could he say that? "So yer sayen I dunno ye. Fer more'n a year ye ben hiden yer true self from me, s'tha' et?" Fenny's voice was shrill and tears were starting to spill down her cheeks. "Ye jus' pretended thess whole time coz ya wan' me? Jus' a betch en heat?" She started looking for ways off the horse, but with the way her legs were still feeling it was unadvised while the beast was still moving. She was stuck having to hear the man she loved, who she thought loved her, say these things.

Hamish had been riding behind the two. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help it as their voices carried back to them so he pretended not to hear. On the one hand he wanted to come to Little John's aid because there was clearly something he was trying to say and just couldn't find the right words. On the other, he was growing worried of the things the ex-priest was saying. One thing he did know was that he was glad Fenny was stuck on the horse; she couldn't run away. She had to hear him out.

[EvelynWillows]

"Oh dear Mary Mother of God!"

"Will you listen to what I'm saying with my heart, and not what's comin' from my damned mouth, Fenny?!" He tightened his grip around her waist. "I could'a had you that first night. You know it as well as I. If all I wanted was to have a bit o'frolickin' then we'd've had it. I don't love any woman but you. And I don't love any man, neither, so dun go gettin' ideas, ja?"

His horse cow-hopped over a small rut in the road and John's fingertips fug into Fenny's ribs. "If you don't stop acting like a hysterical child I'm going to tie you up and make you ride across my saddle all the way back to Nottingham. Just tell me that you're not really harboring feelings for yer childhood best friend, because if this is what yer cryin' over I'll have none of it. None, do you hear me?"

Little John was finding himself feeling irritated at the last few days' events and the fact that Fenny was accusing him of wanting to have sex with Kaylee. He nearly gagged at the thought.

"Look, if you put a pot o'water over a fire it'll boil. Men are like that. Put some trampy woman like Kaylee around and the men'll react, but it's not that they want to react...it's just the way we're made. So I might've reacted to her, but I dun want her. I swear to you I dun. You're the one I want, Fenny. You have to believe me on this, because I dun know how to convince ya otherwise."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Well I'm sorry Johan bu' yer mouth's the one as does the talken an' I dun unnerstand!" Tears came harder, her voice was shriller. She wanted to push Little John off the horse and gallop away. "I'm no' acten like a child! I ben haven ta watch my husban' look a' 'nother wemin an' I'm sorry that it hurts!"

Fenny's mouth worked soundlessly as he accused her of having feelings for Will. He explained men as working like a pot of water, and she herself felt anger starting to boil. Finally she found her voice.

"Well?! Ya thenk thess es aboot Well? Wha' the Hell e'er gave ya the idear I e'er wan'ned hem?! A' leas' my problem en't emagenary! Ef I wan'ned ta marry Well I'd've come back afore I e'en metcha and I'd've married hem!" She didn't care that Will was within earshot. She couldn't believe he'd accuse her of wanting him, of all people. "I dunno ef ya realize thess John bu' yer the on'y man as I e'er had eyes fer. E'er. En me whole life. Ya prolly heard as I thenk I'm too gut fer folk here coz I ne'er married any o' 'em, well there's a reason fer et! An' et's no' coz I'm some high an' mighty betch." The anger was starting to give way once again to hurt and sorrow. "So sorry ef me cryen annoys ya, Johan. Bu' en the pas' two days I ben told by folk I though' liked me as I'm too high an' mighty fer 'em jus' coz I won' marry their sons. Then fer two days I hafta watch my husban', th' on'y man as I e'er had any sorta feelens fer...react ta some drunken slut. An' now I ge' accused o' no' quite loven hem s'much as I say I do, an' meanwhile he's tellen me he's a bad man and I dunno hem a' all, an' he won' 'splain why er how thess es bu' I'm stell esspected ta marry hem anehway. So...'scuse my cryen, well ya?"

Fenny fell silent and stared ahead, weeping softly. She wanted to turn to John, to hug him and sob into his chest and wrap herself in his arms. Instead she folded her arms over her chest, sniffling every now and then.

[EvelynWillows]

"That's not kind, Fenny. I've been trying to keep my peace here with all o'your crazy kin and all et got me was bein' accused of wanting to roll around with the madchens and you getting carted off by some fool of a Turnbull. I just want to be home with you. I want to marry you, and have a house full of babes and a field to work...is that too much?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "Maybe it is too much."

"I'm not a good man, Fenny. My Da took to drinking and began ta think it was a gut idea ta lay his hands on Ma when he was frustrated. He did it alot too, she stopped going ta town fer the bruisin was too hard to cover up." He smoothed Fenny's hair back down and ran his fingers over her shoulders. "Ah...when I was aboot fourteen Da was chokin' on some bread. He wanted a drink or some help but I stood there and watched him choke. And then he got the bugger out and..." He swallowed nervously and shot a look over at Hamish, "I grabbed him, 'e was drunk, you see, so I grabbed him and shoved the rest of the bread back down into his throat so he'd die. I held it there with my own fingers until the life left his eyes."

"That winter me Ma got herself a new husband and I went to the monastery. So you see, Fenny? And that doesn't even cover the thoughts I've had. Thoughts are as bad as actions according to the Good Book, and I know, deep inside, that if'n I didn't cling to the Lord and be what's right you'd have nothin' to do with me."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Hamish didn't even bother hiding that he was listening. His mouth had gone slack and all he could do was blink at Little John. This gentle man...a killer? Well, the man was beating on them...But still, he'd lied to them all this time. Granted, for good reason. He still couldn't believe that John...Little John had killed someone apart from one of the men who'd tried to rape Fenny.

His sister, meanwhile, was going through a similar thought process. Her insides were all twisted up and she looked down, thinking. She loved this man with all her soul, and when he'd speculated that maybe children and a farm were too much to ask for she'd gone cold. Even still, knowing what he'd done, the very thought made her want to scream.

"E'erone has a past, John," she said after a long silence. Her voice shook. "An e'erone has...impure, unholy thoughts. Et's how we deal weth 'em as wha' counts. Ye've ben God's man...all these years, an' there's no' a soul as kin blame ya fer wha' ya done. I canna speak fer Hamish but I'd've done et too." She took a deep breath, still feeling sick. "Who ya were then were a desperate, beaten boy as go' hes childhood taken too young. Who ya are now es a man o' God, a good man by my eyes. I jus' need ta ken ef yer hiden anehthen else. I'll take ya atcher word...bu' I dun wan' anehmore lies. I canna build a life on lies." She bit her lip to keep tears from coming back so hard she drew blood. "An duncha e'er say as bairns an' land an' a life weth me es too much ta ask fer, Johan Schnell. S'long as I draw breath, et's ne'er too much ta ask fer." She turned to him. "Jus' tell me wha' else yer hiden."

[EvelynWillows]

"Isn't that enough, Fenny? I murdered my Da; that's plenty sin to carry around. I wanted to kill every last Turnbull around, down to the last infant, so's they wouldn't come after you. I said what was right, and I did it, but my heart wanted to burn every house down, bairns and all, ta clear the land o'their blood."

He shook his head.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Fen. I just don't want to scare you off. I was honest about Kaylee weren't I? I could'a said that I didn't feel anything when she kissed me, but I did'na." He was quiet for moment as they rounded the last bend before the town.

"I'm telling you now, Fenny. I only love you. I'm not looking to go collecting conquests right before I got married. I dun want any memories of eny one else marring what we got between us."

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Ya lied ta me abou' yer entire family, John," she pointed out numbly. "Es yer Ma stell alive? Do ya go' brothers an' sessters? Ya e'en lied 'bou' how old ya were when ya went ta th' monastery. I jus' dun wan' anehmore surprises. I dunno wha' else ya lied abou'." She sighed.

"Ya wan'ned ta kell th' Turnbulls. All o' 'em. Guess wha'? We all ded. Me too. Tha' girrel Hamish talked 'bout? Denna keer." Fenny took his face in both her hands. "Th' poin' es ya ded wha' were righ, no' whacher gut tolja. An' tha' es wha' makes ya a good man, John. Ye suffered long 'nough, love." She bent his head gently to her and kissed his forehead before letting go of his face.

"I wanna go home, Lettle John. I wanna make some mem'ries o' our owwen." She sighed and buried her face in his chest, breathing in his warm, familiar smell. Her voice was muffled when she spoke. "When we ge' home...d'ya thenk a week's 'nough o' a advance notess fer th' neighbors?"

[EvelynWillows]

Little John kept his mouth shut when she told him he had lied about his entire family. He didn't think that he'd so much lied as omitted a few details, but he knew that a lie of omission was still a lie. He wanted to protest; to explain the discrepancies, but it wasn't the point. She wanted the whole truth from him and she got less than half.

It was her question about the neighbors when they got home that undid him. He nodded against her head and let the tears and his fears flow for a few moments. She still wanted to marry him; she'd still be the mother who bore his children and sat with him on the porch, growing old and happy once their won children were grown.

"Aye, Fenny. A week's plenty of time."

He cupped her chin and brought her face up to his, kissing her on that horse and not caring if Hamish decked him or not. He began to mentally count down the days before their wedding night. He had everything he could ever want. Nothing could go wrong now.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Everything seemed somehow better with that kiss. Fenny knew that there would be more fights, more tears, more hurt feelings. It came with the territory. But he was still her Little John, and only hers, and that's what mattered. Hamish knew better than to say anything as John kissed his sister; it had been a long, tiring day. They both needed it.

Once back in the village, Fenny immediately packed away her mother's dress and the ragdolls. Nobody asked about the blood on her or Hamish; they knew what had happened. Fenny and Hamish said their goodbyes, hugging most of the people in the village. They knew if they ever came back it would very likely be a long time, if ever. Will shook Hamish's hand then he and Fenny looked at each other for a long moment before hugging tightly, thumping each other on the back. Each was upset with the other for various reasons, but in the end they were still best friends and could never hold a grudge. They never knew if they would see each other again and wished to depart with fondness in their hearts.

The ride back to Nottingham was uneventful for the most part. Hamish and Fenny were sad to no longer be breathing clean Scottish air, but it was ultimately safer for a pair of Scots on English soil than on their own. It was early September before the three were welcomed back into the warm, comforting arms of the little German hamlet after their long absence.

One of the first down the road to welcome them back was Adelaide Schneider, three years Fenny's junior, running toward them with her long, blonde curly hair bouncing out behind her. To Fenny's great surprise Hamish jumped off his horse and ran the last five feet between them to meet her, hugging her tightly and swinging her around. His sister smiled slyly and nudged Little John, inclining her head toward them knowingly.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John never found out what Uncle Argyl had done with the MacKenzie farm. They left too soon for word of him to get back to them. Thankfully he didn't see Kaylee or Marjorie either. He didn't bother to shake Will's hand as they left; he wanted to be gone as quickly as possible.

It was just shy of three hundred miles between Fenny's old village and Nottingham. With the terrain and a few back-trackings they were able to cover it in good time, though Scotland insisted on sending them off with a good three days' of bone-drenching rain. A few times they were able to avoid trouble by going off the road and waiting for the danger to pass, and one day they came upon a house burned out and smoking, and the farm animals slaughtered in the yard. There were no people about. John hoped that they got away, but he thought it was more likely they were taken. It was impossible to tell who had caused the destruction but it was easy to see who suffered.

Everyone did.

"You know," Little John said one day when they were passing another of the destroyed and abandoned farms. "There's so much pain depending on what clan you're from, or whether you're English or Scottish...Irish or French or even, like me, a Deutschman. Where are you from? Who's your kin? What race are ye? When will we look at each other and not see a Scot or English but another person?" He looked over at Fenny. "I want to be judged by who I am, not what I am."

Once they started to see more familiar territor, though, Little John became more optimistic. When they returned home he was positively smiling. He nodded his head at Fenny and watched Hamish and Adelaide's reunion. "Aye," he murmured, "looks like we all have a reason to want to get home."

The hamlet had fared well in the two months they were gone. Crops having barely sprouted in the spring not stood as tall as a man's shoulder. Stories of Robin Hood and his band's on-going conflict with the sheriff gave the town a lot of interesting tales to tell, but the most interesting was the rumors that King Richard might be returning from the crusades. Several of the men in town told them that the other rumor was that King Richard had been taken hostage and that his brother was collecting more taxes to ransom the king from his captors.

The womenfolk dismissed the rumors and concentrated on more important matters. They had a wedding to plan!

[The Lifted Lorax]

"Aye..." Fenny agreed. "An' mine's a real bed. I'm no' waiten on hem." She shook the reigns and gave him a warning look as she passed.

"Wha'?" Fenny raised an eyebrow. "D'ya always esspect the werest o' me?" Fenny didn't answer, but only rode away shaking her head.

When they arrived home, as soon as the horses were taken care of Fenny wordlessly shuffled into the bedroom and with a mighty wail flopped face first onto Little John's bed. She could be heard from the bedroom threatening to leave John for the mattress, though the pillow was trying its level best to seduce her away too.

Throughout the next week Fenny hardly had a moment to spare. If she wasn't cooking she was sewing or picking flowers or fretting about her 'something new,' which eventually became a pair of soft white shoes given to her by the cobbler's wife as an early wedding present. She was rarely able to see Little John or Hamish during the day, though even if she'd had the chance her brother was making himself scarce anyway. Amongst the cackle and gossip all day, Fenny was grateful for evening meals with the relatively quiet conversation of only two other people. She was starting to miss Little John, and even at night she was unable to sneak away and into his bed; Hamish insisted on sleeping in front of the threshold to prevent any sort of "early celebration."

When the actual day arrived, Fenny's brother actually seemed more on-edge than the bride herself. Every fifteen or twenty minutes he would pop his head into Widow Fallow's kitchen to see how everything was coming along. Eventually the good woman had to set her boys around the perimeter to physically accost the Scot whenever he got within ten paces of the house. In between pacing back and forth between the two houses, his beard was trimmed, hair cut, clothes and body scrubbed, and he helped with anything that needed helping. The normally still and slow Hamish couldn't quit fidgeting and pacing.

[EvelynWillows]

When they returned home and Fenny professed her undying love for Little John's bed he raised an eyebrow and looked over at Hamish. "That's it; she loves me for my furniture." He spent the next week maki8ng minor repairs and preparing the land for autumn planting. The wedding was coming but they also would have to eat afterwards, and he was too practical a man to get too wrapped up in the women's planning.

He took time to fell two sturdy, straight oaks and cut portions about four foot long to season in the barn. The less-than-perfect portions of the oak he set aside to dry out in the weather to use for firewood in a couple of years. Next year he was hoping to craft a bassinet from the good lengths of the oak. After waiting for nearly a year and a half to marry Fenny, another year for a child seemed like very little time to wait.

Little John busied himself tending to his hop vines and doing work on other farms to pay back the families who looked after his home while he was gone. There was a myriad of mending and preparing for the winter ahead. Though it was still months away before true winter would hit the first cool morning's heralded its imminent return. He worked Brandy to pull out snags from the forest and fill the barn with old wood. One day he came upon the place in the forest where he and Hamish had rescued Fenny and it hit him. He was twice a murderer. He sat on the forest floor and spent a long time trying to figure out why someone like him was having so many blessings heaped on his head. He felt like a liar ten times over, a fake; and he feared that it would come tumbling around his head eventually.

He finished the final load of wood late that night and walked trusty Brandy over to the Felker's ranch to turn her over to her new owners. All the way home he kept checking his pocket to make sure he hadn't lost the treasure that Brandy had provided. He couldn't sleep that last night. He stared at the wood-beamed ceilings and felt like he'd die before the sun rose.

The day arrived. John had risen before the sun and bathed, combing his hair and trimming his still-unfamiliar beard as he tried to get out of the house before the women arrived. When they did and spirited Fenny off to Widow Fallow's house he could finally breath. He put his hand in his pocket and rolled his fingers over its contents. The walk to the church was long; each step was harder and harder to take. Several of the men spirited him away, and try as he might he couldn't catch a glimpse of Hamish. Finally he was locked away in a room so he wouldn't get cold feet and the women warned him against looking at Fenny's dress or trying to catch a glimpse of her before she walked down the isle. He nodded mutely and thought he'd faint from the anxiety of the day.

It would have been nice to have had some of the Scot's famous barley whiskey about then.

He stuck his hand back in his pocket. Still there.

[The Lifted Lorax]

"I need a drenk!"

Fenny was about as still as her brother in the good widow's kitchen. She was slumped over in a kitchen chair in her dress, staring out the window as she watched a group of men leave her house. Mari Fallow smacked her hand away as she started to play with her hair absently; she'd been working so hard all morning to detangle it and make it look presentable. It had been washed earlier that morning with a mixture of egg whites and oil and, now that it was dry and untangled when the sun caught her hair it shone as though it were on fire. Much to Mari's dismay the curls couldn't be straightened out and so she was stuck having to pull Fenny's hair back from her face using other methods.

"You vill be fine, liebchen, just fine," she cooed soothingly. She then made a noise of frustration and gave up on the hair, leaving Fenny to tuck it behind her ears.

"Bu'...wha' ef he changes his mind?" She turned in her seat. "Wha' ef he's run off??" Her voice was shrill and her eyes wide with panic at the thought. Mrs. Fallow gently put her hands on the nervous bride's head to face her forward again.

"Our Johan vould not run off, ja?" she said gently, placing a crown of forget-me-nots (http://ts1.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=4511215352612460&id=6363ad115a3698a6c6d8435ed7debbc3) carefully on her head. Something blue. "He luffs you ferry much, und you make hem sooo heppy." To the flower crown she pinned the veil she'd worn at her own wedding. Something borrowed. Fenny ticked them off in her head.

"Ya go' any scotch er sommat?" Fenny raised a shaking hand to her face and passed it over her eyes nervously before standing and heading toward the cupboards. Widow Fallow had to chase her across the kitchen and steer her back to the chair, pushing her gently back into the chair by her shoulders so she could put the finishing touches on everything that might have to do with the girl's head.

"You vould rather remember your vedding, ja?"

"Ja...er...aye..." She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Needing something to do with her hands, she smoothed out her dress nervously. Something old.

"Hamish is back!" Adelaide (http://caligaortus.com/img/Elisabeth-Harnois.jpg) turned from the window and looked to the widow for instructions. "He looks...nice..." She pinkened briefly and glanced at Fenny for a fraction of a second before returning her gaze to the older woman.

Fenny considered the girl for a moment. She was sweet, pretty, young...it was about time they had a blonde in the family. She supposed she would see in time what made her so very special, though she wouldn't expect it any time soon. Hamish still saw a need to sneak off; it would be a while yet before he worked up the courage to tell his sister he had a sweetheart, a proper one. In the meantime she kept her silence.

"I think things are ready." The widow nodded to Adelaide, who opened the door and walked out to meet Hamish. They hugged briefly and she accompanied them to the door, warding off the young boys trying to go about their duty.

"Ya ready?" Hamish asked softly as he stepped into the kitchen. Fenny looked terrified.

"No..." She slipped her feet into the soft leather shoes near the chair. Something new.

Taking Hamish's arm Fenny walked with him to the church. She clutched his hand tightly all the way there. Church hadn't been this far before, had it? Had they moved the church? Surely they must have. Every step felt like lead to her shaking legs and Hamish had to support her.

"I love ya Hamish, ya ken tha'...righ'?"

"Yer no' goen off ta die, selly girrel." Hamish smiled and kissed her temple. In truth he was just as nervous to give her away as she was to be given away, but it wasn't constructive to tell her that now. "Ya look beau'iful, Fen."

At long last they stood in front of the church doors. The siblings Balloch looked at each other and in unison took a deep breath. When they came out of that church they would be the siblings Balloch no more. Hamish squeezed his sister's hand before reaching out to pull open the church door.

[EvelynWillows]

As the doors opened something happened that no one had warned the Balloch's about.

Angus McNei (http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2009/10/16/1255707059021/Bagpipe-player-001.jpg)l from the neighboring hamlet had traveled over to the church, and he stood there in his full family tartan and tam, and holding his beloved bagpipes under his arm. He began to play the traditional marriage song of joining as Hamish and Fenny walked it.

Everyone in the church (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/53/Inside_St_Mary%27s_Old_Church.jpg) turned to look at Fenny as she walked down the isle. Everyone except Little John. He stood there in his wedding best (http://i1201.photobucket.com/albums/bb353/EvelynWillows/natural-flax-linen-medieval-fantasy-garb-tunic.jpg) and tried to keep his knees from buckling as the sound of women gasping and whispering how lovely Fenny was floated up to him. He wanted to see her. To know if there was a smile of happiness or the look of fear in her eyes.

Maybe she had come to her senses and wanted to run away but felt like she couldn't. Maybe there were tears of disappointment, not happiness, on her face.

He couldn't bear it any longer. He turned and looked down the isle. He didn't care what the women said about bad luck and all that shi-ite. She was going to be his wife. He had to know.

Fenny was gone. In her place an angelic beauty was walking down the isle on Hamish's arm. Little John fought hard to not let his knees buckle as his head started to spin. It would not make Fenny happy if her groom were to faint before they got married.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny jumped as the first sharp notes of the bagpipe filled the church, then covered her mouth as she laughed in delight. Hamish had started too, and couldn't help but laugh when he saw the Scotsman they didn't know standing by on his pipes. It was very thoughtful. After the initial shock he took the first step forward, his heart thundering as he lead his sister on his arm. He knew she was feeling a bit wobbly but he wasn't certain how steadily he could lead her himself. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he'd still be here, she'd still need him, and that Johan Schnell was a good man.

As everyone turned to look at her Fenny flushed and grinned in embarrassment, lowering her face for a moment. When she looked back up her face wasn't as red but her eyes brimmed with tears. She couldn't decide if she wanted Little John to turn around or not, but soon the choice was made for her. The look on his face made her want to run to him, traditions be damned, and pull him into a kiss. Even if she could have, though, her ankles thought it a good time to get wobbly and she staggered a step in the unfamiliar shoes. Hamish held her steady on his strong arm and patted her hand gently.

"Steady on, lass. Almost there," he murmured to her, smiling. He'd never seen his sister so happy and couldn't help but grin at her expression.

Finally, at long last, they reached the head of the aisle and Hamish kissed the bride's forehead gently before handing her off to Little John. As he passed to take his position, he muttered in John's ear,

"Kep a hold o' 'er, she feels boot ready ta keel o'er." He grinned at Fenny from behind Little John as the last notes of the bagpipe echoed through the church.

Fenny had managed to clear the tears from her eyes for now, but the grin was still plastered to her face. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quit smiling. She was certain she looked insane rather than beautiful, but it didn't matter. This was it. This was her wedding day and it was more wonderful than she'd ever dared to imagine.

[EvelynWillows]

Little John's face flashed pale for a minute. He felt ready to keel over as well, but as he took Fenny's hands the world steadied and his heart started to beat again. He smiled at her. It looked like Fenny, but he couldn't be sure. he wanted to lift up that veil and make sure that it wasn't a swapped bride, like Jakob's Rachel and Leah. For a moment he almost panicked.

The friar's voice brought him back to reality. "Johan and Fenella, you come here voluntarily with hearts prepared, to receive each other in marriage? To love each other, respect, and be loyal to one another until death separates you? And are you ready to fulfill your obligation to raise your children in the arms of the Lord?" He looked at them both.

Little John licked his lips and looked over at Fenny. "Ja, Vater. I mean yea, yes. I do... I will." He clamped his mouth shut. He had a momentary flash of seeing her running out of the church. He swallowed again and looked at her smiling eyes.

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny looked down and couldn't help but giggle. She didn't mean to laugh at Little John, but it was cute how nervous he was. She was glad it wasn't just her. Her legs were a bit stronger beneath her as he held her hands and he seemed to be all at once the only thing keeping her up and the only thing keeping her feet on the ground.

"Aye, I do. Wi' all my heart." She raised her eyes back up and smiled at him. We're arrigh, she thought hard at him, wishing he could read her thoughts. We're okay. Thess es et.

Fenny swallowed hard, trying to keep her mouth from getting dry. It had been all she could do to muster those words in a voice loud enough to be audible. Her heart raced, threatening to leap into her throat and out of her mouth any second. She just wanted him to skip to the man and wife bit.

[EvelynWillows]

The friar smiled at the two. No matter how many weddings he had conducted it was always wondrous to see two lives coming together as one.

"If you have vows to declare, now is the time to do so."

Little John turned to face Fenny more completely. "Fenny, I...I promise to be loyal to you in good and bad days, in health and illness, to love and respect you, until death separates us, and even after if it's allowed. I love you with all my heart, and I want you to be my wife."

He looked at her for a moment then dug around in his pocket until he came up with a small item wrapped in cloth. He nervously unwrapped it and then took Fenny's left hand and slipped a ring (http://i1201.photobucket.com/albums/bb353/EvelynWillows/Fennysring.jpg) over her third finger, the heart finger. It was three golden bands hinged together to form one. When you pulled them apart, two hands clasped a red garnet heart, and in the center of the heart was a little diamond tri-star. He brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them.

"If you'll have me, Fenella, I want to be your husband."

[The Lifted Lorax]

Fenny's eyes were enormous and round as he slipped a ring over her finger. Where had he gotten this? What had he had to sell? Nevermind that now...

"John..." she breathed, still staring at it. She looked up, mouth agape as he kissed her fingertips. It was all she could do to keep herself from flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him through the veil. Finally she found her voice again though it wasn't as sturdy as she'd have liked. She didn't like the whole church hearing her choked with tears.

"John...I promess I'll be loyal ta ye, ta love ye an' cheresh ye, ta hold ye en my heart through..." She had to swallow hard to continue. "Through wealth an' poverty, sickness an' health, fer better er worse tell th' end o' our days an' then some."

She'd practiced this part, all of this, but it wasn't going as planned. She forgot what she'd thought up before, what had been bouncing around in her head since they left Scotland, and started making it up as she went, saying what was in her heart. "Johan Schnell all I wanna do fer the rest o' me life es be yer wife ef ye'll have me."

It was over. She couldn't say anymore even if she'd wanted to. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks and she'd lost her ability to speak coherently.

Man and wife! Just say man and wife!