(ON HOLD) Hidden in the Highlander's keep

[#1] Lone Lamb Among Wolves

Lady McAllistar will come one day

Sneak in and find a way

To change your family, friends and home

And slowly make it all her own

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Lorelei was tredging up the long hill through the raging storm, panting, reeling and shivering. The rain was coming down so hard and in such loads that it created a thick wall. It and the darkness combined made navigation by eye almost impossible. Her only source of light and companion being the full moon above her. She had been walking for miles and wished to succumb to the exhaustion coursing throughout her body. Her feet ached with every step and her back arched in a spasm of shivering every time a lone, cold drop found a way under her collar, and travelled down her back. But she kept going. The cold seeping through her dragged her down even more, especially with her leg. Her thigh burned in agony, pain like a wild dog bit her with every step, while she barely felt anything down her knee, except for the cold. She was limping heavily and cursing under her breath.

Two years of wandering, unintentional fasting and bearing all the damnations of this world, and she couldn't really count how many nights she had been under a roof or in warm bed. She didn't remember the last time she didn't have to sleep with one eye open. How many nights had it been since she slept properly? Six. Maybe four, if she didn't count the fact that she might have miscounted the length of some days.

She got on top of a hill. The rain let go for a while, allowing her to see a great castle. A keep. Maybe somebody's awake. Maybe they won't yell at her to get away. Maybe they won't unleash the hounds. She found a tiny light of hope and determination deep in herself, ignored the pain, and took a rapid step forward...

*****

She didn't know how long she was unconscious.

The rain let go for good. Now water was just drizzling from the sky. But there were growls far away, and it looked like a cumulonimbus was heading in her direction, with all the attractions of a thunderstorm.

Slowly, gingerly and painfully, she got up off the ground. She looked around, trying to find herself in the surroundings. The first thing she found was the hill where she was standing before, and a distinct trail of mud that marked her fall. She looked down at her own figure. Her front was all covered in mud. She couldn't see it, but she felt how the dirt on her face is washed by the drizzle and runs down her collarbone, under her coat. She located the keep and started marching towards it, climbing the hill. Her leg was killing her now, she felt dizzyness in her head, she was stumbling repeatedly and she could already feel bruises forming on her body. But she kept going.

She arrived to a great front gate. She moved her hand around it, looking for a knocker. The texture she felt under her hand was different than before. Not knowing the time of day, she hoped someone would hear her as she banged on the door with the little amount of energy she had left.

But there was only silence.

She turned around and tried to stop the tears she could already feel forming. And she turned all the hopelessness into anger. If she couldn't find a sympathizing soul, she'll at least steal something to eat. Life taught her much.

Heaving a sigh, Lorelei leaned against the door frame when it started to push her back. She jumped away and stood still. Some people had crossbows in their keeps, and crossbows didn't like rapid movements this late. What she saw instead, was a man. A large, red-haired man with his hand ready on a large claymore. His dark green coat was a bit open on the front, revealing a white shirt and a kilt. She knew which clan beared these colors. The McKain plaid, remarked Lorelei. The man came out, staring at her searchingly. Some kind of a mumble, unclear words, came from inside the keep.

"A lad," Said the man, barely turning his head away from her.

"Let him in," The voice was clear now.

The large man moved, still not letting go of the sword. She slipped past him into the keep, where another man was at the ready. He was a lot thinner than the one behind her, but still well-built, and she knew that both he and the other man could cut her like a fillet. She was definetely not wrong about that. The man had been holding a crossbow, apparently ready to take a shot at whatever could come in. He got up from his knees and stopped aiming the crossbow at the door. Like one seven foot, stout man wasn't enough, mused Lorelei. The man's face flexed, moving the massive dark mustache vigorously. He had his dark hair tied up in a pigtail with a black ribbon. He looked around his 40s, and when Lorelei caught his gaze with her eyes, she started panicking. She has seen those eyes before. He waved his hand at her as a sign to follow him.

As she stumbled into the keep, she noticed she was in the hall. The roof stretched far above her and the candles lit the room perfectly, allowing Lorelei to view the entire room. To her right, stairs led to the second and third floor. The large windows magnificently showed the raging storm. A large fireplace to her left surrounded by a few chairs kept the room warm. The tables were clustered together in a U shape where people were settled down, ready for supper. Then looking up, she stared into the eyes of the McKain.

Douggal McKain stoically sat in his chair at the head table, expressing nothing to Lorelei. The old Laird had a place next to his sons and his daughter. Lorelei quickly scanned the crowd. Everyone was staring at the unexpected visitor. Lorelei stood frozen in her spot, staring at the Laird. He seemed to be saying something as the large man that let her in closed the door with a loud slam, causing her to jump a bit.

"Try to listen carefully now. What are the news?" The Laird asked with an unpatient tone in his voice.

Lorelei caught another look in his eyes, and she was sure now. How I fell, how terribly I fell, she thought. She started hoping they would throw her out.

Limping forward, Lorelei watched the face of the Laird, not focusing on anybody else. She wondered how she was going to answer without giving herself away or fainting from exhaustion. As she stood before the Laird, she realized how much a dry throat interrupts in forming a sentence.

**********

Episodes [#1] and [#2] released together. Proceed to the next one!

Feel free to comment, we will gladly respond. :)

Visolix and annnoe, signing off.