Gifted

Laird

Being in love was both torture and bliss. Magnus had never been happier but had also never been more terrified. Every moment he spent with Alina was shadowed by the knowledge that something or someone was coming to take her away from him. Every time he told her "I love you," a pang in his chest warned him that, soon, she might not be around to say it back. She would be gone. But his heart would never stop declaring itself for her.

He hoarded memories of their time together: every kiss, every meal, every shared dream, every night making love, every morning watching her take a half hour to come to wakefulness. Even their time apart was precious. He treasured the idea of her poring over her texts or mixing potions in her workroom or even running around the village trying to fix everyone's problems. He couldn't fathom that her light might be gone from the world. He hated that he didn't know what threatened her.

She'd allowed him access to her memory of the vision twice more and her memories were murkier each time. Still, he might have figured something new from revisiting the vision: it has to happen in a warmer season because there was no indication of a fire. No crackling sounds. No sense of heat along one side of her face and body. No smell of smoke. If he was holding his dying wife in his arms, knowing how sensitive she's been to cold, he'd have kept her close to a fire if it were winter. But if it were summer, even Alina might not have need of it.

This allayed his worry enough that he only insisted on a guard if Alina was out of the castle, which admittedly was nearly every day. Most of the time, he himself accompanied her to the village. Today, they were on separate errands there. He dropped her off at Orla's to check on Ainsley's pregnancy. Then he headed to the blacksmith's to monitor progress on Alina's Christmas present. He'd commissioned a copper tub big enough for her to recline in, big enough for them to share a bath if she were so inclined.

At the forge, he was unsurprised to find Bean. This past week, he couldn't turn around without finding himself in the bard's company. He had to admit that the man was an invaluable resource for understanding the intricacies of being a lowland laird. Only Lady Lillian could match his deft hand at managing the nobles of the area.

The twelve days of Christmas was a prime example. The lady and the bard orchestrated holiday celebrations that masked her efforts at local diplomacy. Each bordering clan's ruling family were invited guests at Kerr Castle for four days each: the Campbells for Christmas, the Boyds for the new year and the feast of fools, and the MacLellans for twelfth night and epiphany. Overlaps between their guests could mean disaster but they somehow managed to avoid it every year. At home, Magnus usually spent the holidays listening to his father lay out plans for their spring battle campaigns. But Lady Lillian fought her battles on a different field altogether and it happened year round.

"Ah, Laird Sinclair," called out Bean in his flawless diction. "The tub will be complete in two days' time. It can be brought up to the castle on Christmas Eve with your lady none the wiser about her gift."

Magnus nodded and proceeded to speak with the blacksmith himself. He'd set up one of his young soldiers to serve as the new apprentice here and sought an update on how they were getting on. Since his men might not see much fighting in this glen, he had to find other ways for them to contribute to the community. He'd offered Fergus another Sinclair soldier, a homely one, to help him in the bakery.

Bean and Magnus left the forge together. Several villagers greeted them as they walked through the square.

"The people here are pleased with ye as their new laird," Bean commented.

"Hm," was the reply from Magnus.

"Your wife is determined that we are to become friends," continued Bean undeterred. "We complement each other so well. I love to talk while you tend to respond in grunts and single syllables. You're a high-born highlander. I was born an Edinburgh gutter rat and a dwarf to boot. You're practically a giant. You're a blonde. I'm a brunette."