Escaping the War (Sequel to Pardoned on the Peak)

Two

As lost as if he’d been stumbling through the Woods without being able to at least use the Starsta guide his way, Jamie could only watch and listen in stupefied surprise. What surprised him more than even this woman’s sudden appearance just as their lil meeting was coming to an End wasn’t even Tiernan’s response–it was the mixture of confusion and surprise on the face of his Elvin father-in-law. He looked like he didn’t recognize this woman any more than the rest of them did, but as if the name the oldest Elf’d uttered jogged a memory for him or something.

        Said woman bore features that were strikingly regal, yet seemingly hardened by battle like a lotta Celtic men seemed to have after a Lifetime of fighting various Wars. However, the thing he noticed was that she’d surprisingly green eyes–the same ones he saw every Time he looked his ginger wife in the eye. On top of that, she’d hair that was just as black as his Elvin mother-in-law did–it looked like a Raven’s wing flowing down her back, or like a piece of the Stone kent as Obsidian.

        But the thing about her appearance that finally made the ginger man realize just who she was was how she happened to be dressed at the moment. Perfectly suitable to a fairly cold climate, her clothing reminded him of paintings he’d seen of Ancient Viking Warriors that’d landed on and raided the British Isles in Centuries past. He then recalled what Róisín’d once told him about her grandmother being Norwegian, and that was the moment he’d an Epiphany of his own. Were he to judge by Tiernan’s and Lachlan’s reactions, this was undoubtedly his ginger wife’s grandmother–but the part that didn’t make senseta him was that he’d been told this woman was dead, and had been for Centuries.

        “Hvordan gjøre du komme til være her? Jeg trodde jeg aldri ville se deg igjen,” said oldest Elf breathed, gently cupping her cheek in one massive hand.

        “Du visste at jeg ville kom tilbake til slutt,” the unidentified woman responded, her head tilting into the touch. “Det var ikke meningen at jeg skulle tjene under min far for alltid.”

        Part of Tiernan seemed to relax at whatever she told him, but another part still seemed tense, as if he expected to wake up from a fantastic Dream and find it hadn’t been real at any moment. “Er du her for godt, da?”

        “For resten av Evigheten,” the woman assured him.

        “Da må vi få dere til å snakke Engelsk–og helst Gàidhlig også,” he said, most of them only able to pick a lone word outta all he said that Time. “De fleste her snakker Engelsk, men det nest mest vanlige språket er Skottenes.”

        She simply nodded, a hand on the back of his neck pulling him down from his exceptional height till their foreheads were pressed together.

        Jamie still kept the younger of his present sons pushed mostly behind him as the pair started to glitter the way all Elvin beings did when putting their magick to use, but he could still feel the boy peeking out. After a few short moments, that glittering subsided so they looked no different than they had before, and it was then that they turned to face everyone else. Only the Elf he considered the Elvin patriarch dared to approach them, an expression that seemed to be a cross between stern and welcoming written all over his features.

        “I never thought I’d see the Day that I’d get to meet me mother-in-law fer meself, ken,” Lachlan said, gently taking her fingers and lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles.

        “Moth– Our daughter–?” The woman turned a gobsmacked look up at the oldest Elf.

        “Aye, Saoirse went on to wed in her own right,” he told her, nodding. “And this’d be the man she eloped wi’ after allowing me to believe her ship was forced to dock in Scotland fer repairs on her way to find you, me love.”