After being revived by his foster father, Diarmuid learns of his treasonous acts and decides to leave Hibernia for sure. Still longing to be a knight, he learns of a certain king that is willing to accept any kind of Knight. Camelot is quite the jou...
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Breaking twigs and scratching her legs with branches, she kept on mumbling things under her breath. It was densely dark that she was barely able to see a couple of feet ahead of herself. The sky lacked the moon for the night and only the stars could light as best they could.
"I saw no need in disposing of the horse." She hissed.
Her feet ached and she was sure she would soon get blisters if they did not stop for even a short while. Her heart was beating crazily between her rib cage and she was panting loudly. "Diarmuid," she called as she was following him through the thick forest. "Why did we get rid of the horse." It was more of a statement and not a question.
"We needed to let Aoife go. She has given us more time to escape. Come on darling, you must surely understand," Diarmuid replied as he continued to run past the many trees.
Gráinne grunted and continued to follow him, it was tiring and she was not as swift on her feet as he was. "This is ridiculous, what kind of princess runs in the shadows like this?" The mumble was low so he could not hear her. "I cannot go any further," she explained and she stopped next to a tree to rest. She leaned on it, catching her breath and clutching her side.
Diarmuid stopped in his tracks as he turned to her and let out a soft sigh. "If you love me so, we must keep running. Fionn will be able to find us if we do not hurry."
"Yes, but they have horses and we do not—because someone let our horse run away!" She grunted.
"Darling," his tone demonstrated understanding and compassion, "I know that you are exhausted but we must keep moving," he mumbled and took her small delicate hand in his own. "Let us keep moving."
"But I cannot take another step," she whined. "My feet."
Diarmuid bit his bottom lip and wiped the sweat from his brow. He stood still for a moment and then turned his back to her. "Get on," he insisted. She obeyed and hoisted her up onto his back. He loved her—or so he thought—and he did not want to let her go.
The peculiar thought was that they had only met that afternoon, but with the second sentence she spoke, his heart has swelled in his chest and he nearly burst with love for her. How cruel was their fate that she was to wed Fionn; his liege and uncle. Now, Fionn was in pursuit of them, ready to take their lives at any second for their misconduct and betrayal.
How had he even come to the decision of running away with her? That he surely did not know. There must have been a demon inside of him to coerce him to make that decision. He would never betray his master, not even for something so trivial as love, so how was it that this was any exception? That she was any exception?
