An Unexpected Destiny (Completed)

Don't Look Back

The log bench quivers under my jigging leg.  I have not been able to keep the nervousness at bay since he walked in there.  Since I convinced them that I could be trusted.  Ever since Robin had walked into the yellow house to speak with my "brother", Alistair. 

MacLeod sits beside me, quietly smoking a pipe. I stare at my hands, dirty fingernails, and scuffed boots-- Merida's boots.  Robin, it was obvious, is not a very diplomatic person.  MacLeod was the diplomat while Robin was the angry and withdrawn leader.  An angry and withdrawn leader who was seeking approval from my "brother" to accompany me.  I worry the ends of my braid.

This was the last obstacle to restarting my journey-- I wanted it to be torn down quickly.  To put it simply, Robin and MacLeod had all but frantically dived for that carrot.  I had been a little shocked, truthfully.  Both were not men who leaped before they looked; they must be desperate. Then again, what did I really know about people?

"Hurry, please."  I mutter, eyeing the low sun.  Long shadows stretch across the young grass and the sun's eye peek through the branches.  I want to get in and get out.  The longer we delay the farther that witch got and that meant the longer I did not have Merida and Dunbroch.  And the longer we stayed here, the more anxious I was to part from Alistair.   The heart squeezed itself in a painful ball: I was going to develop panic attacks if I didn't get a hold of myself.

"Here lassie," MacLeod says and sets a piece of rope in my lap.  I stare.  "Tie knots in and out of it, my lady, it will help with the nerves."  I nod and do as he suggests, my hands slowing when the mind occupies itself with the beauty surrounding me and quickening when it spirals into panicked and frightening thoughts.  Additionally, the frustration over the realization of how my tight leash on the emotions was eroding freaked me out.  I hated losing control, which was incredibly ironic because I haven't actually been in control of really anything for weeks.  I twist the rope and pull-hard.  The rope makes a quiet snap and I knot it again, this time pulling even harder.  MacLeod, I see from the corner of my eye, stops puffing and watches me quizzically.  I am thinking the same thing he is:

What the hell is wrong with me?

My shoulders, which had been up to my ears and hard with tension, drop heavily.  My hands stop knotting, suddenly tired.  I glance at MacLeod; he sets to puffing again.  Slowly, I unknot the mass of rope.  I knew what was wrong with me: I'm changing.  I am going from the withdrawn, cold bookworm to a caring and awakened being.  The emotions swirling inside scared the dickens out of my closed heart while also melting it; and my fenced off mind was shrieking with joy and terror at the sensation of having to make space for thoughts  and concerns other than my own. Like the rope, I am a mess.  Finding Merida and returning to Dunbroch was the key to unknotting myself.

Soon after I force myself to take deep breathes and knot the rope calmly, the door opens. I scramble to a stand, clutching the rope to my chest. Robin stands in the doorway, looking over my head the tavern's roof.  His expressions is unreadable.  I hold my breath.

Then-- "We leave at dawn." --with a flash of dark eyes and stiff steps.  We watch him leave, breathless.  The air is quiet; even nature is aware of the big step.  MacLeod shakes his head and yanks his pipe out before stabbing it back into his mouth, only to pull it out once more.  He faces me.  

"Well, there you go, Lady Agnes.  Maybe we'll both get what we want."  The tone is serious, but there is an undercurrent of excitement.  They have been waiting a long time for this opportunity. 

Then, I dash into the house, the rope forgotten in the grass.  

Alistair looks exhausted.  I doubt I look any better.  He breathes slowly, the fur blanket gently rising and lowering with each breath.  There are dark circles under his eyes.  Had I not seen him just this morning, assuring me he is fine?  What happened?  My thoughts immediately turn to Robin.  Cold, bitter Robin.  My eyes twitch.  Undoubtedly, Robin had said some rude, if not rude then insensitive, things.  Alistair was too soft-hearted to deal with such a jerk.  A jerk I had bargained to travel with myself and leave Alistair alone.  I angrily shove this thought out of my mind.  I am about to march out there, leaving Alistair to sleep and demand of Robin what had transpired between them, when I hear a rustle.  Alistair's eyes have opened and he is sitting up.  Grimacing.