Heart of Glass

Trust

Angus grumbled as the morning dew set a wetness within his bones. He should be in the castle, warm and cozy. But no,...he was outside, moving throughout the night trampling all over for Murtagh's scottish ass. All for what? A simple lassie's trust because he took what,...pity on her? He couldn't explain why she was so pleasant to talk to, or why he cared why she couldn't sleep. All he knew was that their little walk had formed a bond between them, even if it was a small one. Angus scratched his beard in thought as he walked on. They had hated each other from the beginning. It was insane how one little night could change that. He wasn't even drawn to her like he was with any other woman he set his eyes upon. He didn't want to bed her,...no,...he wanted to protect her.
Angus climbed the side of the steep hill. He swore this was the only place he hadn't looked for the miserable bastard, beside Cranesmuir, though he knew Murtagh wouldn't be there. Murtagh hated the place. It was also interesting how much you could pick up about someone by simply being around them. Once again, he didn't really get along well with Murtagh, nor did Rupert. Though there was still a brotherly bond between them,...they would have each others' back in the heat of battle. Murtagh was all too stoic and serious to get along well with the immature duo. He was the mature one, though he sometimes let himself have a laugh with them.
The hill started to even out as he reached towards the top. He looked to the side, taking in the view. You had a perfect view of Leoch and Cranesmuir from here. Angus couldn't lie, it was beautiful. Looking ahead, his face deepened in a scowl. You had to be kidding him. A lump of plaid laid at the foot of a tree, a lump of Fraser plaid. There Murtagh laid, sound asleep as if he were a wee bairn. He disappeared without a word,...TO SLEEP?!?! Angus could kill him. His speed increased as he drew closer. Coming to his side, Angus brought back his foot. The front of his boot connected to Murtagh's side with a loud whack, causing him to groan in pain.
"OI!!" Angus yelled. "Get up, ye lazy inconsiderate bampot!"
Murtagh was on his feet within a second, anger burning brightly within his eyes. His temper proved to be short as ever, and Angus' annoying face was not one he had wanted to ever wake up to, nor his foot going through him.
"What the BLOODY HELL is wrong wi' ye!? Have ye gone mad?" Murtagh snapped instantly.
"What's wrong wi' me, ye say? How bout' ye take a look at yerself!" Angus retorted.
"And what the hell d'ye mean by tha'? Christ,..I oughtta roast yer skin o'er the spit o' a fire." Murtagh's voice came out threateningly.
God did he truly hate the wee scot sometimes,...or rather most of the time. Angus could be a real pain in the ass.
Angus shook his head. Wiping his arm across his face in frustration, he turned on Murtagh.
"Ye know,...tis a real shame tha' ye dinna ken what I mean." He pointed a finger in his face.
"You disappear without a word and here I come, finding you up here slumberin' away like a bear."
Murtagh smacked Angus' hand away from his face.
"I wasna aware tha' I had te tell someone my every move. I am a grown man, and I dinna need babysittin'." his tone was laced with sarcasm and venom.
"You should be ashamed of yerself, ye miserable dolt. Ye kept tha' lass a worryin about ye. The poor wee thing got no sleep last night, I reckon. Ye know,...tha' bonny red headed lass?" Angus pushed, going on into a full babble.
Murtagh's face dropped when Alana crossed his mind. Christ, she was probably furious with him by now. Goddamn his stupidity. The previous night's thoughts came back to him, and he then remembered why he cared so much. He sighed, the anger leaving his body as fast as it appeared. Turning his attention back to Angus, he held his hand out in front of him as a gesture.
"Will ye shut yer gob fer a minute?" he paused, waiting to have Angus' attention. "Did ye talk te the lass? W...what did she tell ye? And I swear...if I find out tha' ye handled her too roughly..."
Angus stared at him, a stupid smile crossing his face.
"Ooooohhh,....so ye do care for the wee lassie. I wasna aware tha' ye had a heart under all those cobwebs around ye." his sarcasm earned him a dreadful glare. "Fine. Aye,...the lass did speak to me. And the only reason why I touched her is cause the lass went and tripped o'er me. I passed out in the corridor on the floor. She scared the absolute shit outta me! With nothin' but a wee candle te guide her, she had her heart set upon takin' a late walk throughout the castle grounds." Angus told him.
Murtagh's eyebrows shot upwards.
"A walk? At tha' time o' night? With every drunken MacKenzie man lurkin' around? Is the lass daft?" He exclaimed, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.
"Aye,...tis what I thought,...so tha's why I joined her." Angus paused and took a breath.
"The lass took a wee break from tryin' te kill me and...well,...opened up a bit."
Murtagh stared at him, a curious look now painted upon his face.
"Go on, then." he said slowly.
"The lass couldna sleep cause she was a worryin' herself bout' you...ye ken, since ye left her without a word. You were the only concern o' tha lass. She feared tha' she upset ya by askin' ye to dance wi' her." Angus said, a smirk crossing his face.
Murtagh froze, his face flushing instantly. Angus let out a laugh.
"Oh, aye. I ken bout' tha' wee jig ye pulled last night. I couldna believe me eyes at first. The verra sight even made me cut off me drinkin' fer the night."
Frowning slightly, Murtagh swiftly regained his composure. Bending down to pick up his sword, his let out a Scottish grunt of dismissal.
"Yer point is?" He asked, his voice in the tone of mock boredom.
"The lassie cares bout' ye, you doaty bastard." Angus deadpanned.
Murtagh shrugged.
"Weel, she shouldna.Tis her own problem."
It kind of stung a bit to say. He hadn't a choice though. As shameful as it was, his damned pride wouldn't allow his true feelings to be outwardly known.
Angus simply stared at him, completely dumbfounded.
"Are ye daft, man? Now, I ken tha' I didna search through the night, jes fer ye te say some shite like that's! I think he need yer head checked! Perhaps ye need a visit te Mistress Beauchamp, iffen ye will no see Miss Irvine." He was on the verge of snapping, something that surprised himself.
" I dinna like lasses. I hae no desire te find one either. Tha' time has long passed." Murtagh said plainly, now standing straight with his sword secured around his waist.
"They're dramatic and sensitive, and emotional, and dinna ken what's good fer em'! They're only a hindrance to me." He started to walk away.
Angus' face twisted to show agitation. He lost it on the spot, his own temper taking over.
"Ye're jes scairt tha' you'll screw this up like ye did wi' Ellen Mackenzie! Tis yer own fault tha' ye lost tha' lass. No wonder she didna wish te marry ye. Now, ye get rejected once and then ye jes give up forever! It'll be yer own doin' iffen ye die a lonely man. Ye're a coward!" The last sentence had barely a chance to leave Angus's mouth before Murtagh's solid fist connected with his jaw.
Angus stumbled backwards, his hand holding his chin. A long line of Gaelic swears reached the air as the pain slowly ebbed away. Turning sharply, Angus returned the favor by lunging at Murtagh and tackling him to the ground. They roughed it up in a struggling mess. Angus drew back his arm and served a blow to Murtagh's ribs, satisfied with the the groan of pain that sounded within the man's throat.
Expertly wiggling and twisting his body, Murtagh managed to kick Angus off of him, the small Scot's body landing next to him with a solid thump. In a flash, Murtagh rolled over and trapped Angus underneath him. No matter how much Angus squirmed to regain his freedom, he couldn't escape the Fraser's firm grasp.
A searing pain rushed through him and Murtagh delivered another punch to his face. It would certainly bruise this time around, not to mention Murtagh's knuckles as well. Angus held his breath when the cold iron blade of Murtagh's dirk pressed against his throat threateningly.
"Whatever ye think happened between Ellen Mackenzie and I,....I assure ye...tis none o' yer business. Keep yer nose out o' things ye dinna understand." Murtagh's voice came out in a low growl.
He took a deep breath, realizing that he had completely lost his calm demeanor.
They both breathed heavily. Angus was having more difficulty catching his breath, due to the presence of another's knee firmly pressed upon his narrow chest.
" I dinna care...what happened...between ye two.....I dinna even ken...what it exactly was..." he managed to gasp out.
He was soon thankful when Murtagh lessened the pressure he held on him.
"I only ken the basic details. What I'm tryin' te tell ye....is tha' Miss Irvine isna Ellen,...ye ken?"
Murtagh then stood up, freeing Angus from his hold. Concealing his dirk, he fixated his eyes to Angus thoughtfully.
"What d'ye mean by tha'?"
The small scotsman scrambled to his feet. He could already feel the bruise forming on his face. When he didn't respond, Murtagh flexed his fighting hand, causing Angus to quickly change his mind.
"What I'm tryin' te say is tha' ye have a chance. Ye must be truly blind iffen ye dinna see it. Miss Irvine doesna open up verra easily. From the time I've known her, she's proven te be as cold and hard as a rock. She's insensitive towards many,...except for when she's in her element of healing,...but tha's beside the point. Though wi' you,..." Angus paused, laughing slightly.
"Tha' lass has a big soft spot fer ye in her heart. She cares fer ye somethin' fierce. And tis clear tha' hold the same thing fer her as well,...te myself at least." He explained.
Murtagh kept silent, thinking on those words.
"How d'ye figure tha' I hold a supposed soft spot fer the lass?" He asked.
Angus stared at him as if he were crazy.
"Ye said it yerself, no charaid,...ye dinna like lasses. Though he gladly accepted te dance wi' this one. You know if it were anyone else, ye woulda told them te go straight te hell. And by the spirits,...ye looks like ye were havin' a bloody good time too."
Angus watched as Murtagh shifted uncomfortably. The older scot mumbled under his breath in annoyance. Turning to Angus once more, Murtagh shook his head.
"I truly despise you,...ye ken tha'? He grumbled.
Angus gave him a wide grin.
"Aye,...I do."

They both started back down the large hill and back towards Leoch, side by side. Angus broke the silence between them.
"She's a bonny lass." He said, gaining Murtagh's attention.
Murtagh took a moment before nodding, a small smile crossing his face.
"Aye,...she is." He admitted.
Perhaps he should get his head checked, he thought to himself. Why on Earth was his confiding in Angus,...willingly too?
Angus decided to take one more jab at the older scotsman, teasing him just a little bit more.
"Ha' ye thought of names fer yer wee bairns yet?" With that, he had himself a hard slap to the back of his head.
"Shut up, ye wee dolt."
"Oh, fine. Jes one last thing,..." Angus began, earning a distasteful glance.
"Spend time with Miss Irvine and get te know her. Jes like you, there are things tha' she too needs te realize."
Murtagh gave him a strange look.
"Since when d'ye ken anythin' bout' a woman besides the texture of her bed linens?" He asked.
Angus shrugged.
"Now tha's a secret I will willna tell." They both chuckled lightly.

Murtagh thought everything over carefully. He would first clean up a bit, then seek out the lovely Alana. Lovely indeed. He would apologize to her,...and come up with something they could do together. His heart sped up at the very thought of it. He should probably see what his godson was up to as well. He needed more than simply Angus' view on the matter. Murtagh shook his head. Hell,...what possessed him to take advice from THE Angus Mohr? In honesty, he was probably the worst person you could get it from. Murtagh had to laugh at that. For some reason,...he trusted him this time around.