Author: Hecate Dark Goddess PM
A romance between a young English lord and a Scottish woman. Longer summary inside. Please R&R. Sorry for the odd format. I will try to fix that.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Words: 1,172 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 6 - Published: 06-02-07 - id: 3570890
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N- Braveheart has been one of my all time favorite movies for awhile. I love not only the story, but the whole time period. So I figured it was about time that I wrote a fanfiction about it. I hope you all enjoy! Please R&R. Oh and this takes place before William's return to Scotland.
Summary- After the death of his father, a young Englishman inherits an estate in Scotland and so becomes a lord. Soon after his inheritance, King Edward the Longshanks makes the decree that all nobles are to have prima noctes. The young English lord learns of a marriage between two commoners, and so he attends the wedding to, albeit nervously, claim his rights. But the young Scottish woman touches something in his young heart, and she finds herself falling for him as well. Can a romance such as their's survive in a war-torn land?
Disclaimer- I do not own Braveheart. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and I get no profit.
Chapter One: The Lord and the Bride
Jubilant sounds of merry-making drifted to his ears as his horse made its way closer. Laughter and shouts of joy rang out in the warm afternoon air. The sun smiled down on the green, green fields in a comforting way. All in all, it was an ideal day. The young Lord Vincent Balston would have given almost anything to have been out riding through the countryside or hunting with his comrades, but alas, one could not always have what he wanted.
Soon the joyous sounds of the wedding feast would cease. A terrible silence would descend over all of its guests. Vincent had ridden with other lords when they went to claim prima noctes. He had seen it before. He knew that he was about to ruin the wedding of a young couple. Many men would have been excited about the prospects of a night with a fresh, young woman, and under different circumstances, Vincent certainly would have been. As it were, he felt sick.
How could he look forward to sabotaging the couple's wedding? On a night such as this the young bride should be safe and warm in the arms of her new husband, not cold and afraid in the bed of a stranger. This was not right. There was no way to justify it…. And yet, he knew he would go through with it.
Since his father had died and left him his estate three months ago, Vincent had always heard the old man's voice in his mind, urging him to do what was best in order to promote his social status or the welfare of his estate. Morals had never been top on his father's priorities. Everything was about politics, and if the king wanted him to claim prima noctes, then he knew that that was what he had to do whether it was what he wanted or not.
"My lord?" one of the riders on his left said, prompting Vincent out of his reflections.
He lifted his head and peered about. They were almost at their destination now. He could see that the wedding guests had stopped their dancing and now gathered together to watch the approaching riders. Already an ominous silence filled the air, broken only by the hoof beats of their horses.
"Make no quarrel with the guests unless trouble arises," he ordered softly as the galloped ever nearer to the gathering, "Is that clear?" There was a collective 'aye' in response. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was trouble. He just wanted to get the bride, do his duty, and return her. Of course, his 'duty' would be pleasurable, but try as he might, he just could not make himself look forward to the act.
Then it was time. He could see the bleak faces of all the wedding guests so clearly. Their expressions would be etched in his memory for all time. But one face stuck out more than the others. She was petite, frail even, with wavy black hair that flowed all the way down to her slender hips. Haunted green eyes gazed up at him knowingly from a pale white face. She knew why he was there. She knew what would be demanded of her. The bride.
The bride looked up at the lord through troubled, frightened eyes. They had always known that this was a possibility. Why had she thought that maybe her marriage could slip under the notice of the English lords? Why had she hoped that she might be an exception?
She did her best to look brave and defiant. She was Lorna Callahan. She could face this. She had to. But she feared that the English lord and his men could see right through her act. Will he at least be kind to me? she wondered briefly. Then with that thought, righteous anger welled up inside her. She didn't want his kindness even if he deemed her worthy enough for it. She was beyond wanting kindness now.
Her eyes went from afraid to murderous as she glared at the tall man sitting atop his horse.
Under other circumstances, she might have thought him handsome. He had unruly locks of shaggy brown hair and an open, honest face. He had lightly sun-darkened skin and rich brown eyes. The shape of his mouth looked to be more suited for smiling than the grim expression he wore now. Lorna wondered how old he was, surely not many years her senior, if any. At least she was fortunate enough in that, though she didn't consider herself very lucky at all.
Brodric, her new husband, her beloved, came to stand close behind her. His hands rested possessively on her hips. Poor Brodric, she thought. She knew that she was not the only one who was to be robbed of a wedding night. Her husband would have to lie in bed alone tonight while she rested under this English pig.
Her father stood to her right and her brother to her left. Both men had their arms folded over their broad chests as they glared up with hawk like eyes at the Englishmen. They too knew what was going to happen, but how were they to preserve their kinswoman's honor when this was law?
Finally her father, Argyle, was the first to speak. "What brings you to the ceremony, Englishman?" he demanded loudly, though everyone knew very well what the lord was there for, "Come to join in on the festivities, eh?"
It took a moment for the Englishman to reply, and when he did his voice was soft, and Lorna thought she detected a hint of shakiness. "As lord of this land, I come to claim the right of prima noctes."
A/N- So what do you all think of my first chapter, hmm? Sorry it was so short, but I hope to have the next one out soon. Please review.