With little fanfare welcoming them home, the two riders in black, dismounted at the gates of the stronghold and made their way inside, their long hooded cloaks billowing out behind them as they hurried along. With nary a sideways glance from the guards, they entered the main hall and slipped through a long, sparsely lit passageway that had been carefully concealed by a large tapestry.

After traveling through the winding path and up the steep staircase of the hidden passage, the men emerged from behind a painting that hung low upon the wall of their lord's suite. The man they sought was sitting quietly upon a bench, stroking his long white beard in thought, giving no indication that he had heard the men's arrival.

"My liege," they greeted in unison, bowing before their master.

Winterberry's head lifted and his cool blue eyes bore into the two soldiers before him. "What did you find?"

Alfred, the taller of the two, looked at his brother and hesitated, sure that the Winterberry's anger would indeed be directed at the messenger bearing any bad news.

"WELL?" Joseph prodded when it became obvious that the men were holding something back.

"Y-Your son, sir..." Harold, then younger man began, stumbling.

"What of him? What news have you of my son? Is he well? Did you speak with him?"

"No sir," Harold admitted, "We did not. He had been injured earlier in the day."

"Flesh wounds, sire," Alfred rushed to reassure him. "From a mad man, it would seem."

"Mad man?"

Alfred nodded. "Sir Garrick. Do you know of him?"

"Garrick? That old fool? Tell me that Justin spared us all the trouble and killed the man."

"Not...exactly. It was a sparring battle, but the man must have snapped, sire. Garrick has been locked away in the dungeon for the time being."

Joseph studied Alfred closely, looking for any tell-tale signs that he might be keeping something more from him. "Justin is well?"

"Aye. Though there were many people with him during the day."

"Which is why we were not able to contact him," Harold stated unnecessarily.

"Yes," Joseph snarled. "I'm sure my...dearly departed wife's...loon of a mother has been clinging to the boy's side like a leech."

"Actually-" Alfred nudged his brother roughly in the ribs, hoping to silence the other man before he said too much. But alas it was too late. Joseph had already heard him.

"What are you not telling me?" the man snapped, bounding to his feet.

Alfred silently cursed his brother. "It's...McKinnon, sire."

Joseph's features darkened and the two men flinched, knowing the look of pure hatred and disdain. "Let me chance a guess. My useless son has yet to fulfill his end of our bargain."

"No milord. I believe he is most assuredly achieving his goal."

Harold nodded. "T'is the way he's going about it though..." Once he realized what he had admitted, Harold stepped away from both Alfred and Joseph to avoid any retribution from either party.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Alfred glared at his brother, who had suddenly gone silent, and inwardly sighed as he realized he would indeed have to tell him everything. "It would seem that young Justin has developed a close kinship with McKinnon."

"Yes yes," Joseph began to pace impatiently. "This was all agreed upon. Justin would forge a bond with the man. I am proud that he has managed the task."

"Ah...yes."

Joseph paused and stared at Alfred. "The boy hasn't...turned his back on me. Has he?" He almost looked pained at the thought. But not as pained as he would be, when he heard the truth of the matter.

"That has yet to be seen, my lord. We have, however, found that his relationship with the man is..."

"...Is what, Alfred?" Joseph screamed frantically, taxed by Alfred's inability to tell him everything.

"It is...a sacrilege, Lord Winterberry."

With a look at the young soldier, Joseph's fears were confirmed. His face was distorted with disgust for his child. But even more so for McKinnon. "The infidel has corrupted my son!"

Harold and Alfred shared a look, wondering if they should not make a hasty retreat before the man could take out his anger on them. As the brothers disappeared, slipping once again through the hidden passageways, their master's vengeful screams were heard throughout the castle, vowing death to the villainous Scotsman.

***

Hours after their midnight swim, Justin and Brian were still stretched out, side by side, upon one of the larger rocks that surrounded the pond. As Justin slipped in and out of slumber, Brian propped himself up upon his elbow and stared down at the blonde man. His fingers, which had explored every last plane of Justin's body earlier that night, now leisurely stroked soft patterns across the pale flesh.

He loved Justin's skin. It was beautiful. So divine and unearthly. It glowed a soft blue beneath the light of the moon. Brian wished that he could somehow capture the lovely blue light of his lover's skin, so that he might keep the light with him always.

Brian scoffed. Such fanciful thoughts, he seemed to be entertaining. It was all because of the young man at his side. Never had he been such a soft-hearted idealist. But something about the little warrior brought about so many thoughts and feelings. Ideas that he had always viewed as foolish and simple-minded.

He had often times heard Claire pine away over one of their father's men. She too, spoke of the men's beauties as if she were speaking of mystical beings. It made him cringe to think that he too might have become as maudlin as his twit of a sister.

Still, no matter how much he denied his thoughts, or tried to hold back, Justin Winterberry got beneath his skin. There would be no shaking him now. It felt right. He found solace with the other man. Something he had never experienced with another person before. Man or woman.

Hearing a soft yawn, Brian glanced at his young lover's face and noticed that he was indeed awakening. "Hello," Justin whispered, looking quite the innocent with his bright eyes and wistful smile.

"Hello." Brian ran a finger down the side of Justin's face, following the line of his jaw and continuing down his neck, until he was once again running patterns along his chest. The blonde's body trembled beneath his touch and the young man moved closer to him so that he might capture the heat that radiated between the two.

"I had a...wondrous dream."

"A dream?" Brian asked, as if it were a foreign concept to him.

"Yes. I dreamt that you and I stayed here. Forever. Growing old together. Loving one another."

Suddenly, though he couldn't imagine why, Brian felt his chest tighten painfully. His breath caught in his throat and a broad smile spread across his hardened features. "Did you?"

"Yes, milord." Justin grinned and leaned up to place a kiss against the underside of Brian's chin. "It was..."

"Beautiful?"

Justin nodded.

"Just as you...are beautiful."

Justin blushed at the compliment and pulled Brian's hand into his own. "My grandmother says that dreams are the heart's way of showing you your deepest wants and desires."

"And what of dreams that show deaths and pain?"

"Those...are the heart's way of showing your deepest fears."

Brian laughed. "Your grandmother. She has an answer for everything, does she not?"

"That she does." Justin admitted. "Yet, I have found that her answers, more often than not, are accurate."

"She's also a very generous woman. Unlike my grandmother, who would have gone to an early grave rather than give anyone a kind word."

This window into Brian's past, piqued Justin's interest and the blonde rolled Brian onto his back so that he might sit astride him. Leaning down, Justin placed a gentle kiss on his lord's strong and mighty chest. He turned his head, pressing his ear against the place where his lips had caressed and listened to the lulling rhythm of his beating heart. "Tell me about your family."

Brian was quiet for a moment, unsure of what he should reveal to Justin. How much should he tell him? "What would you like to know?"

He could feel Justin smiling against his skin. "Everything," his angel whispered.

"Everything?" Brian sighed heavily as if it were such a dreadful task. Which, in some ways, it was. Justin poked him in the ribs and he let out a small chuckle. "Alright. Everything it is, then." He cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around the man above him. He might need the familiar feel of him when the memories would be sure to engulf him.

"Well...my father, he's the laird of our clan. He married a beautiful woman from the neighboring clan-"

"Your mother?"

"No. Now hush and let me tell the story," Brian chastised, softening the words with a kiss on the crown of Justin's head. "He married Mariel, and he loved her dearly. He gave her gifts and cared more deeply for her than anyone else in the world. And after many years of marriage, Mariel had only failed once in his eyes. She had failed to bear him a son. He had a daughter, Claire,...but no true heir. So, Jock McKinnon did as any leader would do. He took a mistress and she became pregnant with his child straight away."

Halting for a second, he sighed, dreading the anger and bitterness the story was bound to bring about within him.

Sensing the hesitation within his lover, Justin rubbed his hands soothingly over Brian's upper arms and shoulders. "It is of no consequence," he whispered, looking up at the man. "Do not go on...if you have no wish to."

Now that Justin had freed him from telling the balance of his story, he wanted nothing more than to share the tale with him. To give him a part of himself, just as Justin had given all of himself to him.

"She...she was pregnant. And at the same time, it was found that Mariel, too, was with child. Mariel's child was the first to be born. His name was to be Aedan and he was destined to be Jock's true heir. A mere fortnight later, Jock's mistress, Joan also bore a child. And his name...was Brian. Only...Brian was now the second son. And a bastard child as well. Jock saw no real need for him.

"Joan died days after Brian was born and Jock was bound by honor to take the child into his home. To be raised alongside Aedan. And he was. Raised as a true McKinnon. Taught the same lessons. Cared for by the same mother, for Mariel - being the kind-hearted woman that she was - had taken the stray boy in as her very own. In her eyes the children were equals in every way. It amazed Brian, in later years, that the woman felt no ill-will towards him. He had, after all, been born from an unholy union between another woman and her own husband. It was because of her forgiving nature, that Brian truly did think of her as his mother.

"It proved to be very useful, having Mariel as his ally. For Jock had no intention of paying the boy any more attention than he needed to. While Aedan remained at their father's side long after their lessons were complete, Brian would learn altogether different lessons from Mariel. Lessons in running a household. Lessons in dance. Lessons in literature and history. She cultivated his education and, by Brian's own estimation, made him just a bit better than his brother.

"When the boys were nearly seventeen summers, Jock announced that he was to take Brian with him on a journey to England. Brian was so excited. After so many years, it seemed as though his father had finally wanted him at his side. Soon...Brian found himself in the company of a young woman. Lindsay, the daughter of Lord Rushworth. Even though she did not care much for him, she was the sweetest creature Brian had ever set eyes upon...at that time, of course.

"Rushworth had settled an agreement with Laird McKinnon during their time in England. When his daughter reached eighteen summers, some six years later, she would be wed to Brian. And with doing so, Brian would become Rushworth's predecessor. It would also rid Jock of his bastard son and form an alliance with England. Like a horse at market, Brian was sold away."

Brian stopped as he felt Justin shift restlessly. "Milord..."

"What is it, my love?" He nudged Justin's chin so that the younger man was looking up at him. The compassion and love he saw there, melted away any worry that the story might change what Justin felt for him. Or that it would bring back the painful memories that he had worked so hard to push away.

"If I can love you...just enough to make up for even a small amount of the pain that was caused you...I will love you for the rest of my life."

Brian was left speechless with Justin's words. He felt the warm gathering of wetness in his eyes and he gently pushed Justin's head back down so that he was once again resting upon his chest. Unable to see the tears that were streaking Brian's cheeks, unchecked. "You didn't let me finish the story."

"Then please go on."

"You see...after the years passed, Brian was to marry Lindsay. Her father was away, fighting off the neighboring clan, but the contract was to be fulfilled regardless. So he married the woman and they lived as man and wife for nearly a year when Rushworth's men returned home. For a year, Justin Winterberry, had been built up as a great legend in Brian's mind. Besides Lindsay regaling him with tales of her childhood companion, he also received word from the battle that the younger Winterberry was making a name for himself in the fight. That he had slain a dozen men. That he had led the charge against his own father. Brian half expected to meet a giant. Instead...he came face to face with a child."

As he felt Justin stiffen at the reference, he ran his fingers through the Justin's soft damp hair until he relaxed once agian, "A child..." he continued, "that would prove to be quite his equal in many many ways. And he was entranced by the boys beauty. But even more so, by the young man's spirit and his ability to love so freely. And Brian...found love...in the last place he had ever expected to find love. In the arms of his young warrior."

Justin sighed. "How does the story end?"

Brian closed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired indeed. "It hasn't ended yet. The story goes on...with every passing second."

Justin rolled off of Brian, but they stayed locked together as one. Their eyes met, and Justin captured his lips in a soft humming kiss. "Then we shall make it a good story," he whispered.

And minutes later, when slumber finally found Brian, he slept with a smile upon his face.

***

As morning neared, Joseph Winterberry had yet to rest. His mind was focused on the matter at hand. Retrieving his son from what was surely the gates of Hell and bringing him to his side, so that they may fight the McKinnon bastard together.

Yet, with the information that he had received, his son was being played for a fool. He was being blinded by the arrogant Scot and would not follow his father so easily now.

No. They had to use a different approach. They had to get to McKinnon first. And then he would see to the safe return of his boy.

"Alright men," Joseph addressed the three men before him. His three BEST men. "You have your orders. Use whatever means necessary to complete the task. And if you fail, do not bother returning. We must, and we WILL defeat McKinnon. One way, or another."

To Be Continued...