Chapter 18 #4
He could forget the pain he had felt the past weeks, but he could not so easily forgive the torment Conn's game had put Caitlin through.
The terror, the disillusionment, the despair.
Only her rare courage had enabled her to survive, but brave as she was, she would never regain her total faith in the world.
Some would call that loss of innocence unavoidable. A tragic necessity for anyone living.
Yet, knowing she had suffered that loss not through chance but rather by design or selfish carelessness, in a game... that was a transgression he could not so easily forgive.
"You are not going to Glenfluirse," Niall said, stroking his sister's cheek.
"With your unguarded tongue, you would land yourself in trouble the instant you entered the gates.
Besides, someone must tend the gardens and watch over the start of our new herd, or we will be gnawing withered parsnips again when winter comes. "
"I do not care!" she cried, thumping her small fist against his chest.
"Aye, you do care, Fiona. About the earth and growing things, the cows and the castle. You will tend to it all while I am away, and when I return in triumph, I will be amazed by all you have done."
"Nay!" Fiona cried. "Do not leave me again!"
Niall winced at the memory of the day Conn's warriors had ridden away from Daire—Niall clutching the waist of Conn himself, while Ronan, bound and bleeding from a gash on his head, had struggled to cast a smile back at his tiny daughter.
Had their father known even then he would never see that winsome, wee face again?
Fiona had chased after the horses as they thundered out of the castle yard, shrieking Niall's name. My brvwer... give him back! The last thing Niall had seen was Fiona sprawling in the dirt, sobbing.
He cradled her close, stroking her fiery, damp hair, comforting her as he had not been able to so long ago. "I will only be gone for a little while, Fiona."
"Nay! I will not let you go!" Fiona cried out, pulled away, turning her back to him.
Niall swallowed hard, feeling her pain, the old pain and the new. "I know when I left last time, Mother was lost in the mists of her grief. You felt alone. This time, you will not be. Caitlin will stay with you at Daire."
Caitlin's eyes flashed panic. "Nay. I go with you, Niall. We face whatever the fates decree together."
"When all is settled and the time is right, you will be welcomed into Glenfluirse with the glory befitting Fintan's daughter."
"I want only to be your wife."
Tenderness crushed Niall's heart. He cradled her cheek in his hand.
"Do you not know, Lily Fair? No mere words can make you dearer to my heart than you already are.
In my soul, you are wife already. The most precious gift any man was ever given.
I want to share a lifetime with you, alannah. That is why I ask you to stay behind."
She pressed her fingertips to her brow. "I do not understand."
"If, by some strange twist of fate, anything is amiss, I will be able to escape more quickly without you." He struggled to fix a teasing smile on his face, banish her fear. "Unless, of course, you possess some of your father's magic that you have not told me about."
"If I did, I would have used it to turn you into a toad the first night you took me from the abbey!" she cried, temper flaring.
Niall chuckled. "I suspected as much. Though a bit of Fintan's sorcery might be most welcome if you could banish this miserable rain."
"This is not a jest, Niall! We love you. Fiona and I and your mother! Nothing—not even Daire—is worth the risk of losing you!"
"There is something worth any risk to me, Lily Fair. My babes are even now dancing in your eyes. They need a home, mo chroi, and so do you."
He cupped her face in his hands, kissed her brow. "The next time I see your face, you will be watching as I take my place as tainist."
Tears brimmed over the thick fan of her lashes. "I wish you to be my husband, nothing more."
He smiled, memorizing her face, rain-damp and lovely. "Do not be afraid," he bade her.
Why was he? Fear struck him like a fist in his gut, stone cold, undeniable.
Nay, he was mad. Every rash dream he had dared in the past weeks suddenly lay just within his reach.
Caitlin would be his wife. He could give Fiona her cherished Daire in exchange for the far more precious gift she had just given him—her love returned.
In time, dark-curled babes would toddle about, so winsome they would lure his mother back from her world of mist.
Was not such abundance worth any risk? Even the life he had regained in Caitlin's arms?
"Trust me, mo chroi," he murmured, taking Caitlin's hand. He turned, grasping Fiona's grubby, rigid fingers with his other. "Trust me, my wee sister."
Fiona flung herself against him with a sob. Caitlin did not move. Only her eyes pierced him to his heart. She swallowed hard, and Niall knew how much it cost her not to weep. "I will take care of them for you," she vowed. "Your mother will be my mother. Fiona the sister I always dreamed of."
"D-dream?" Fiona choked out. "I am a n-nightmare. Just ask N-Niall."
Niall gathered them both in his arms, looked over Caitlin's shoulder to where his mother was wandering toward them, her face so fragile, so earnest, as she clung to one of Declan's flower-filled arms.
"I will not fail you," Niall vowed, so fiercely the foundation of Tir naN Og trembled at the force of it.