Tell Me About Your Brother

They lay on the crest of a hill in the spring sunshine. The new leaves rustled in the breeze amidst a riot of birdsong; everywhere the forest of the Gorge burst with new life. A woven basket containing wine, honeyed hazelnuts, a wheel of cheese, and freshly baked meat pies sat in the grass next to them, wholly ignored. For nothing existed for them save each other; new love lit them both as vividly as spring blazing pink and scarlet on the boughs of the apple orchards. Everyone in the castle had remarked on it. "Lord Corrac, you're positively effervescent this morning!" Merrec had commented when they'd breakfasted the other day. Baron Cullan had said to her, a little wistfully, "You two remind me of myself and Catriona when we first wed. As parents, all we can do is try and make a good match for both our families, and hope we've chosen someone kind and wise and of an age, and hopefully reasonably pleasant to look at... but still, 'tis a rare and wondrous thing, when a solid and sensible match turns into the kind of love that sets one's heart on fire..."

And so they lay, his arm around her and her head pillowed in the nook between his arm and chest, for a blissful eternity, silent, listening to the warbles of birds and the sound of the wind in the leaves.

"Tell me about your brother."

"Brinden? Oh, my star, don't trouble yourself, please forgive him for being a little rude yesterday. It's just that he's always been a little... insecure, given his parentage, and the one thing he could do to always compel praise from my father is hunt; he's a good hunter. So I think he's just a little sore that my new bride can easily best him on the archery range. He's a good man, I know he'll realize his error and apologize--"

"No, not Brinden. The other one, the one in Rjurik. Cathal."

Corrac smiled. "Gods. I haven't seen him in nine years. I'm not sure there's much I can tell you; he was a child when I last saw him, and he's a man now."

"Well, tell me what you remember, then."

"I love him. That's mostly what I remember. It's impossible not to. He's... irrepressible, unstoppable. Impulsive. Cathal is too impatient to listen when you tell him that the fire is hot, he'd rather stick his finger in it to find out for himself. He has a hard time keeping his tongue in check. But not in a cruel way, more that he's too earnest for his own good. But above all, he's... good. There's a goodness that just shines from him. He has an ironclad idea of what's wrong and what's right, and no one can convince him otherwise." Sadness touched his handsome features. "The saddest day of my life was when my mother passed away. The second saddest was when Cathal left for Rjurik."

"Why do the Fulcairns have the treaty with the Yngvi? To what end?"

"I'm not certain, but both agree that 'tis a good thing, that both have benefited by it. Some say that Wilders are almost more like Rjurik than Anuireans. My father always said that we need it more than ever now, after the War of Succession... that we've fallen so low in the eyes of Taeghans that we need allies from elsewhere. This, I believe, is also why our marriage was arranged, and I am ever grateful to the gods it was..."

"Nay." She grinned. "That's not why. My clan sent me here to nag you to death, so I may assume control of the barony and make way for a Rjurik invasion!"

"If all the Rjurik are as pretty as you, I think the Anuireans would lay down their arms and welcome it. Come to think of it, that's a brilliant military strategy!"

They laughed, and after a time she said "Will Cathal will come back to Wilder's Gorge?"

"I hope so. Gods, I hope so. I want him to be an uncle, give our children rides on his shoulders, and--" Her thoughts must have darkened her face momentarily, because he immediately halted. "I-- I'm sorry, my star, I didn't mean to--"

"No worries, my love. 'Tis merely a reminder that we need to redouble our efforts." She smiled. "Tell me more about Cathal. Does he look like you?"

"Aye. Mother always said we would be mistaken for twins, if we were of an age."

"Then if he does come back, I'll have to be ever vigilant to make sure it's the right one of you in my bed, no?"

They laughed again, and fell silent, and watched whimsical puffs of cloud traverse the bright blue sky.

"Teach me some Rjuven," Corrac said.

"Hah, why? Doesn't it make more sense for you to be teaching me Anuirean?"

"Don't be silly! You speak Anuirean as though it were your first language! Come on, teach me some! Then if Cathal returns, we can speak Rjuven together, the three of us. Oh, it would be so wonderful to be together, the three of us..."

A shadow touched her then, a flicker of fear, foreboding, for a second. She did her best to push it away. She pointed upward at the blue sky and said "Himinn."

"Himinn."

"Sky. Well done." She pointed at the trees. "Träd."

"Träd."


"Trees. Excellent!" She motioned to the horses, who were hobbled and munching on the grasses. "Hestur."

"Hestur."

After a moment, she took his hand, met his gaze. Felt the beat of his heart, of both their hearts. Thought of the future, of the past, of everything she'd left behind, everything she dared to hope for now. Felt the great and terrible and improbable beauty of the turn her life had taken. Felt its fragility, and the spectre haunting her, whispering that it could all be taken away at any second.

"Förälskelse."

"Förälskelse?"

"Love."