10 - Nothing More, Nothing Less

Ailsa

I spend the day covered in an excited glow. I didn't notice at first, going about my day happily ignorant of my cheery nature, until it was time for our midday meal that is.

When I slid into my normal seat, reaching for my meal, I realized that Gentry was staring at me. I pulled my head up and addressed her with my gaze.

She had a slight smile painted on her face, the way her lips tilted emphasizing the oval shape of her face.

"What has you so chipper, lass?" The question was clear as day despite the many sounds of the boisterous dining hall.

I fumbled with the pitcher, almost spilling as I tried to fill my cup.

I gave some made up answer about my lungs feeling great today, and she hardly believed me. I saw the doubt in her eyes as she ate her food, watching me carefully like a hawk that's prepared to strike.

Each bite I took felt like agony, and then it was over and I snuck away before my nosy maid could

press me anymore.

My mind kept returning to Fraser. I didn't know much about him, but his name felt like more than enough for the time being.

He's not a very nice man, but for some reason I like him.

It's as if he's not afraid to tiptoe around me. He doesn't treat me like a delicate flower thats prepared to wilt at any sign of negativity. It's because he doesn't know who I am, he has no clue of my status in the clan, and he certainly doesn't know anything of my harsh illness that follows me like a shadow.

At first, his crass nature towards me was shocking, and fear soon followed. After the second visit though, I was warming up to the idea of him more and more. His treatment of me was refreshing, oddly enough.

I've never had the opportunity to speak to someone who didn't already have a preconceived view of me, and how to treat me as a result. To Fraser, I am just another person. In his mind, I could be anyone, be anything. It's encouraging, allowing me to shape an image of myself that isn't about my clan, isn't about my disease.

I'm just Ailsa. To Fraser I am simply a young blonde girl. Knowing that is invigorating.

It's something I consider all day as I ready myself for another midnight visit. I evaluate each emotion as it comes, letting it sink in and revelling in it. I never thought my father would take a prisoner, and I had no idea he would change me in so many ways by just showing up.

His face flashes in my mind as I feign getting ready for bed. My breath catches thinking of that beard covered face, so angular and spotted with smudges of dirt and grease. Despite all of that, despite the smell of his breath and body odor, he was so unbelievably handsome.

I can still recall his dark brown eyes, so very dark that they were almost black. His hair was messy and brunette, tousled with waves and shiny with oils.

Fraser is striking, and even though I have only seen him once, his image is burned into my brain as if I've seen it every day for years. Somehow I know that if the first time I saw him had also been the last, I could recall the slight bend in his nose for years to come.

Gentry tucks me into bed, pulling the white, linen covers up to my chin and sitting on the edge of the bed. I swallow my guilt at tricking her as she tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Sleep well, little Ailsa. You are my world." I grin up at her, jumping forward suddenly to wrap my arms around her thick neck, allowing her to pull me close.

This woman has raised me, and I'm going behind her back. Every moment she thinks I'm slumbering safely in my warm bed where she left me, and all the while I'm sneaking away to see a man that is potentially very dangerous. The sun will go down and I'll be deep in the underground dungeons, beneath her feet and wide awake.

I suddenly feel sick and pull away, putting on a false smile and snuggling down into the nest of cushy blankets.

She reaches for the lantern, and I quickly beg her to leave it for me.

Raising an eyebrow, she places it back on the table.

"Two nights in a row you ask me to leave the light, why do you need it?"

I pull a novel out from under my pillow, waving it in the air.

"It's been helping me to sleep. Please?"

My pleading works, and she nods with a shrug and then she's gone.

I make my way to the dungeons in record speed, slinking around in the dark with a thick cloak draped over my shoulders. The fabric is warm and heavy, so heavy it keeps drooping and sliding off of me. I continue to pull and tug at it, trying to get it situated as I hold my lantern in the other.

I consider heading to the kitchen first to fetch Fraser more food, but he seemed less than thrilled to receive the loaf of bread I had snatched for him. I've decided I'll have to ask him what his preference is, although I never thought a starving man would have any complaints when it came to getting even a morsel of food.

A burst of cold air hits me, and I realize that the impossibly large door is already open. The crack at the edge of the wood is pitch black and leaking freezing, dank air into the hallway.

Someone opened the door. Someone else has discovered Fraser.

I leap forward, carefully pulling it the rest of the way open and slipping into the dimness. I put down my lamp when the voices reach me.

"You're a monster, a damn monster, nothing more, nothing less." The gruff voice that reaches my ears is so familiar, especially the tone of pure disgust.

That's the same voice my father uses when he speaks to me.

"Says the one holding me prisoner." Fraser hisses under his breath, his words so low that I barely pick them up.

So it is my father that's captured Fraser. The question burning in the back of my head is small but insistent, why?

Father scoffs.

"You deserve to be here, monster. I'm doing the world a favor, I'm going to save scotland itself." He boasts, and I can picture him putting his fists on his hips, but it's too risky to actually look. I can only imagine what he'd do if he saw me eavesdropping.

"And how does torturing me accomplish that, exactly?"

That's what I'm wondering. I lean forward, desperate for answers, needing any explanation for the arrival of this strange man.

"Each weakness I discover in you is another step towards wiping your species from this land."

His kind? What on Earth is father going on about? Does he really view other clans so harshly? Do outsiders really register as another species to him?

I hear spit being spewed through the air, and I wonder which person it came from. I don't have to guess for long.

Fraser is too classy for such an act. My father isn't above anything, especially when he views someone as his enemy. It's hard for me to believe that I'm related to someone who can be so heartless, so completely nasty in nature.

I wonder if those qualities will ever reveal themselves in me. Maybe my bad temper is already there, just hidden down deep and waiting for the right moment to show up.

"My kind has never hurt anyone. You don't understand what we do to survive. You know what you know, and draw your own conclusions. That's what you do, that's what humans have always done." Fraser sneers.

Feeling my mouth drop open, I put a hand over my lips, trying to control my breath as it threatens to go wild.

Fraser thinks he's not human? Or.. he really isn't human. No. No, something that outlandish can't be true, I won't hear of it. I've always rejected the tall tales and fantasy rumors that littered the highlands like rain in the spring.

If I give in, if I start to put heed in these ridiculous stories, I'll start to lose my good sense, and that's one of the only things I have left. I just can not afford to entertain such silly imaginings.

The legends of bloodsucking creatures in the woods are just that, legends. They are bedtime stories crafted for children and fools who have no more brains than birds. I am not gullible.

If the stories are all lies, then what is it that Fraser believes?

I'm desperate to know, but I have a feeling that tonight will not be the night I get to the bottom of it. I've already overstayed my welcome. I retrieve my lantern and nod once, knowing it's time I leave this conversation that I am not meant to hear.

While my father continues to scold Fraser, I disappear. I back away one step at a time, imagining I'm a ghost as I stalk back to my bedroom.

I toss and turn all night, unable to get a good night's rest as the word monster seems to hover heavy in the air.