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pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

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The Warrior's Wrath - Part 1

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Word Count: 6644

Tags: Medieval Scotland AU; Highlander Kid; Blurry non-con; Angst without happy ending; Fluff and angst; have I mentioned ANGST? soft Kid; feral Kid; Blood and gore; Killer might have a crush on reader (didn’t notice I did this until I was editing); MDNI!!! 🔞

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You and Kid, the fiercest worry of your village, get married and happiness is just within your reach. Until Blackbeard, the laird, comes to claim prima nocta and takes you. Somehow, you are able to placate Kid’s anger before you go, yet, when you return filled with marks and bruises, Kid can no longer be controlled.

Notes: Highlander Kid lives rent free in my head and I can’t help it. This one got away from me, though. I meant it to be around 5 or 6k words, it turned out to be almost 13k. Historical note, there’s no concrete historical evidence to support the existence of prima nocte, but this story was heavily inspired by Braveheart - God, I love this movie. I do hope you enjoy it! I’m so sorry for breaking your heart again. I thrive on angst!

PS: Decided to compromise and split this into two parts but posted at the same time!

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane

MASTERLIST

|Part 2|

The forest whizzed past you as you raced, your heart thumping loudly against your aching chest, blood flowing so fast and so hard that you could feel it rushing through your ears. Small, insignificant cuts from sharp branches marked your face and forearms, but you did not let that slow you down.

You were being chased.

You could hear heavy footsteps approaching fast. Faster than any man of his size should possibly be able to run. Branches cracked loudly under the weight of his heavy feet and you could almost feel the vibration from his growls and grunts.

There was no use in hiding. Running was your only option. Yet, you were growing tired, and careless.

Tripping on a tree root made you tumble and roll over twice before you stopped with a whine and a wince. Your head spun for a moment and the greens of the leaves mixed with the grey of the sky and the whites of the wisps of fog. Other than a bloodied lip and a bruised knee, you were fine, so you quickly got to your feet, ready to start racing again.

You barely took a step forward before a large hand, almost the size of your head, wrapped around your neck and pushed you with your back against the tree. A muffled yelp escaped your lips as your back collided with the harsh bark of the birch tree and you were pretty sure the white of the bark would be stained with your blood.

“Caught ya, lass.” He growled, red lips curling back to reveal a terrifying grin that turned your knees to jelly. “Almost outdid me this time.” A thin line of sweat coated his hairline, turning the red of his flaming hair into a darker shade.

Your own lips curled back and you could taste blood on them from your fall. “I don't think I'm getting faster, it's you who are getting slower and sloppier. Maybe you should stop eating so much pottage.”

His laughter came out in a hearty roar as he threw his head back, shoulders heaving and fingers loosening around your neck. You took the opportunity to elbow him in the side of his belly and escape from under his arm with a quick movement.

Yet he reacted quickly and spun, lacing his arm around your waist and holding your back against his broad chest. “Clever lass.” He snarled against your ear, hot breath bristling all the hairs on your body. “Not fast enough, though.” With another grunt he pushed you back against the tree, chest bumping against the trunk, this time and, using his weight to keep you in place, his one hand wrestled with lifting up your dress.

His thick fingers found you already wet and wanting, slick dripping on your thighs, and he growled against your nape, teeth nipping your flesh and leaving pinkish indents behind. “This wet already? The run’s got ya hot and bothered, lass?”

You hummed as an answer as your digits found purchase against the tree, reading yourself for what was coming, heat already pooling and gathering in your belly, your core throbbing with desire.

He pushed a finger inside you and pressed. A small moan left your parted lips and he inserted another one. The thickness of his fingers made you feel stuffed and full and you mewled, eyes rolling back and your nails sunk into the bark. “More.” Arching your back and sticking out your butt, you whined, knowing he wouldn't resist your begging.

Sharp teeth sank on your shoulder as your head snapped back against his chest and he inserted a third finger, making you roll your hips and open your mouth. “Kid!”

“Beg, lass. Beg for me.” The vibrato of his low voice made you throb and pant, heart racing in an unholy rhythm, eyes already trembling and starting to see white.

“Please, please, Kid.”

“Please what, lass?” Yet you didn't know what you wanted. Release from his fingers, or to feel his big, veiny cock inside of you?

“Please!” You just begged, hoping he would read you and realise what you wanted, because your thoughts were already mush and you were lost in a high of pleasure. And he didn't disappoint you. Rolling his slicked fingers against your clit sent you over and you gasped as a deep crescendo of moans followed it. Kid did not wait for you to come down as he lifted his kilt and sunk his length into you, bottoming out immediately.

Your moan turned into a sharp cry as he joined you and he shoved his fingers in your mouth. “Hush, lass. Ya never know what is lurking in these woods. Now, lick my fingers until they're clean.”

You mewled and hummed as your hot tongue sucked and licked around his thick fingers, tasting yourself and finding the gesture so deeply arousing that you rolled your hips against him, which earned you a harsh bite on the back of the neck.

“Steady, lass. Ya can't move until ya lick every drop.” He meant it and you knew it. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his chest muscles taut against your back, rippling and coiling, ready to thrust and pound. But where he was short tempered with mundane affairs, with sex he was as patient as it got. He could wear you as a cocksleeve for as long as he wanted and he knew you would break first. Whining, begging and crying for him to move. So you did your best to lick every single drop of your juices from his digits.

“That's a good lass.” He murmured appreciatively against your ear, his hand wrapping your jaw and turning your face back to meet his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Tongue sweeping the blood on your lips with the hunger of a starved man before his hand descended, gripping your breast firmly, then wrapped around your stomach and he finally started to move.

A single thrust got you moaning into his mouth, nails scraping against the bark of the tree, limbs writhing as you tried to ground yourself. He pulled back, almost all the way out and pounded harder this time. Parting your lips, you filled the air with a cry followed by his name, cunt throbbing against his cock, your release just within grasp.

“Harder.” You barely articulated, eyes shut and hand dropping low, finding your needy nub and pressing hard. “Kid!”

“Yar a desperate lil’ lass aren't ya?” His growls and grunts vibrating against your skin told you he was almost coming. His hand pressed against your stomach, pushing into his bulge and you panted and moaned, a litany or a prayer to gods both known and unknown leaving your open lips. Arms hugging the tree for support as Kid pounded relentlessly. Sloppy, uneven pounds, as he was on the brink of filling you up. “Tell me how desperate ya are?”

But you couldn't tell him, because his next deep thrust sent you on a spiral and you lost touch with reality, falling into the throes of pleasure. Eyes flashing white and legs trembling. Kid followed you right behind, spilling his seed and filling your insides, both of you left panting and gasping for air.

He pulled out with a grunt and you whined from feeling empty all of a sudden, knees falling down into the damp earth, chest still heaving. Kid sat down next to you, his hand cradled your cheek as he laid a sweet kiss upon your bruised lips. He moved softly now, a gentle caress with his tongue before parting, leaving his forehead connected to yours for a moment, until you were both breathing in tandem, small smiles of bliss on your mouths.

“Marry me, lass.” He asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

“We've been through this, Kid.”

“I want to make ya an honest woman.” He pulled back to stare into your eyes and you could see the hints of mischievousness in his orange gaze.

“That's not possible anymore, I'm afraid.” A chuckle left your lips and you dragged your fingers through his flaming red hair.

“I still want to marry ya. Do ya want a band? I can make ya a ring out of anything!” You kept chuckling as he started to count with his fingers: “Gold is harder to get, but I can get tin, or bronze. Maybe wood? I can craft something with resin, a flower in the middle. I know ya like primroses.”

Pressing your lips against his as you climbed his legs and straddled his lap managed to shut him up effectively.

“Aye.” A blush accompanied your whisper as you parted your lips.

“Aye? To the band? Which one?” He asked as he adjusted himself with your entry, already hard and ready to go again.

“Aye to the marriage, you fool.”

-*-

The village had been restless for a few weeks. The clan's laird had died and the son had inherited the title. Not everyone on the council agreed to have the infamous Blackbeard Teach as the new laird, but he had threatened to get the votes and secured the position.

He raised the feudal dues immediately.

However, your marriage was happening and you could not be happier. Kid had been courting you in his gruff way for a while. Leaving handmade trinkets on your door: little wooden figurines of animals and flowers; grunting and acting jealous at whatever man dared touch you in a more intimate manner at the village dances and festivities; wanting to lay his claim on you, but knowing he had no right because you hadn't yet expressed your desire for him.

Until you did. Until you pulled him by the hand to a secluded location during a bonfire dance, and you gave yourself to him for the first time.

And every time moving forward, he had asked you to be his wife. You thought he had only done that because he felt guilty about deflowering you. Turned out it wasn't the case at all. Kid, the fiercest warrior of your village was in love with you. And that thought filled you with happiness.

Thinking back, you don't quite know why you kept telling him no. Maybe you wanted him to fight for you? Or maybe you wanted to be sure of his feelings towards you? Whatever it was, it is a feeling of the past. You were deeply, madly, desperately in love with Eustass Kid.

And both your smiles said it all.

-*-

The day had dawned like many others in the unforgiving Highlands. Dense and thick wisps of fog hovered over the mountains, little droplets of dew freshening your face, forcing you to wake up. But the dim sunlight appeared shyly behind the mist and you were positive the sun would grace your wedding day.

Your best dress was not new, but it was not muddied or torn and the dark green paired perfectly with the red of your soon-to-be husband's hair. Your friend, Quincy made you a headdress of flowers: white heather and clovers for good luck, primroses and daisies because they were your favourite flowers, meadowsweet to fill in the gaps and finely woven into the headdress, ropes of ivy to symbolise fidelity and eternity.

You couldn't stop smiling.

There was a makeshift altar draped with a cloth and adorned with garlands of ivy and wildflowers, set in the centre of the sacred stone circle in the forest. Kid and the druid of your community were already gathered at the front. Friends and family sat on rocks and on the ground to witness your union. Your eyes filled with tenderness when you reached Kid’s side. He seemed anxious and you had never seen such a distraught expression on his face before. Your smile helped, though, and he relaxed with a low grunt.

After a few words to call upon the old gods, the druid tied a cord of woven wool around both of your hands. The soft sound of the piper filled the air, lending the words of the druid a sense of serenity and etherealness, blessing your union with love. When both your hands were bound Kid looked you in the eyes, his imposing figure standing much taller than your own and he said his vows.

“I pledge my heart to you,” your name came out with a raspy sound and he cleared his throat to continue. “To share in your dreams and to walk beside you through all the paths of life.”

Squeezing his hand, you took a deep, shaky breath. “I pledge my heart to you, Eustass Kid, to share in your joys and to stand by you through all the challenges we face.”

The druid continued to interlace your hands with the wool in an intricate figure-of-eight to symbolise infinity. His lips chanted a beautiful melody, a litany to the old gods.

Kid’s lip shook slightly. “I, Eustass Kid, take you as my partner for life. By the earth that sustains us and the sky that watches over us, I promise to honour and protect you, always.”

Visibly emotional, you said your name and continued. “I take you as my partner for life. By the fire that warms us and the water that cleanses us, I promise to cherish and stand by you, always.”

You shared ale, drunk from the quaich cup, to represent your joining of families, Kid placed the wood and resin band on your finger, pulling a sweet laugh from your lips, and the druid continued.

“By the power vested in me by ancient traditions, I pronounce you husband and wife. May your love be as enduring as the mountains, as deep as the lochs and as eternal as the stars. You may share your first kiss as a wedded couple. May your journey be blessed with joy.”

The piper started a happy jig, the crowd cheered loudly, Killer, Kid's best friend proclaimed loudly that he was very proud of his found brother because he had no faith in him memorising his vows and he had proved him wrong.

You and Kid pressed your lips together in a slow, tender kiss, as he wrapped his arm around you and lifted you easily, so he didn't have to bend down to deepen the kiss. The kiss broke but your foreheads pressed together. “You and me, Kid.”

“Me and ya, lass.”

“I love you forever…” You started.

“And always.” He finished.

These vows were meant only for your ears. They were private, personal and meant everything.

-*-

The party had been moved to the village where tables of food and ale had been set up. Children ran around, screaming and laughing, chasing Heat, one of Kid's closest friends, who laced a garland of ivy around his hair for them to try and grab. Yet every time one of the children came close, Heat jumped and they squealed in pleasure and mirth.

The piper had been joined by a fiddler, a drummer and a flautist, performing jigs and ballads for everyone's enjoyment. Now and then, a friend joined them to sing a few songs. You and Kid spent your time receiving the well-wishes of your friends and dancing.

Killer had pulled you into a lively reel, the drummer banging the stretched sheep skin with vigour, making you bounce and laugh as sweat poured from your temples. Your legs nearly gave out from the laughter and exertion and he had to pull you up by the arms to keep you from falling to the ground. Kid appeared to save you and you laughed harder as Killer grabbed Kid's hands and started to dance the reel with him.

It was the happiest day of your life.

Before the song ended, however, the sound of a loud trumpet being played - a small fanfare to gather attention - made everyone present turn towards the sound. A retinue of horses with guards came marching down the hill. Blackbeard, the laird, travelling in the middle, using a horse as black as night, a mighty stallion with an imposing trot.

“What does he want?” Killer muttered to Kid, who had turned his grin into a grimace the moment the fanfare started to play. Heat and Wire ran to their side, passing them their weapons and you stiffened.

“Your axe, Kid, really?”

Kid grumbled and pushed you behind him in a protective stance.

“My, my, my. A wedding!” Blackbeard grinned and clapped his hands while looking around. “Beannaichte ur pòsadh. Blessed be your marriage.” The people of the community whispered and stared, an uneasiness in the air that you couldn't quite place, though it was clear that the new laird was disliked and if it was clear to you, it was crystal-clear to him.

“You're the groom?” He nodded towards Kid as his men scattered around the people in an imposing manner. The scowls on Kid’s face and those of his men deepened.

“Aye.” Kid's dark red kilt was secured with wildflowers - primroses - so it was easy to tell.

“May I meet the lovely bride?” The saccharine sweetness of his voice almost made you nauseous and Kid grunted, opening his mouth to bark a resounding no, but you didn't want him to cause any trouble, so you stepped from behind him.

“Good to meet you, my laird.” You said, meeting his dark gaze. Kid's arm pulled you to him as his fingers pressed into your skin possessively.

Blackbeard hummed appreciatively as his eyes raked over your body and Kid growled. “Well, I have come to let you all know that there is a new marriage fee you must pay your clan chieftain - me - and it is effective immediately.” He barked a ridiculous amount at Kid and you gasped.

“We don't have that kind of money! Nor do we have goods to cover it.”

“We just paid yer raised fees, not two days ago! There's not enough time to make more money yet.” Kid said while your friends and family agreed.

The laird’s laughter started low. A rumble coming from his belly and then emerging in waves from his mouth, leaving spit on his coarse beard.

“That's your problem, lads.” He cackled as Kid’s hand gripped the axe’s handle and you gasped, lacing your arm in his, trying to prevent him from acting irrationally. “Yet, I am merciful and lenient. I am willing to forget the fees, this time.”

You sighed in relief, a tired smile forming on your lips, but Kid sensed something was wrong as he became as stiff as a board.

“I will instead reinstate my right to prima nocta - first night - with your lovely bride, here.” Your breath caught in your throat, a shiver raising the hairs on your body. There was a lightness in your head that almost made you dizzy, yet you had no time to worry about yourself as Kid was already readying his battle axe, fire burning in his eyes.

“No, no! Kid, stop! Kill, help!” You turned to Killer, who grabbed his arm to hold him back, and then Heat placed another arm on Kid’s chest to stop him from advancing.

The laird’s rumbling laugh had turned into a taunting cackle. “Why are you so angry, young lad? It's just one night. She will be all yours again tomorrow. I'll just have her this once.”

Why was he taunting Kid?

“Kid, look at me!” You pleaded, arms stretched so you could hold his face, trying to get him to look at you, but he was undeterred.

“Like fuck ya will! Over my dead body and burned bones! And even then, I'll haunt yer arse!” Kid’s voice was dangerously low, a vicious snarl in his tone as he kept pacing, dragging both Killer and Heat, his muscles flexing and veins popping.

“Stop, Kid, stop!” You urged as the laird’s men dismounted their horses and you knew that if Kid attacked him, he would be killed for treason.

“Wire!” Killer called and the tallest of Kid's friends wrapped his elbow around Kid's neck and pulled hard, slowing his approach.

“Impressive display. Lass, come.” Blackbeard said as his men approached you and Kid roared, Killer being dragged as he tried to raise his axe.

“Wait!” You screamed, shoving one of the guards and placing yourself in front of Kid, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. At this moment you were fearful for him and for what he would do, not for what awaited you. “Kid, Kid!” You urged. “My love…”

Your sob made his gaze waver and he stopped, looking down at your figure, his face distorted with rage and pain.

“Let him go.” You whispered to his friends and they heeded you, though they stood close, apprehension written on their faces. Clutching the strap of his kilt and pulling him down, your fingers dug into his chest.

“Kid… I'll be alright. I promise. I'm strong. It's okay.” You kept trying to pull his face to you, but his eyes kept darting towards the laird and flashing with anger. “Hold me, please.” Another sob left your parted lips and, with a heavy sigh and a grunt, Kid dropped his axe, his arm enveloping you and lifting you up.

Pressing your foreheads together, you cupped his face in your hands. “It's you and me, Kid.”

He shook his head. “No, no. I won't let this happen! He can't do this, I'll have his head on a spike!” His roar made his chest tremble and you settled one of your hands above his heart.

“This is happening, Kid. We can't do anything to stop it.”

“I can slice him in two!” He spat the angry words between his teeth.

“You won't. I won't lose you. It's just one night. I’ve got this.” Kid continued to grumble and you could sense rage and anger spewing out of him in hot waves. “You will not think about me tonight. You can't do that.”

His pained wail told you that it was exactly what he was thinking about. About another man's hands on you, another man's lips. And you knew how jealous and possessive he could be and how this would drive him insane. So you pressed your lips against his, tethering him back to reality, to you.

“It's you and me, Kid.”

He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, his hand gripping your waist so hard that you knew he would leave marks and bruises.

“Kid… say it. It's you and me!” You whined, tears streaming down your face.

“It… It’s me and ya, lass…”

His voice was barely audible, but you took whatever he gave you.

“I love you forever…”

Kid's silence nearly broke you as you saw him stifle a sob. You could sense him tensing his muscles to stop from heaving and you knew for sure that once you left he would be breaking a lot of things.

“Kid…”

“And always…” He finished.

You nodded, shaking your head to drive away the wetness of your tears. Then you circled your arms around his neck, losing yourself in his kiss, turning sorrow into promises of a brighter tomorrow and the beginning of your lives together, with the possibility of leaving this hindrance behind.

He set you down again, and without taking your eyes off his gaze, you made a plea. “Kill, Heat, Wire, please, please, don't let him do anything rash.” The snarl that left Kid's mouth was a warning. Either to the laird and his men, or to his own men. He should be left alone for the remainder of the night.

Inhaling deeply you gave him another peck on the lips and turned to walk away from him. But his hand grasped your wrist firmly, fingers clenching, tighter and tighter in a fierce grip. He did not want to let you go. You knew deep down that this man, your husband, would rather die than let you go. “Kid,” you pleaded. “I want to have a life with you, you cannot get yourself killed today. I vowed my lifetime to you. You vowed the same. Fulfil it.”

Lacing your tone with authority you did not have and courage you did not possess, you hoped that tugging at his heartstrings could do the trick.

Your wrist hung loosely after he opened his hand and you walked towards the laird’s horse, without sharing another glance with your husband, for you knew if you looked into those raging orange eyes, you would not be able to leave him behind, and he would die protecting you.

A guard hoisted you onto his horse and, as you were leaving the village, your heart ached with the rage-filled roar that filled the air, turning sleeping birds into a frenzy and shaking the very leaves of the trees.

-*-

You were intent on distancing yourself from the moment when the laird took you. You focused on your wedding, on your husband, on the moments you shared with Kid and on your future. Especially your future.

How cute would it be if there were a tiny baby with flaming red hair on your husband's very large shoulders? Or a beautiful little girl, swearing as loudly as Kid, but as beautiful as you?

These were the thoughts you meant to focus on when the time arrived. And this anticipation was driving you crazy. The laird had sent you dinner but you barely ate. You just wanted to get this over with. So you could go back to Kid.

How broken he must be feeling now. You could barely imagine his hurt and pain.

Suddenly the door to the chamber they had placed you in opened and Blackbeard came forward, clad in only a linen tunic, his sickly grin in place, sending shivers down your spine.

“Ah, there you are lass.”

Gritting your teeth you held back a snarky reply. Where else were you supposed to be if not here? Perhaps by your husband's side, as you were meant to be?

He sat on the bed and patted the place next to him softly, but you stayed near the window, where you had been staring before he arrived. You wondered if Kid was watching the same sky as you or if he was simply staring at the bottom of a mug, ale filling his belly.

“Sit, lass.” He commanded. You had the urge to ignore his order, to rebel against him as you and Kid could not in the village. Yet, you didn't want to make things harder on yourself, so you took two strides and sat further from him than he intended.

“You are a very pretty little thing.” approaching, he placed his stumpy fingers on your leg. The laird started to crumple the dress in them, making it ride up, and you closed your eyes. It was about to start. You prayed to the old gods and the new that he would be fast and get this over with. So you could go home.

To your home.

To Kid.

Thinking about your husband brought out a sob and a heave and you could barely contain the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You could bet he was feeling devastated by now, just willing the night to pass so he could see you again.

The laird misinterpreted your tears. He chuckled softly and started to coo at you, his heavy hand tracing circles on your back in what was meant to be a soothing motion. “Hush, little lass, all is well. I will be very gentle with you. A sweet little thing, being touched for the first time…”

You snorted as a mocking laugh escaped your lips without your permission. You were too consumed by your own pain to stop it and now it was too late.

“Something funny?” The soothing motions stopped abruptly. Yes, something was funny. Touched for the first time? Gentle? You just wanted to cackle in his face like a wild banshee.

“No, my laird.” You said humbly, though, but he didn't buy your innocent act.

“You don't want me to be gentle? Or is it not your first time?” Your eyes remained fixed on the floor. There was a crack in it, a big one.

“Yes, my laird. I want you to be gentle.” You could not confess that it was your first time, as you would not bleed, and he would be able to tell.

“Yet it is not your first time? Little whore.” He grumbled as he pushed you by the shoulders and you fell onto the bed. “I'll give you something to play with, then.” His whole demeanour changed and you realised he had been excited by the fact that you were a virgin, now that he knew you were not, it seemed as if he was turned off.

He removed his tunic and barked at you to move to the centre of the bed, which you did. All the while repeating in your head that it would soon be over.

Soon.

“Take off your clothes, whore.” You started to undo the straps of your dress, but he did not have the patience to wait. He reached over and, with both hands, ripped your beautiful wedding dress to pieces.

“No! My dress!” You whined. You had meant to cherish it, perhaps pass it on to a child someday in the future. Yet now it was unsalvageable. He couldn't care less about your protests as he did the same to your chemise. The lump in your throat made it hurt and burn as you kept your sobs trapped, not willing to give him the satisfaction of your misery.

“Poor whore. I'll make you forget your dress and your husband!” He then removed his undergarments, revealing his hard cock for you to behold. This time you did not stop the cackle that bubbled up your throat. You felt hurt and dejected and could no longer contain your fiery nature.

“You'll have no chance to make me forget my husband with that tiny little thing, my laird.” The curl of your lip was quickly erased as he slapped your face with the back of his hand, making you gasp and taste blood from biting your tongue.

“You'll learn your manners, whore, and when I return you to your husband, you'll be a submissive little bitch. He'll thank me in the end.”

There went your chance to have this night pass by quickly. You had made the laird mad, and now you were going to pay dearly for it. You should've just kept your mouth shut. But you had to be stubborn and wild. All the qualities your husband loved about you.

This time you made no effort to hide the tears, though it was very hard to focus your thoughts elsewhere. The laird did not strike your face again, yet he left markings all over your body. Bruises, bites, scratches and even some cuts. It wasn't the pain that was making you cry. Not even when he took you by force after inflicting all that pain. It was the fact that you knew Kid would be devastated when he saw you. And you could not hide these bruises from him.

He would demand blood.

And you feared that his would be the one to be spilled.

-*-

The laird had spent the entire night with you. You were lucky he barely had the stamina to get his cock up twice, but he continued your physical abuse in other painful ways. You would be scarred. Mind and body, and he had made sure of that. Just because you couldn't keep your mouth shut and told him he had a small dick.

You had been dumped outside the keep with a tunic and your shredded clothes. No one took you back to the village so you were left to walk the distance that separated it. Luckily, it wasn't that far and you reached it before mid-morning. Your whole body ached and you craved to cleanse yourself by the lake, letting it soak and soothe in the icy-cold waters.

But you needed to go to Kid, first. And that thought was making you both miserable and excited.

You entered through the south side of the village, hoping to find Killer first - since he was usually stationed there - and you breathed a relieved sigh when you saw his golden mane in the distance.

“Kill!” You urged with a whisper. He, a trained warrior, heard you immediately and rushed to meet you.

“You're not on a horse? You came on foo-... What the fuck is that on your face?” His voice dropped dangerously low, and you flinched. If this was Killer's reaction to the bruise on your jaw, how would your husband react?

“Kill…” You urged again, your filthy hands grasping at his, fear in your gaze and desperate pleas leaving your mouth. “Kill, please I need your help. You need to sedate Kid. Use nightshade in his ale, or the red-capped mushroom. Kill! Please.”

“That's not the only bruise, is it?” You could practically sense the murderous vibes seething through his body. Of course he would guess why you wanted to sedate and placate Kid.

So you shook your head, confirming his fears.

“Fucker!” He growled and you flinched again, your nails still digging into his hands.

“Killer.” You begged, tears in your eyes and a grimace turning your lips down. “If he's reactive when he sees me… Kill, he'll want to hunt for blood. And the laird will kill him!” Sobs climbed up your throat in ragged breaths. “I can't lose him! I can't! I refuse.”

Killer sighed as he wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you into his embrace, his face brushing against your hair. You winced at the touch because you were very sensitive due to some bruises, but it was comforting and you cried into his chest.

“I'll go do it.” Killer sighed and patted your hair softly. “We can sedate him as much as you want, but he's still going to kill the bastard. You can't sedate him forever.”

A glimmer of hard resolution made your eyes shine. “Just watch me, then.” Even if you had to spike every meal your husband had until his rage receded, you would do it. You would stop him from getting himself killed.

You just couldn't lose him.

-*-

Kill made good on his promise and after a while he came back saying that Kid was sleeping heavily on your shared bed. The bed you hadn't yet shared, actually.

You thanked Kill when he brought you a dress and decided, since Kid was fast asleep, to take a quick dip in the lake to scrub off most of the dirt and dried blood. Maybe the coolness of the lake would also help soothe some of the worst bruises.

It didn't.

Yet you were now cleaner and more presentable and Kid was probably still asleep, so you trekked home, trying to avoid most of the people because you simply didn't want to either answer questions or endure their pity. You made a quick stop by your garden, harvested a handful of yarrow and another of knitbone, and sped through the door.

As soon as you entered your home, you were overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity. You could hear Kid’s loud snores, his axe was by the mantle, your herbs and vegetables tucked neatly in the kitchen, and the musky scent of your husband’s sweat from the tunic draped across one of the chairs, almost brought tears to your eyes.

But you shook your head and with it the feelings too. You still had some things to do before Kid started to rouse and you had to get to it. Opening jars that were lined up perfectly across the mantle, you found the one you were looking for: honey. Then, quickly, you chopped the leaves from the knitbone and crushed the yarrow into a bowl and added the honey to create a sticky poultice which you applied to your bruises and cuts, hoping against all hope that it would accelerate the healing. Most of the bruises were covered by your dress, but there was nothing that could be done about the one on your face.

So, you covered the rest of the mixture for later use and went about staging your wonderful performance: you turned a chair upside down and broke a leg for good measure, then threw the wooden bowls and dishes to the floor to make a ruckus and break some, faking a loud wail and sprawling on the floor as if you had fallen from the chair.

Kid drowsily blinked his eyes as he stirred in bed. As soon as his foggy eyes fixed on yours, he rose, placed his hand on his forehead and slumped back down again.

“Lass! Fucking headache!” He cursed loudly as he shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. “Yar back! Fucking arse! I should not have drunk this much. For fuck’s sake.”

He finally got up as you hissed and pretended to be hurt in places where you knew you already had bruises, and when he knelt next to you, it was with a loud thump of his knees and a string of curses.

“Ya fell?” He asked as he looked you over, eyes still very glassed over as he blinked to try to regain his focus. You kept trying to turn your head so he couldn't see the bruise.

“I did. But I'm fine. I might bruise, though. It hurt.” You winced as you pressed your hands over your chest.

“What's this?” His palm pressed against the bruise on your face and you clenched your teeth at the small pressure.

“Oh, I hit my face on the floor.” You said with a shrug, setting your hand over his to reassure him.

“Lass, yar lying. This bruise is purple already. It wasn't made just now.”

His voice was laced with worry, anger, curiosity and a hint of protectiveness. So you needed to steer him away from it. Fast.

Wincing, you sat on his knees, legs apart as you took his face in your hands. Pressing your forehead against his, you smiled softly. “I missed you, my love. So, so much.”

He tried to stay angry at you, to keep the scowl on his face and you were sure he still wanted to press you about the bruise on your face. But it was a sigh that met your ears, a deep relieved sigh as his hand climbed from your waist to your neck. His fingers entwined with your hair as he pulled you to him in a kiss full of longing and yearning.

You ignored the pain in your bruised jaw as your lips parted to allow him entry. You brushed away the wince you meant to utter as Kid’s fingers tugged your hair a little harder, your scalp still too tender and sore from the laird’s rough handling.

But you could not ignore the way Kid's love and hunger were making your heart melt and heat pool in your abdomen. What you also couldn’t ignore, was the fact that he wanted you now. And that couldn’t happen because he would see all the bruises.

“My love,” You said, parting with the kiss. “I really hurt myself when I fell. I'm going to apply some poultice I was making to my knees and chest and we'll continue this later.” You pecked his nose with your lips and got up, leaving him no choice but to watch you go, a slight pout on his lips.

It was a great fortune that he was still heavily drugged and relaxed, or he would've noticed something wasn't right as you never refused him. He mumbled some annoyed words and lay back on your shared bed, restarting his snoring immediately.

You could do this. He would be fine. You would be fine. Everything would be fine.

|Part 2|

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