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Beauty and the Beast	By : QueenB Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4548 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author: Queen Boadicea
Email: queenboadiceaoftheiceni@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to the great and powerful Joss and the usual gang of idi…uh, geniuses.
Spoiler Warning: None
Feedback: Do your worst—it can’t compare to my worst ;)
Pairing: Riley/Liam, Riley/OC

“The energy which makes a child hard to manage is the energy which afterward makes him a manager of life.” - Henry Ward Beecher (1813 - 1887), Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit (1887)
Never let it be said that Mr. Charles Finn didn’t care for his children. He loved them dearly, as much as any father could love his offspring. After the sadness that afflicted his middle years, it might even be said that he clung a little too closely to them.
His father had been a sheep farmer like his father before him and Charlie hadn’t really thought much about the world beyond the pen around the woolly creatures he’d tended. Then, one day in church, he’d glanced up and brown eyes had met the steady hazel gaze of Mary O’Connell.
Mary’s family had been landed gentry. Not nobility to be sure, but the closest thing to it this part of the world knew. They lived in a manor on a high tor just north of the village proper. It was rumored they had fireplaces in every room and servants that did nothing but carry towels.
Mr. Charlie Finn hadn’t noticed Mary before that moment. Until then, she’d been nothing but an awkward wisp of a girl with straw-colored hair, gangly knees and washed-out skin. But her parents had sent her away to be finished, whatever that meant, and, when she came back three years later, she was a golden-haired beauty with beaming, changeable eyes that could be the color of a shining, green meadow one moment or the sea during a storm the next. That last description was a bit of fancy on his part. The young Finn had never seen the ocean, only pictures of it. But he imagined his Mary’s eyes were that color, especially when she was angry.
For her part, Mary O’Connell had been equally ignorant of Charlie’s existence. She hadn’t been vain before her parents sent her away; she had known ever since she was two that her older sisters were the lookers in the family and had resigned herself to being married to some lesser lord or other who’d take her for her money. She hadn’t even thought to rebel against such a dreary fate-until the moment her eyes landed on one Charles Finn.
She’d scanned the lower pews from the upper heights of the church and her gaze had caught those of one surprised sheep farmer. Her radiant hazel eyes had encountered his startled brown ones and the sparks had flown between them. After that Charles could think of nothing except that lush blonde beauty and how to make her his own. The whispered taunts from his friends that she was a star out of his reach had fallen on deaf ears.
Meeting clandestinely night after night had flamed their fledgling desire into a grand passion. The daunting difference between their stations should have mattered to Mary O’Connell. But it hadn’t. Yet she had been shrewd beyond her years, pointing out how her parents never would agree to the match. So they had to be cunning, patient and careful. Waiting until she was of age, they bided their time and then Charles Finn had exchanged Claddagh rings with her and consummated their union. In the grand old Irish tradition, that meant they were well and truly married.
There was a ferocious uproar on all sides when the marriage was made known. The Finns had wanted nothing to do with these sneering, arrogant people who swore Mary was too good for the likes of their son. For their part, the O’Connells had wanted the marriage immediately annulled. But Mary was of legal age to be wed and unexpectedly fierce in her determination to stay with the man of her choice. After many bitter recriminations from both sides, the O’Connells were forced to back down in the face of their daughter’s obvious resolve to remain Charles’s wife.
So they had retaliated in the only way they knew how. They had vowed to cut the girl off without so much as a shilling. If the upstart Mr. Charles Finn had married her for her considerable dowry, then he was to be sorely disappointed. All the monies they’d set aside for their errant daughter would to go the church upon their deaths. None of it would do their wayward, foolish daughter or her uncouth, unwashed lout of a husband any good.
The young Mr. Finn had claimed to all who would listen that he didn’t care about the money. But he’d privately sworn in his heart he would build himself up and rise in station by sheer force of will until there could be no shame in having the O’Connell girl as his wife. He held himself as proudly as any man. But the cruel slurs and insults of the O’Connells continued to rankle him even almost two decades after the storm attending his marriage to Mary.
Perhaps that why he was harder than he should have been on his only son.
“Where do ya think yer goin’?”
Riley gritted his teeth. He’d hoped to slip unnoticed from the house. His hunting skills allowed him to get close to game; evidently they still needed work where angry fathers were concerned.
“Ya know where I’m goin’. Out huntin’ with Michael and Gavrin.” He picked up his crossbow and arrows, surveying them quickly for any frayed strings or notched heads.
“That’s twice this week! Surely they can go without ye! The sheep need tendin’...”
A scowl marred the boy’s handsome face. “The girls can deal with that. Ye don’ need me and ye know it.”
His father stepped in front of him, blocking his path. At 19 years old, Riley towered over his father by about six inches. But Mr. Charles Finn was a husky man and wasn’t afraid to bring his muscle to bear if he thought his stubborn son needed it. “With all the sheep that have been born this year, the girls aren’t goin’ to be enow and ye know it.”
The last thing Riley wanted was a fight with his father. He was all too aware of his duty. But they seemed to be having this conversation more and more often these days and it always led nowhere. He was fairly certain he wasn’t cut out to be a sheep farmer. Try telling that to a Finn as hardheaded as his da.
“Da, it’s nae for me and ye know it. I know ye’ve got ambitions-”
“Any man worth his salt has ambitions, the wish to see his family bettered and comfortable in the world! Yer the only one I know that doesn’t give a shilling’s worth about it!”
“Maybe dat’s because it’s not what I want! It’s what you want, not me!” Riley stepped around his father and scooted towards the door. The older man gripped his arm and dragged him back. Riley’s face grew stormy at the vicious gesture and a muscle bunched in his jaw. More and more, he thought the day was coming when he and his da would come to blows and he didn’t know whether he could hold back or not; he knew his father wouldn’t.
“Yer not leavin’ until ye’ve agreed to do yer duty.”
Riley twisted out of the older man’s grip. “I am! I don’t go huntin’ for sport! I put meat on the table!”
“Meat we could get from the butcher’s!”
“Do the butchers bring in fresh rabbit and deer as I do? This way we don’ have to pay for it.”
“Money’s not a problem for us, Riley, and ye know it. Now that Gavrin, his family’s the one that’s needin’ the meat, what with them being as poor as church mice.” He shook his head in mock pity. “It’s hard on them, livin’ on that stony land and with nine sons to feed and clothe. Now there’s people who have to grub for everything.”
“Don’t complain, da. Ye like havin’ fresh venison on the table. Ma’s certainly not minding it.”
“She wouldn’t,” his father grunted. “Venison, beef, mutton: it’s all one ta me.”
“Then why this push to get more for yerself if the simple ways suit ye so well?”
“Because simple’s not enow, not any more. We’ve had a good year what with all the ewes birthin’ one or more lambs. We can sell them for more than a fair profit and buy that land I’ve been eyein’.” He rubbed his hands together.
“Yer still on about buyin’ that land? We don’ need it and it’ll be more hassle than it’s worth. Ye’ll have to hire men just to tend and oversee it.”
“Not if ye pitch in for once and do yer share!” Charles ground out.
“But why? For the love of God will ye explain to me why this ambition of yers, da? We’ve got plenty, me and the three girls. Why must there always be more?”
“So those wretched people yer mother came from can never point to me again and say yer ma married beneath her when she wed me. I’m going to do right by her, Riley. Ye just wait and see.” Bitterness and greed welled in his eyes as he became lost in his fantasies of his future rich life.
Riley averted his gaze from the familiar expression and turned to go. Mr. Finn seemed to realize he was losing him for he raised his voice at his son’s retreating back. “Riley, I know what yer thinkin’.”
“No, da, ya really don’t.”
“Yes, I do! It’s not greed that’s at work here.”
“Ya could have fooled me,” the boy muttered under his breath. He was making his way to the stable where his favorite horse was tethered even as his father trailed behind him.
“I want only the best things for ye, the girls and yer ma, so that she need never regret having married me.”
“She regrets nothin’, da. She loves ya for yerself alone. That’s why she married ye, isn’t it?”
“I know that, trust me, I do. But...”
“Forget it, da.” Riley swung up on Cuchulainn, Cullen for short, and began trotting him briskly down the pathway. “It’s not ma who’s wantin’ the wealth here. Don’ lay that failin’ at her door.”
“The only one who’s failin’ is you! Ya don’ have any ambition. Ya think there’s summat to be proud of, killin’ God’s creatures as ye do?”
“Beats grubbin’ for money!” This time Riley didn’t bother to lower his voice. Slapping the reins on Cullen’s neck, he galloped down the road, blotting out the sound of his father’s anger as he rode. Mr. Finn stared after him in impotent fury before stamping back to the house.
“Da, are you and Riley fightin’ again?” A small girl, only eight years old, gazed up at him from troubled gray eyes. Elizabeth stood near her mother’s skirts as she stared up at her father.
He did his best to sound unconcerned; he didn’t want his tiniest little girl to concern herself about her older brother. “It’s nothin’ to fret yerself about, darlin’. Have ye finished yer chores?”
Mary Finn spoke up for her. “Aye, she’s plucked all the dirty bits from the wool, just as you asked. Darla is out tending to the sheep and Cordelia finished washing up the last of the dishes.”
“Then maybe ye should go upstairs and play with yer toys until the other girls get back.”
“I want to wait here for Riley.” Elizabeth doted on her brother in a way that only younger sisters could. He would swing her around and toss her into the air from his considerable height and tell her spooky stories of the woods and the animals that lived there. He also told her of sprites, elves and the sidhe that supposedly haunted some of the shadowy places. At eight years old, she was beginning to suspect he was making it up about the old spirits but she didn’t care. Riley was her favorite sibling and she wasn’t going to let her father keep him from her.
“Ya know how Riley gets when he’s huntin’, lass. He could be gone for hours. Just go on upstairs. If he comes back soon, I’ll tell ya, first thing.”
“Promise?”
“Aye. As God is my witness, I do.”
Satisfied with his word, she scampered back upstairs. Mary watched her husband with an amused smile. “He’s right, you know.”
He wanted to sidestep the upcoming conversation. They’d had it before and he wasn’t in the mood to go over old ground. “Mary, you shouldn’t be up. Remember what the doctor said.”
“I’m not going to lie abed all day. It drives me mad, Charles, and you know it.” Nevertheless, she accepted his arm gratefully as she leaned against his shoulder.
Charles lowered her into a nearby chair and sat in the one beside her. “Still, Mary, you know this birthing isn’t going as easy as the others.”
She sniffed. “Oh, the others were easy, were they? I’d like to see you go through childbirth just once, Charles Finn. Let’s see how easy you’d think it then.”
“No, thanks. God left childbearing to women for a reason.”
“Because we’re stronger,” she retorted gaily. Then she sobered. “About Riley...”
“Don’ talk to me about him,” he groused. “He’s a rare thorn in me side and no mistake.”
“He’s no such thing. He’s not the trouble to you that other men’s sons are, is he? He doesn’t drink, gamble or whore your money away as some do. He’s merely trying to find his way in the world.” She paused. “And you may just have to accept that he already knows what it is.”
“A hunter? As if ye couldn’t get good fare at the butcher’s. Nae, I need a man about here to carry on the family name and tradition!”
“He’s got your name; that won’t change, husband.”
“But the sheep farming-that can’t be left solely to the girls no matter what he says.”
“Why not? Is tending sheep so very hard? Women do it all the time. I did it too for a while.”
“And a right fine mess ye made of it.” When she frowned, he amended his words hastily. “Ye gave it a good try, me love. Make no mistake. It’s just not something a person decides he can do one day simply by pickin’ up a crook and trampin’ into the fields.”
She tossed her head, annoyed at the reminder of her old failure. “I didn’t do so badly! After all these years, you’d think you could forget it!”
“The whole flock was scared of ye, darling. I’ve no idea why. Yer the sweetest, kindest woman alive. But they wouldn’t mind ye and ran all over the place. If I hadn’t had one of the local lads watchin’-
“Oh, so that’s how the sheep came to be back in the pen! You told me they’d come home on their own!” she accused.
“Only because I didn’t want to hurt yer feelings, me bonny girl.”
She scowled, then sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I wasn’t cut out for sheep farming. But neither is Riley.”
The mention of his son made him mulish again. “That’s a different story. He’ll have to force himself to it. The sheep aren’t afeared of him; he’s just stubborn and lazy.”
“He’s not lazy. He’s a fine, patient hunter. You can’t bring in such game as he does by being lazy.”
“Nevertheless, he doesn’t need to hunt! He’s not like that Gavrin friend of his. His family needs the meat. Lord knows how they’d get through the winters if he wasn’t trackin’ and storin’ up the venison during the whole of the summer months. But our Riley doesn’t need to do that. We’re well enough off so that he could stay home and mind the family trade if he chose.”
“He doesn’t want to do that, Charles, and you can’t choose his life for him. If our lives could be chosen by our parents, I’d never had married you.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No?” She pulled at his hand, squeezing it lightly to arrest his attention. “He’s so much like you.” An incredulous snort greeted this statement. “He is, though, like it or not. He’s stubborn, willful, determined to push his way into the world beckoning to him.”
“Sure he doesn’t get such qualities from his mother?” He grinned cheekily at her, revealing the boyish charm that had won her heart so many years ago.
“Flattery will get you no-oh!” She sucked in a sharp breath and placed her hand at her side.
“What is it? Mary?” The whiteness of her face scared him.
“I-I don’t know.” A spasm rippled through her body and he saw her shudder. “Oh, god!” She slumped against him and Charles stared into her face helplessly as she began to cry and shiver. “G-get the doctor. Oh, Charles, I think it’s the baby...”
__________
Gavrin and Michael were waiting for Riley down at the bottom of the path. Michael smirked at the dark cloud on his friend’s face. “Yer da giving ye a hard time of it, has he, Riley?”
“It’s naught to concern yerself.” Riley didn’t want to discuss any of his personal business with Michael. The man was a born yammerer with a tongue hinged in the middle and wagging at both ends. His friends joked he should have been a preacher what with his tendency to gab. It’d be all over the town before daybreak about his latest row with his da if he let Michael in on it.
Gavrin said nothing only shot Riley a sympathetic look. The quietest of the pair, Riley preferred it when it was just he and Gavrin in the woods together. For Gavrin hunting was a matter of life and death so he took his hunting far more seriously. There was no nonsense or idle chatter from him.
But lately Riley thought there was a strange shift in Gavrin’s behavior. Since he’d turned 19, Riley had caught the brown-haired lad more than once staring at him with a curious, burning concentration in his look. The slight boy--no, man, for he was a full three years Riley’s senior although the gravity of his presence often made him appear far older than his few years--often appeared on the verge of speech but bit his tongue as if unsure of his reception.
Riley didn’t know what to make of it. He only knew Gavrin wanted summat from him. He just didn’t know what.
Riley dismissed the troubling thoughts from his mind and rode without a word beside the others. They reached the woods without incident and then slid from their horses. Cullen nosed Riley’s shoulder and he patted the roan stallion affectionately. As usual, he regretted leaving him behind but at least he’d have the other mounts for company.
Notching their arrows, the lads separated slightly, moving through the trees with practiced stealth. Michael came upon traces of rabbit scat. But he dismissed them, since they were all after bigger game. Then he noticed something on the forest floor that made his eyes widen. “Lads!” he hissed.
The others turned their heads toward the low sound. Gavrin seemed to flow quickly and easily from one tree to the next and then appeared next to him. “What is it?” he whispered, his lips barely moving.
“Look at dat.” Michael pointed towards the ground and the others squinted. There were faint traces in the leaves, too slight for anyone but the most skilled of hunters to have made out.
Gavrin kneeled and scanned the marks with keen-eyed intensity. “Boar,” he stated succinctly.
“Aye! I haven’t had boar’s meat in ages!” Michael’s eyes gleamed and he licked his lips in anticipation.
“And boar’s best hunted with dogs and more company than we’ve got here. They’re ornery, cursed mean creatures,” Gavrin replied. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees. “We should leave and come back with more people.”
“And have to split the kill? Not a chance,” Michael hissed back.
Riley knew how impetuous Michael could be and did his best to talk sense into him. “Gavrin’s right and he knows more about this than you. Boars are dangerous; they’ve got a vicious streak a league wide. We need the hounds to track them and bring them down. They’re not as easy prey as deer, Michael, and ye know it.”
“Yer a pair of cowards, ye know that? There’s three of us and we’re the best huntsmen in these parts.”
“Two of us at any route,” Riley smirked.
It was the wrong thing to say. Michael glared at him. “I’ll match meself against ya any day of the week. I’m going after that boar and I’ll bring him down, see if I don’t.”
Gavrin reached out and snagged his arm before he could stalk off and leave them. “No, Michael, it’s too dangerous for just us. Ya go by yerself, it’ll be the boar bringin’ you down.”
Michael tried to shrug off the smaller man’s arm. But Gavrin was stronger than he looked and his tenacious grip didn’t loosen. “What’re ye gonna do, then? Drag me back by the heels?”
Gavrin stared at him and then grunted, releasing his arm. “Nae. I’m just tryin’ to talk sense. We can’t do this-”
“Ye can’t do this. I’m going. Ye can join me or not.” Michael spun on his heel and took off into the gathering gloom. Gavrin and Riley exchanged irritated looks. Without another word, they brought up their weapons and stalked silently after him.
The boar took another two hours or so of tracking before they spotted him rooting in the undergrowth. The hoof prints he’d left had grown steadily clearer, causing Gavrin and Riley mounting worry. It was certain by the depth and length of the tracks that this was no small sow or half-grown porker. The boar was undoubtedly an imposing weight and the first sight of him confirmed their unease.
He must have run five feet from bristled snout to hairy tail and his humped back was at least four feet from the ground. Mean piggy eyes winked in the dying sunlight filtered from the trees as the striking tusks shifted with every movement from his mouth.
“Look at the size of him,” Riley muttered.
“Aye, he’s a splendid beastie and no mistake. The one who brings him down gets the best of the meat.” Michael brought his bow up until Riley reached out and gripped the handle.
The other man tried to jerk his weapon out of his grip only to have Riley tighten his grip on it--hard. He signaled for them to melt back into the trees, as far away from the animal’s hearing as they could go. “There’s no way the three of us can bring down that monster. Our wee bows will only enrage him. We forget this foolishness and come back another day with more men and yer dogs, Michael.”
“Not a chance, Finn. Ya think that boar’ll just wait here quietly like a girl bidin’ a suitor? We’ll lose him or we’ll have to split up the meat and I’m tellin’ ye I’m not willin’ to do that.”
Gavrin shrugged. “Don’ be a fool, Michael. Our arrows will tickle him and naught more. Even ye can see that. We’re not doing this and dat’s the end of it.” He turned without another word and began drifting in his silent way back through the trees, Riley following in his wake.
Michael stared, tight-lipped, at their retreating backs. “Suit yerselves.” Then he swung around, pointed his bow and let the arrow fly.
Gavrin turned at the first swish of the arrow. “Michael, ya big fool!” he yelled.
But the damage was done. The arrow buried itself in the pig’s side and the boar squealed in pain. The animal wheeled about, tiny reddened eyes spotting them from the clearing. The wedge-shaped head lowered itself and the beast charged them.
“Shit!” Riley flung himself against a tree and let one of his own arrows fly. He’d meant to hit the beast in the eye but it proved too difficult a target. Instead the bolt stuck into one of the creature’s cheeks. The second arrow only appeared to enrage the beast further and it let out a ferocious bellow.
The men turned to pelt towards the forest depths, hoping to outrun the creature. But the animal put on a burst of speed and bore down on the fleeing youths. Riley toppled as the boar lunged at him, the beast’s weight catching him about the legs. Hard hooves cut at Riley’s cowhide trousers but the tough material held. Then it lowered its head and hooked one of its tusks deep into the boy’s inner thigh and he screamed as the fearsome hook tore into his flesh.
“Riley!” Gavrin yelled. Riley couldn’t hear his friend’s cry above the searing agony in his leg. The boar ripped away and he dimly made out his own blood on the dirty ivory tusk. The foul breath of the creature poured over him, the flat eyes glaring with bestial fury. The animal’s weight collapsed onto his back and he passed out, sparing him the sight of his approaching death.
__________
“Help me shift this, ya bastard!” Gavrin panted, struggling to remove the carcass of the dead beast. His arrow had pierced one of the animal’s eyes and this had finished it at last. But now it lay across Riley’s torso, pinning him to the ground and cutting off his breathing.
“I’m trying! Fuck me, it’s a weight. It’s even heavier than I thought. It’s going to be hell getting this home.”
“Forget that! Riley’s been wounded. We have to help him or he’ll die. The cursed animal can wait.” They managed to push it off at last and Gavrin blanched at the red tide gushing out of Riley’s thigh. “Shit. He’s sore hurt. We’ll have to take care of him here.”
“Here?” Michael scanned the trees. “The blood’ll attract other animals and we’re down one hunter. I don’ fancy fending off wolves if they scent the boar.”
“Then I’ll tend to Riley. You skin the boar and bury the bones far from here.” Gavrin pulled off his pack. He always came prepared, even for this eventuality. He’d been injured himself of a times when he’d been hunting alone and knew it paid the careful tracker to have the necessary supplies. Clean, torn strips of cloth came out of his pack and he wadded up a few, stuffing them against the wound. “Hang on, Riley. I’ll take care of ye. Ye can count on me for that,” he whispered to the unconscious boy.
__________
Riley’s eyes fluttered open. There was a throbbing ache in his leg and for a moment he couldn’t recall what was causing it. Then the memories flooded him. The boar. The panicked flight through the woods. The creature pinning him to the ground. He groaned and tried to sit upright only to encounter a firm hand pressing him back onto the ground. “None of that, lad. Ye need to save yer strength.”
“W-what happened? The...boar?” The faintness of his own voice scared him.
“We brought it down, finally. Michael left me to tend ya. How do ya feel?”
“Like I’ve been gored by a boar.” Gavrin smiled at the raillery but made no further comment. Riley licked his lips. When he tried to talk again, Gavrin held up a hand.
“Don’ talk. We’re still in the woods. I didn’t want to move ye until yer wound stopped bleeding. We built a fire and a small shelter over ye.” Gavrin waved his hand upwards and Riley lifted his eyes. He could make out a roughhewn ceiling of slender branches arching over his head. Just beyond the opening was the flickering of a fire. He must have been out quite a while for them to manage all this without rousing him.
He listened but could hear nothing beyond the crackling of the fire. “Michael?”
“He took off to find help to drag yer oversized carcass back to civilization. Yer stuck with me for the time being, lad.”
“C-couldn’t ask for better company.” The words slipped from him before Riley could think. Actually, given Gavrin’s taciturn ways, he’d be better off with the trees if he wanted conversation. But right now there was no one else he’d rather stay with him. Gavrin crawled towards the small opening and Riley felt an absurd panic. “W-where are ya goin’?”
“Only to the fire. There’s summat I need to get ya.”
“Don’ be too long.” The other merely nodded and left the small space. Riley shut his eyes. The pain from his injury was demanding notice and he wanted to sleep through it if he could. But all too soon he was being nudged awake.
“Go away. Let a man die in peace,” he mumbled
“Nae. No dying yet.” The hand came back and he lifted his right to push against the intrusion. Suddenly he became aware of the smell of roasting meat. It had been there when they’d talked before but Riley’s tired mind hadn’t really grasped its importance. Now the scent filled his nose until it wiped out everything else in the world.
Riley opened his eyes to see Gavrin crouched before him. A simple wooden bowl was cupped in one calloused hand. The man wordlessly extended the bowl along with a carved spoon towards the prone boy. His mouth watering, he reached for the bowl. He shifted upwards slightly and gasped as pain flared from the movement. Gavrin tucked one arm around his broad shoulders, as far as he could with his lesser reach, and eased him to a sitting position. Finally, he was upright enough to eat without spilling the homemade stew.
The first mouthful was surprising, bringing with it more than a taste of game. There were spices and herbs in it, much like what he might have gotten at home. “Gavrin, ye sly dog. Ye’ve been holdin’ out on us. Where’d ye learn to cook like this?”
The slighter man shrugged, his brown eyes wandering to the fire. “Summat me gran taught me. She was full of woodlore, though she left the hunting to the men folk.”
“She could teach me ma a thing or two. Then again, mother left the cooking to the servants back before she married me da. She had to learn to do things all on her own once she married him. Guess she didn’t have the right teachers.” He wiped his lips on his sleeve and tucked into the meal again.
“The compliment’s much appreciated. If me gran were still alive, she’d be pleased.”
The bowl was finished all too quickly and Gavrin took it from him. Their fingers brushed and Riley was shocked at the flare of heat from that brief gesture. Something sparked in those odd, probing eyes and he knew Gavrin had felt it too. The man said nothing, however, going back outside to fetch more stew from the fire.
Riley tucked into the second bowl, pushing down the uneasy, breathless feeling welling inside him. “So Michael left the kill with ye, then?” He didn’t care one whit about Michael at the moment; it just seemed a safe topic for conversation.
“Most of it.”
Riley hurried to fill the gap. “But the kill belonged to whoever brought it down. I remember...he said that before the damned animal charged and I know he shot it. Don’ the spoils belong to him? I know I didn’t manage to kill it,” he finished ruefully.
“Nae. It was me what brought the monster down.”
“You? But...the beast was still alive when it hit me. I may be fuzzy around the edges but I recollect that.” He reached towards the bandage on his thigh, grimacing wryly at the thick feel of it under his fingers.
“That it was although yours was a good shot, considering the way the land lay. But I fired off me bow and got it in one of its eyes. It collapsed after that. Mayhap ye were...” Gavrin’s voice faltered and Riley thought he could detect fear in it. “Ye were out after that.”
There was nothing he could add to that and this time Riley ate in silence. It felt comfortable and uncomfortable by turns. Gavrin would look at him and then turn towards the lit branches outside as if trying to find the courage to speak. Riley almost dreaded what he was going to hear. But he was aware of the fleeting nature of these precious moments together as if something mystical were about to happen and they should make the most of the time.
“When yer on yer own as much as I am, cookin’ becomes a necessity.” The return to their earlier talk was a bit of a puzzlement and Riley couldn’t fathom why Gavrin would mention it.
“Yer on yer own? What about yer brothers and father?”
Gavrin shrugged. “They all hunt. But to them it’s about food on the table and nothin’ more. They spend the rest of their time hangin’ out with the farmers and tryin’ to pick up the local girls. Da’s got nine sons and he’s lookin’ to fix them up with wives. Says he’s tired of cleaning up our messes and livin’ with our stink.” Gavrin grinned. “I’m thinkin’ that some of the others’ll be obligin’ him soon enough. A few of ‘em have their eyes on a couple of the blacksmith’s daughters.”
“Michael’s sisters?” Gavrin nodded and Riley’s mind spun. He hadn’t thought about getting married although one of the things his father carped on about lately was him taking a wife, something he said a lot of boys his age did. He’d married Riley’s mother when he was younger than Riley and he wanted grandchildren almost as much as he craved land and fortune. “And you? Are ye thinkin’ of taking a wife?”
“Nae. The life I lead...it’s a bit too solitary. A woman would die of loneliness.”
“Aren’t ya ever lonely then?” Riley’s voice was softer; it had been steadily lowering itself to match Gavrin’s hushed tones.
Those brown eyes, almost black in the muted light, fastened on his. “I built meself a cabin in the woods. I go there for days to be alone and hunt without being distracted. It’s a splendid life with naught but the wind for music and the deer, wolves and sparrows to follow in their trails and naught but a man’s wits lying between him and a hard death.”
“But lonely.” This time Riley didn’t need to ask.
“Sometimes. But I’ve been thinkin’ how it would be if there were real company, company beyond that of animals who ignore me, run from me when I pursue ‘em or try to kill me.”
“But not a wife.”
“Nae, not a wife.” Gavrin became silent again. When he spoke once more, his eyes didn’t meet Riley’s and there was an exaggerated calm in his voice as if a response was no matter. “I was thinkin’, since yer on the outs with yer father and ye love the hunt so much, that ye might be wantin’ another place to stay. Just on occasion. When the home life got to be too much for ye. I built the cabin with two rooms, ya see, if anybody-I mean, a friend or such-ever decided to come and bide. For awhile. Or longer.”
This time the silence seemed deafening. Riley could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the wound in his thigh reawakening to new life and throbbing to match. The pain didn’t take him away from the unspoken question, only seemed to focus him on it. What if he’d been alone in the woods when the boar had attacked? Doubtless he would have avoided the beast and not gotten injured in the first place as he had been, thanks to that gormless git, Michael. But there were other injuries that lay in wait even for the most careful hunter.
He’d seen men attacked by bucks proving surprisingly violent when the hunters had mistaken them for dead or too wounded to fight. A man could fall in a river and drown or be caught off guard by a freak snowstorm or become feverish from an injury that turned septic. A man alone here could die any number of ways and none of them pleasant. No one might ever find his corpse.
And Gavrin was offering him...what? A home? Companionship? Something more? He didn’t want a wife and, come to think of it, Riley didn’t particularly want one either. He’d had women flirt with him and offer him kisses and grasping hugs. He’d even tumbled a couple although those had been more a matter of relief than personal affection. But there was always been something lacking as if he knew none of the lasses, no matter how bonny, could offer him the true fellowship he craved.
He studied the man and Gavrin’s eyes flicked away from his as if shy of his scrutiny. Gavrin had taught Riley everything he knew about wood lore and hunting but Riley knew there was a great deal more to be known. The other was willing to teach him all of that...and so much more if the Finn boy would let him. He could see it so easily, the two of them together, learning from each other, spending days and nights together. And what would the nights bring? What would he learn from Gavrin then?
Gavrin hadn’t moved nor spoken since his last words but coal black eyes were once again fastened upon Riley, pinning him to the ground. He was waiting for an answer and Riley thought he might wait all night for it if need be. That yearning he’d sensed in the older man was tugging at him with invisible hands and the boy couldn’t let it go on a moment longer.
“Riley! Gavrin! Are ye still there? The rabbits and mice haven’t eaten ye, have they?” Michael’s boisterous voice shattered the frail silence and Riley saw a kind of despair leap onto Gavrin’s face before the usual mask settled over it.
Michael thrust his head into the small entrance, a lantern held in one hand. “Oh, yer still alive, then? See, I told ye all that boar wound was just a pinprick.”
Riley could make out three or four other men silhouetted against the flames outside. “Boar’s wounds are nothin’ to sneeze at, Michael.” He recognized that as Bryan, Michael’s father. The blacksmith was a huge man, all right; it stood to reason Michael would have fetched him. “Get the frame set up and bring him out here, quick.”
“Where’s the doctor?” Gavrin asked.
“We couldn’t find him. He wasn’t at the pub when I was there but I told one of the others to fetch him and get him to Riley’s house. We thought that’d be better than loading another body on to the wagon.”
“Besides, the wee doctor wouldn’t want to go traipsing around in the woods in the dark anyway,” Bryan rumbled.
Riley bit his lip and sat up slowly. Gavrin’s arm settled around his shoulder again, the warmth from his body causing Riley’s heart to race. Once outside, six rough hands seized him and lowered him onto the makeshift travois they’d built.
There was a wagon waiting at the forest edge for him and Cullen wasn’t one of the horses hitched to it. Staring at Michael, Riley saw the other lad shrug apologetically. “Sorry, man. Yer horse was wild when I came back without ye. He wouldn’t let me ride him or lead him by the reins. Finally, I just cut him loose and let him run back home. I thought he’d make it back without my help.”
“That’s right; he would have. Don’ worry yerself none about him.” Riley was shifted onto the back of the wagon while the other men piled up into the front seat. Only Gavrin stayed in the back with him and Riley was grateful for his once more still presence.
The emotional and physical turmoil from this day were too much. His father’s persistent arguments, the violence of the hunt, his injury and Gavrin’s offer all swirled through Riley’s mind. He wanted nothing more than to sink into blessed sleep and forget it all. Hopefully, his hurt would keep his father off his back, perhaps for days. Then again, the old man might see this as a hell of a good reason for Riley to give up this hunting nonsense once and for all.
It didn’t bear thinking of, especially after his friend’s request. Riley kept his eyes shut, willing himself to fall asleep and forestall the upcoming fuss from his mother and fretful sisters.
“Riley?” Gavrin’s voice was barely above a whisper; Riley doubted the others could hear it.
“What?”
“If Cullen made it back to yer home, why wasn’t yer father with the other men?”
Riley’s eyes opened at that. He stared at the space where Gavrin was. The wavering light from the lantern made it difficult to see his friend’s face but Riley heard the concern in it. “I-I don’ know.”
“Ya think he’s still sore at ye?”
“No. Me da’s angry and stubborn as an old donkey. But there’s no meanness in him. If he’d seen the horse come back riderless, he’d know I’d been hurt and come lookin’ for me.”
“Or send someone after to fetch ye.” Gavrin raised his voice. “Fellows, where is Mr. Finn?”
Michael’s father answered. “Don’ know. Michael came rushing into the pub and said it was urgent. We didn’t have time to go lookin’ for Riley’s father. Mayhap the doctor’s told him all about it by now.”
“There’s no use frettin’ ourselves about it before then,” one of the others added. “We take Riley to his da and let the doctor sort it out.” A chorus of agreement greeted this and the men settled into quiet, broken only occasionally by the sounds of the night.
Riley peered up at Gavrin again. This time shadows hid the man’s face completely and the prone boy needed to hear his voice, to sound out his thoughts. “Gavrin, about what we were sayin’ back there, I want ye to know...” He paused, worrying his lip.
“It’s not to the point now, lad. Ye don’ know yer own mind yet and ye should think about getting well. Ye can give me yer answer another time.” A wiry hand rested on one of Riley’s shoulders and the heat he’d felt earlier seemed to burn through his clothes. The young boy sucked in his breath and reached up tentatively to place his hand over Gavrin’s own. The touch lingered between them until Riley sank into sleep.
The men trudged up the walk carrying Riley’s unconscious body carefully. All the house lights were ablaze and Bryan lifted one foot and kicked at the door. The door was flung open instantly, Darla’s ashen face looking out towards them. “Riley?” She started back at the shadowy figures at the door. “Wait, who are ye and what do ye mean, making such a racket at this time?”
Bryan stared at her. “We’ve brought yer brother home, if yer carin’ about his life.”
“Riley?” She craned her neck around his considerable bulk. “What about him? His life? What do ye mean?”
“The doctor has not told ye?” Michael asked.
“The doctor? He’s upstairs. How did ye know he was here?” She stepped around them, spying the prone figure in their midst. “What is this? Oh my god!” She threw herself on her brother’s body, her own shaking with shock.
“How can the doctor not have told ye? Is the man totally without feeling?” The heat in Gavrin’s voice, all the odder from one who rarely showed anger, caught her attention and Darla lifted startled eyes to him.
“The doctor’s been...he came for-” Her words were cut off by a wordless wail from the upstairs floor and the house became filled with the lamentations of Mr. Finn and his daughters.
__________
The doctor had looked over Gavrin’s bandage and grudgingly pronounced it satisfactory. However, he insisted on removing it and replacing it with one of his own. Perhaps this was why the wound became infected. Riley came down with a fever, fierce and virulent, crying out for his mother as if he’d been a child of two rather than a grown boy of 19 years. But it was to be many days before he came back to himself.
The lean frame stirred in the bed and Riley opened his eyes with difficulty. He was in his own room and relaxed at being in familiar surroundings. Then he turned his head at a rustling sound by his bedside. His sister Elizabeth was perched in Darla’s lap and being rocked in her oldest sister’s arms. Cordelia was nowhere to be seen.
“Lizzy? Dar? What’s...what are ye doing here?”
Darla started and lifted her head from her dozing sister. “Riley?” He was startled to see how wan she looked. His 15-year-old sister’s strawberry blonde hair was barely combed, hanging limply over her shoulders without the usual care and attention she and her mother lavished on it.
What had happened to make her so careless of her own appearance? Darla may have been a country girl but she had as much pride in her own looks as any fine lady. Was it because of him? “Lass, don’ fret yerself so. It’s only a wee scratch. That boar barely touched me.”
“The boar? Oh god, that’s right; I’d forgotten.” She rubbed at her eyes. Elizabeth had stirred faintly as Darla spoke although the older girl had tried to keep her voice to a whisper. Now she yawned and looked up.
“Riley!” She scrambled off Darla’s lap and threw herself at him. “Yer awake!”
“I’m glad of it, too, lass.” He frowned when he heard the muffled sobs where she pressed her face into his chest. “Shh, shhh, lass. I’m here and I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m not dead, see? It’d take more than one oversized pig to kill me.”
“Riley, she’s not crying over that. Yer fever broke last night so we knew ye were out of danger. It’s mother, ya see, and...” Darla faltered, her eyes falling away from his.
“Mother? What about her? Where is she?” Surely his mother should have been there. She doted on her Riley the way mothers often did over their only sons. It was that favoritism that had driven his father into a mild fury the few times she’d come between him and his son. Why wasn’t she here?
“She...the baby came early and we sent for the doctor. He arrived even quicker than he usually does and we didn’t know why and da was in too much of a hurry to ask how he just showed up like magic, like he knew what was happening.”
“What was happening?” The shadows clinging to Darla’s face grew heavier and she stopped talking.
The door opened slowly and Cordelia eased her head around the edge of it. “Darla, is Elizabeth still asleep?” Seeing Riley upright in the bed, she smiled and ran towards him. At the last moment, she plopped herself on the bed and folded her arms, gracing him with a severe look. “Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the livin’. It’s about time ya woke up. Yer a bad person, scaring Elizabeth like that.”
Elizabeth lifted her face from her brother, sniffling as she confronted her brash sister. “As if ya weren’t as scared as the rest of us.”
Cordelia tossed her brunette hair and Riley noticed it was almost as tangled as Darla’s. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, ye were!”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“Stop it, you two!” Darla’s harsh voice rang out in the closed space and the other girls had the grace to look abashed.
“Does he know? Did ye tell him?” Cordelia asked her timidly.
“No, I was goin’ to and then ye came runnin’ in and...”
“Tell me what?” Riley’s voice was a hoarse growl. Darla hesitated again and this time it was Cordelia who answered.
“It’s ma. She’s dead and the babe with her. The child came early while ye were out playin’ in the woods with yer boys. Summat went wrong--we don’ know what--and the child...” Cordelia looked down, her fingers twisting in her lackluster hair. “Mother never even saw the babe,” she finished with a whisper.
“Ma’s dead?” Riley whispered. “That can’t be! I saw her. She was alive only--” His mind raced back. Darla had said his fever broke only last night. How long had he been unaware before then, drifting in and out of consciousness? “How long has it been since I was brought home?”
Darla answered, “Six days. We wanted to wait until ye were well before burying the body. But ye were ill so long and we couldn’t leave her just lying...” She wavered in her speech, tears standing hot in her eyes. “We buried her three days ago.”
She moved closer to the bed and sat by Riley’s head, stroking Elizabeth’s heaving back. “I’m sorry, Riley. Da says as soon as yer strong enough to walk, we’ll take ye to see her.”
Elizabeth started up at that, crying out in her distress. “No! No taking Riley to go to Mother! I want him here! I don’ want him to die!”
Cordelia sighed. “He’s not going to die, ye silly girl. Didn’ ya hear Darla? We just want him to see ma’s final resting place.”
Elizabeth sniffled louder, her cheeks puffy and her eyes gone pale gray with distress. “Y-yer not gonna die?”
He patted her back again in an automatic fashion, numb with the terrible news. “I’m not dyin’, lass. I told ye. I’m stayin’ right here.”
She dug her small fists into his clothes. “Ye promise? Yer not leavin’ me?”
The passionate demand made him hesitate. There was a stray thought nagging at his mind, a promise or request made elsewhere. But he was too tired to fasten on it and it couldn’t be as important as the three girls now staring at him, waiting for an answer. “Aye, I promise. I’ll not leave ye, Lizzy. Any of ye,” he added.
There was a collective sigh as if all the girls had been holding their breaths. “That’s good. Because I think da’s gone a touch strange. He cried out when ma died but he hasn’t shed a tear since then. He met with these strange men once after ma died. They went into a room together and whispered like thieves but da wouldn’ tell us what they said. Maybe ye can talk to him, Riley; he won’ speak with us.” Cordelia scowled, kicking her feet against the bed in her frustration.
“Cordy, da’s not strange. He’s lost his wife...”
“And we’ve lost our mother,” she snapped. Tears born of exasperation and grief stood in her eyes and she angrily dashed them away. “We’ve known her all our lives and we’ve lost her just as much as he has. But does he think of us? Nae, he locks himself up in his room and leaves us to do everything, like looking after ye. He probably doesn’ even know that yer better.”
“Then someone should tell him.” Riley shoved aside the coverlet and swung his legs out of the bed, silently cursing his weakness as his legs trembled.
Darla rested her hand on his shoulder. Alarmed, she said, “Riley, ye’ve just woken up. Let yerself get a bit steady on yer pins before ye go traipsing all over the house.”
“I’m well enough to walk. I’m not stayin’ cooped up here a moment longer.” Impatiently shaking off Darla’s hovering presence, Riley stood on shaky legs and braced himself by grasping the bedpost. The trembling in his legs grew stronger and he sat back down abruptly on the bed.
“See that? Shaky as a newborn lamb, he is,” Cordelia said with an air of satisfaction. “Stay here and I’ll bring da. Maybe the news yer up and about will bring him out of his cave.” She moved towards the door and wagged her finger at him. “No moving ‘til da gets here, Riley Finn. I mean it. I’ll sit on ye if I have to.”
“Me too,” Elizabeth piped up.
Riley rolled his eyes and sagged back on to the bed. “Well, what’s a man to do when yer all agin me? Fine. I’ll bide here and wait for da.”
Satisfied that he’d obey, the girls quickly left the room. Riley leaned back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling. His mother was dead. The news hadn’t had time to sink in but it would bring howling grief when it did. He’d loved her with all the devotion of an only son and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye.
I should have been here. Instead I was out playin’ the mighty hunter with the others. He knew what happened to her wasn’t his fault; women died in childbirth all the time and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. But he could have seen her one last time, watched the doctor pull the sheet over her eyes, and attended her burial. If he hadn’t been with the others...
He started. Thoughts of Gavrin and his whispered conversation in the woods came to him. He’d never given the other man an answer about his intentions.
I never told him what I wanted. And he said he’d wait for me answer. And now it was too late. He’d made a promise to Elizabeth. True, she was only a child but she was kin and Gavrin... What was the man to him? A hunting companion, yes, and time might have made him something more. But his da would need him now. The other girls had said as much and he had his duty to them as well.
A knock at the door drew his attention. That was his father on the other side and Riley knew his future was about to be decided. He drew a trembling breath. “Come in, da.”
“One cannot balance tragedy in the scales
Unless one weighs it with the tragic heart.” - Stephen Vincent Benét (1898 - 1943), John Brown’s Body (1928)

TBC
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Beauty and the Beast