Jamie hadn’t been on the farm in over three years, but the memories were as vivid as when he experienced them. From the fields where he and Ina spent hours beneath the hot sun assisting her parents with the crops, to the stables where the O’Doererys let him pet their horses after the day’s chores were done. He left Malcot in one of those stables as dusk settled overhead. The fields were nearly swallowed in darkness, but a dim, inviting light emanating from a small house guided their path.

He was happy the Princess agreed to spend the night here, as the road ahead would be far less treacherous during the day. She even deigned to continue their conversation on the trip over, and Jamie was amazed to find he could speak with her without losing his lunch.

“So, how do you know these people?”

“They’re friends of my family. I’ve known them since I was very young and they’re very kind, but I should warn you they can be somewhat,” he paused. “I’m trying to put this nicely.” The O’Doererys were incredibly kind and generous to close friends and strangers, but they could be a little much, even for a seasoned veteran of their behavior like Jamie. He had no idea how they were going to react to him appearing in the middle of the night with Caitlin.

“Eccentric?” Caitlin said. He wasn’t quite sure what the word meant, but it sounded appropriate. “I took that as a given, seeing as they’re friends with you,” she said with a small smirk. “I’ll pay them for sheltering us, but don’t expect any thanks from me simply because you happen to know them.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Christiansen banged against the door three times, eliciting an angry voice from within: “I’m comin’, yah’ ingrate, I’m comin’!”

A few moments later, the door creaked open and a short, older man stood before them. He seemed ready to use his surprisingly large body to throw out the intruders who made the mistake of ruining his evening. “Podeis, what in the name ah’ all that’s sacred do yah’ want at this hour? Don’tcha know some people gotta be up early and workin’ tomorrow?” he paused when he saw Christiansen, springing forward and securing him in a tight hug. “Jamie! C’mere yah’ little buggah’! How’ve yah’ been?”

“I’m doing well, Mr. O’Doerery,” Chrisitainsen said in a strained voice.

“It’s so nice of you to drop by,” his arms squeezed him further. “How’ve Domnall and Bridget been?”

“They’re good. I was wondering if we could spend the night here.”

“O’course you can, mah’ boy. Our house is yer’ house,” Mr. O’Doerery finally released him. “But you said we, and I don’t see no one-oh, hello,” he said when he saw Caitlin. After taking a few moments to assess her, he leaned in to whisper to Christiansen. “Jamie, you didn’t tell me ya’ got yourself a girlfriend. And one that’s pretty as a sunset!”

“Uh, s-she’s not my girlfriend,” the comment instantly made him blush. “She is just, uh, muh-my traveling companion.”

“Traveling companion,” Caitlin reiterated. “And my name is Caitlin.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet yah’, Miss Caitlin, name’s Callum O’Doerery,” he said, in a tone that told them he wasn’t buying it. “Now, you two c’mon in, I’ll get me’ wife.”

They stepped into a room consisting of a rug and three doors, with the occasional painting lining the walls. The couple lived modestly, in a world far different from the castles and courts where Caitlin spent most of her days, but their home was cozy and snug. It was more than suitable for a night’s rest.

“Mairead! C’mon out, Jamie’s here and he’s got a lady friend!” Mr. O’Doerery called out to his wife “They were wonderin’ if they could spend the night!”

“Jamie’s ere’? N’he’s got a lady friend? What’s er’ name? Is she pretty?”

“Her name is Caitlin an’ she’s adorable! Get out here and say hello!”

Christiansen was mortified by the comment. To minimize his anguish, she sucked in her lips and tried not to laugh. Mocking his misfortune was a little bit cruel, but it was funny.

“If me’ eyes ain’t trickin’ me,” Mairead said, emerging from an adjacent room. She was short, shorter than Caitlin, but not frail in the slightest. Just like her husband, she moved at a brisk pace and greeted Caitlin like she was an old family friend. “It’s Jamie! And his lady friend! Let me have a look at you, yah’ little darlin’ cupcake,” she scrutinized her hair, then her eyes, then she pried Caitlin’s lips open a little with her thumbs. “Gorgeous hair, gorgeous eyes, gorgeous teeth; good job, Jamie, ya’ got yerself’ a real winner here!” she exclaimed, returning her focus to their guest. “I’ve seen you somewhere, yah’? I think I saw you somewhere, Miss Caitlin, but I can’t quite place where.”

“Mrs. O’Doerery, this is Caitlin Faraday,” Christiansen managed to interrupt her. “Princess of Amorado.”

Husband and wife exchanged terrified glances before Callum dropped to one knee and gently took Caitlin’s hands in his own. “I do indeed request yer’ forgiveness, Princess Faraday. I didn’t recognize you dressed like that with yer’ new hair. Not to say it looks bad, just different. And we didn’t mean nothin’ bout’ you and Jamie bein’ boyfriend and girlfriend; Jamie’s not so great with the ladies and when I saw the two of you together I was hopin’ maybe he, ya’ know,” he shrugged. “Finally got one.”

“Callum!” Mairead snapped.

“Mrs. O’Doerery, it’s okay,” Caitlin said. Using her status to make people that annoyed her uncomfortable was entertaining but unintentionally inflicting that on her hosts made her feel embarrassed. “You don’t need to do that for me.”

“We don’t mean to be that way, Princess Faraday, we’re just not used to royalty. But if there’s anythin’ else you want, please let us know.” Callum said.

Caitlin was used to people waiting on her hand and foot regardless of her desire for such treatment, but something about them made it sweet as opposed to patronizing. “I did have a request. More than one, actually.”

“Name em’, Princess, we will perform them as best we can.” Mairead said.

“May Sir Christiansen and I keep Malcot for a few more days?”

“Done, keep er’ as long as yah’ like. Didja’ know Jamie’s grandfather actually bought him?” Callum said. “Forget that, what’s the other thing?”

“I’d prefer if you called me Caitlin,” she said with a small smile to try and ease the tension.

That appeared to work, as Mairead gave her a tiny smile in kind. “Alright, then, Caitlin. Whats say we give you two ah’ change ah’ clothes for the night? Then tomorrow we cook up tew’ a nice meal,” she put her hands on Caitlin’s shoulders. “Callum, give Jamie some fresh clothes then show em’ to the room, I’ll do the same for our royal guest.”

“C’mon, Jamie,” they disappeared to the back room as Caitlin followed Mairead.

“It’s all me’ daughter Ima’s clothes. She and her hubby’ live in the city, and she hasn’t worn anything here in ah’ long time, but they’re fresh as daisies. I know it’s nothin’ like the beautiful dresses yer’ used to, but I hope yer’ okay with wearin’ it fer’ the night. If I had known yew’ and Jamie we’re gonna be here, I woulda’ gone out and bought somethin’ fancy!” Mairead stepped inside a different door to retrieve the clothing, emerging a few moments later with a grey nightgown. “How’s this?”

“It’s perfect, Mrs. O’Doerery.”

“Ah, you’re too kind, darlin’,” she responded. “Now you go inside and get changed, I’ll be out here. And how’s about I wash yer’ clothes for you? Gotta keep the armor fresh, yah’?”

“I would appreciate that a lot,” Caitlin said as she stepped inside. There were candles sitting near each end of the bed and a tiny window providing a view of the farm. Above the bed, she noted, was an oil painting. On one half stood a wizened, older man with burning gold hair whose ends faded into rays of light standing in front of the moon. He had a long, golden beard and bushy eyebrows. Opposite him was a younger, athletic man with white hair and a white beard standing in front of the morning sun. He wore a flowing silver gown and carried a sceptre bearing the image of the sun. It was a portrait depicting both forms of Arakhum the All-Seeing. As the Dawn and Dusk of Time, He embodied the ancient and sacred as well as the new and young. To keep the past sacred and build for the future, but always be rooted in the present.

“This is a lovely painting, Mrs. O’Doerery,” Caitlin said as she was nearly done changing.

“Oh, yeah, that little thing. Me’ husband drew that. He’s a bit of a qualock, but he can paint an’ draw real well.”

Caitlin continued to examine the portrait. Arakhum’s duality never sat well with her. Granted, He was a deity who created the world, so He probably wasn’t bound to the same rules as humans, but how could one being exist in two distinct forms simultaneously?

“He’s very talented,” she said in earnest as she stepped outside. The work could easily fit in the halls of the Royal Castle. “If you don’t mind, may I ask how you and your husband know Sir Christiansen?”

“Me hubby and his grandaddeh’ been friends since they were the size of an apple stem. Sometimes we looked after the youngster when his family was a bit busy with the business. The grandparents and his ma’ ran a bakery and his papa’ was a knight.”

“What was he like in his younger years?”

“A kinder lad never did exist in all the lands, I promise ya' that. Even as a youngster, sweet as chocolate cake. A little shy, ‘specially around pretty girls, but a real sweetheart once you get him to open up.”

“Is that so? Jamie’s reserved?”

“Yep. When he was still a youngster, it took a while before the boy said anything to us unless we started the conversation. For a while, he was a little jewel ah’ sunshin, course till’ his parents,” Mairead trailed off. “I probably shouldn’t tell ya’ this, Miss Caitlin, but Jamie trusts you. Can ya’ keep a secret?”

She nodded, even if she was hesitant to intrude on Jamie’s personal life.

“This was ‘bout four years ago. Jamie had been trainin’ to be a knight for a bit when his mother passed away. She got real sick, then his father came down with somethin’ similar not long after. Every doctor an’ expert in fifty miles tried to help for free, none of em’ could explain it. Best they could do was ease the pain.

“Jamie hears about a doctor all the way over in Erdelans who would supposedly cure anythin’, but only for a cart load a’ gold. He gets it into his head that he has to protect his pa’, so he sneaks out in the middle of the night, all alone, to travel there and find the doctor. Me, me’ hubby and his granddad go out to find him, cuz his grandma is lookin’ after his father. He made it all the way to Hetritom by the time we found him.”

“I don’t understand,” Caitlin said. “What was he going to do to enlist the doctor? Where was he going to get the money?”

“He didn’t have a plan or money, but Jamie said he’d take the rest of his life to work off the debt if that’s what it took.”

“But he was just a teenager. Why would he take that responsibility on himself?

“That sword of his actually belonged to his pa’. He spends all kinds a’ money repairin’ it. I don’t think I’ll ever know why he feels that way; he was just a boy, and there was nothin’ he could do for either of em’,” Mairead shrugged. “Me’ husband thinks it’s cuz’ he was training to be a knight at the time and he thought he should be able to protect them from anything. I’m only tellin’ you this cuz’ it might explain why Jamie’s a bit, eh’, overprotective sometimes, especially when it comes to you."

“Me? Why me?”

Before she could make any further inquiries, Callum returned. “Mairead, what’re you doin’? Let Caitlin rest, we can badger her tomorrow at breakfast. We gotta’ get their clothes washed and get to sleep.”

Part of her wanted to continue the conversation, but she didn’t want to keep her hosts up all night. “Thank you both very much, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You have a good night a’ rest, Caitlin,” Mairead said.

“Holler if you need anything, darlin’,” Callum followed his wife outside, leaving Caitlin to muse on her newfound knowledge. The thought of her companion being awkward and hesitant around women was amusing. Could his annoying nature stem from an internal feeling of insecurity rather than doubting her ability as a warrior? Christiansen was an oaf and a pest, but perhaps he wasn’t as obnoxious and ignorant as she first assumed. Perhaps he was an oaf and a pest because he didn’t know how to interact with the opposite sex.

She also considered the revelation about his parents. His protectiveness of her likely stemmed from the feelings of rage and powerlessness he experienced during the tender years of his life. But he was only a teenager when his parents passed, how could he blame himself? Irrational as it might seem to her, she could only imagine how she would feel if her parents died when she was young. No matter what happened, she felt it was her duty to protect them. If a warlord shredded Amorado to embers, Caitlin knew she would blame herself for failing to protect her family. And she would burn every kingdom to the ground if that’s what it took to avenge them.

For some reason, she thought of her grandfather. After Caitlin’s grandmother passed away, the King spent hours and hours of every day privately praying to Arakhum in Harrison’s Cathedral. There was a chapel set up in the castle, but Queen Abigail always preferred that one above all others. Closing oneself off from others and being an overprotective oaf wasn’t the worst coping mechanism in the world, but Caitlin now found herself harboring some sympathy for the young man.

She planned to retire for the night, but another painting caught her eye. Sitting adjacent to the front door, it depicted a tall, broad-shouldered knight, a stunningly beautiful woman with long, flowing black hair, and their son standing in front of a small cottage flanked by trees. The son stood at attention with a toothy grin and dimples in his cheeks. There was something about the boy she couldn’t place. He almost looked familiar.

Wait, Mairead mentioned Christiansen’s father was a knight. Was the boy in the painting Christiansen? But where had they met?

A question for tomorrow. Right now, she needed some rest.

“To be perfectly honest, Christiansen,” Caitlin said as she opened the door to their room. “Perhaps you’re not as useless as I first thoug-uhhhhh,” her eyes widened in horror.

“What?” Christiansen asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Buh...I-juh...you.”

“Caitlin, what’s wrong?”

“You don’t have a shirt on! Why don’t you have a shirt on?” She struggled to keep the volume down, her eyes affixed to his bare stomach.

Christiansen’s stupid face once again lit up like a comet. “I-I'm sorry, Caitlin, I was getting out of my armor and I thought you were talking to Mrs. O’Doerery. I promise I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

It took far too long to break out of the trance, but Caitlin managed to slam the door shut. Out of sight, the image of a shirtless Christiansen was seared into her mind's eye. Obviously, knighthood involved a lot of physical activity, but knowing he possessed a body like that was unsettling. Caitlin hadn’t even considered that he might be so very lean and tight beneath his armor. She couldn’t stop thinking about his big, muscular arms and the way his stomach angled into a clean V...

Caitlin bit her bottom lip to prevent a frustrated gnash from escaping her lips. She couldn’t admire his physicality like some giggling girl with a crush. He just engineered a scheme to try and woo her, to undermine her resolve. Taking his clothes off may work to charm less intelligent women, but she would have none of such foolishness. And to think she considered easing up on him a minute ago!

Still, she remained outside the room with her hands on her hips.

Eventually, the door opened to reveal a fully clothed Christensen, wearing a loose shirt and worn trousers.

“I’m sorry, Caitlin. I promise I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Caitlin barged past him, forcing him back after their shoulders collided. Once her dominance was reasserted, she turned and jammed an index finger in his face. “Try anything like that again and I fill you with arrows.”

A small fireplace gave off a pleasant warmth and an adjacent window provided a view of the valley beyond. Much like the rest of the O’Doerery home, it wasn’t exactly elaborate, but it was snug and cozy. Her anger somewhat assuaged, she placed her boots and bow in a corner.

The feeling of contentment vanished as soon as she recognized the O’Doererys only provided one bed.

“What’s wrong?” Christiansen asked.

“There’s only one bed. Will you next inquire as to the color of the sky, or can you figure that out for yourself?” Caitlin asked in kind.

“There’s more than enough space, but we can use my sword as a buttress. I can sleep on the floor.”

It was difficult to tell if Christiansen was being sarcastic, so just in case, Caitlin grabbed the lone pillow, slammed it down on her side, and greedily wrapped herself in the quilt, leaving none for him. Facing away from the knight, she said: “Don’t even think about coming over to my side.”

“What’s your side?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Jamie assumed it to be an 80-20 division in Caitlin’s favor, so he laid his body down as close to the edge of the bed as possible. It would’ve been nice to have at least a bit of the pillow or quilt, and there was a serious possibility the Princess might murder him at any moment, but tolerating hostile sleeping conditions was a skill learned early in his training.

As he got comfortable, he was wondering whether he had incredibly good luck or legendarily poor luck. Being able to spend an extended period one-on-one with the woman you’ve had a crush on for five years was supposed to be a good thing, but Jamie knew from the start his tendency to stick his foot in his mouth would be his undoing. As badly as their initial encounter in the forest was, Caitlin at least deigned to tolerate him. Now, after the whole incident with her walking in on him changing, she was probably offended by the sight of him.

What was he thinking getting out of his armor that quickly? As embarrassing as it was for him, he could only imagine how Caitlin felt. He didn’t expect her to fall in love with him over the course of the journey, but her thinking he was a total buffon was beyond painful.

The opposite was true for him, however. While he never knew what to expect from her, Jamie only found his affection for her growing deeper. Her feisty spunk, her courage, her wit, Caitlin was totally unlike anyone he’d ever met. Her fiery disposition only made her more attractive in his eyes, even if that fire was often directed at him. Dressed in something as simple a white nightdress that fit across her slender shoulders, she was utterly enchanting.

Arahkum on High, why couldn’t Claire happen upon the Princess in the forest? She’d know what to do. Beyond her lack of romantic affection for Caitlin, she was more intelligent and better with people, especially women. Why did fate conspire to humiliate him?

“I can’t think that way.” Jamie knew dwelling on the hypothetical didn’t help anyone. If she viewed him as the most repulsive creature to ever walk the Earth, they’d have learn to tolerate one another while she was under his protection. Her safety took precedence over everything else. The responsibility fell to him and he wasn't going to stand down. Whenever Jamie felt unsure about the struggles presented by life, one method always cleared his mind of doubt. He closed his eyes and brought his hands together.

“Father, Mother, give me the strength to protect Caitlin, the wisdom to guide her home, and the courage to stand up for what I know is true. Watch over us in this time of danger. In Arakhum’s name, I pray to you.”

Jamie inhaled deeply and concluded the prayer with a stretch, careful not to overstep to Caitlin's side. Hopefully, he could calm himself and at least get a few hours of sleep.

“Hey.” A whisper from across the bed made his eyes fly open.

“Hey!” A finger tapping him several times on the shoulder followed. “I know you can hear me!”

Unable to ignore Caitlin, he slowly. Despite her usual scowl of intensity, there was something so irresistibly adorable about her being curled up in the blankets. “Yes?”

“It’s bloody freezing in here.”

That was a curious complaint. She had the entire quilt, not to mention the fire. “You’re cold?”

“I don’t know why,” she clarified. “That’s just how things are.”

“What would you have me do?”

Caitlin looked as if she were about to have her teeth removed during the most horrible busking competition ever performed without the benefit of anesthetic. “I suppose it wouldn’t be so awful if we huddled up. For warmth. And absolutely nothing else.”

Jamie was certain he misheard. Did she want him to...?

“Y-you want to cuddle?”

That earned him an annoyed grunt. “N-no, there will be no cuddling, I’d prefer to sleep on a bed of hot spikes than cuddle with you! I just think it would benefit both of us if we huddled up because it’s cold in here, you oaf!”

He closed his eyes for just a moment, if only to make sure to make sure this wasn’t some nightmare or horrifyingly vivid hallucination. If it were, he’d open his eyes and Caitlin might be gone.

No, she was still there, glaring at him like he’d done something wrong.

“Okay,” Jamie said, his voice not nearly as steady as he hoped. “We can cu-huddle up for warmth. Yes.”

After unraveling herself from the quilt, she gave him the pillow. “We can share the pillow, if you like,” Jamie’s body froze as Caitlin scooched over and brought herself closer to him. She draped her arms over his chest, resting her head near his shoulder. He yelped in an extremely unmany way when he felt a surge of freezing cold between his calves.

“What? What happened?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Jamie said. “It’s just your...feet.”

“My feet?”

"Yes. They’re very cold. I’m sorry, you just surprised me,” he rescinded his earlier question of how Caitlin could be cold; her feet were like blocks of ice!

Instead of yet another derogatory comment about his being a total coward, the Princess retracted her feet and gave him a half-smirk, like she was trying to spare him further humiliation.

“You can put them back."

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

When their lower halves were fully entangled, Caitlin laughed nervously.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Your hairy legs.”

Jamie couldn’t believe it; under all her bluster, combat prowess, and snark, the princess was actually ticklish. He found that adorable, but what if she used that as an excuse to finally murder him?

As poorly as their relationship started, Jamie knew she wasn’t capable of that kind of cruelty. At least, he hoped she wasn’t. He carefully moved his arms out from under the blanket and lowered them onto her back, tracing his fingers up her spine. Caitlin tensed, writing against him with a bark of laughter.

“Don’t!” she almost yelped. This time, Jamie couldn't stop himself from looking down at her with a smirk.

“Are you actually ticklish?"

“It’s my only other weakness, if you must know,” this time her smile was gentle and rye, like she also found their predicament amusing. “But don’t even think about trying to tickle me again, Christiansen. I promise you’ll regret it. And I’d like to get some sleep.”

Swallowing the apprehension in his throat, he did as commanded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling the Princess closer to his body. She responded by nestling against him, securing her arms around his neck and resting her head near his shoulder. Caitlin’s dress was soft as silk, and her body was warm and squishy beneath its folds. Being this close to her made him note she also smelled intoxicating. Like fresh mountain air or lilacs. Things Jamie wanted in his life. He could only silently pray she couldn’t feel his erratic heartbeat.

“Oh, Arahkum on High,” Jamie thought to himself. “Please don’t let this be a dream.” Caitlin’s body fit against him so perfectly, like she belonged there, like they were designed to meld together. Like this feeling of coziness was a blessing, and not something that should inspire terror and fear.

They lay there in silence for a minute before she broke it. “I get the feeling you’re very tense.”

Jamie almost swore out loud. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. It’s nothing you did, it’s just that I-” he stopped to consider some options. Have had a massive crush on you for the past five years? “I don’t mean to be so...uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” she said, shifting to make herself more comfortable. “I apologize if you feel I’ve been hostile, but you didn’t make it easy to trust you.”

“That’s understandable, Princess.”

She rested her chin on his torso. “So, you’re agreeing with me?”

“On what?”

“That I’ve been hostile.”

“Uh, I didn’t say that. I didn’t say you were hostile.”

“But you didn’t disagree with me.”

Another silence followed, during which Jamie prepared himself for a violent death. Instead, Caitlin snickered, presumably because she got the desired reaction out of him. “I’m only teasing, Christiansen. I promise I’m not searching for a reason to kill you. Not that I need one, anyway.”

Uncertain if that was a joke, he shut his eyes and rested his head on the pillow.

Another minute passed before he dared to break new ground. “If you don’t mind my asking, Princess, did you change your hair?”

“Yes,” she breathed in a sleepy murmur that tickled the skin of his neck. “You’re very observant.”

“May I ask why?”

Caitlin inhaled deeply. “It’s more difficult to grab if it’s short. I never really liked long hair, I kept it mostly to appease my mother.”

Chopped short to her cheeks was the superior option when it came to wandering the forest in search of enemies to fight, but Jamie thought both made Caitlin absolutely gorgeous. Her current look and her previous styling, the long, flowing one that came down past her shoulders he first witnessed five years earlier in his grandparents' shop. She would doubtless be equally wondrous in any styling. Jamie thought she could be in a full set of armor replete with a blood-soaked helmet and still look beautiful. Telling her she’d be gorgeous in armor might earn him a stern insult, as it could conceivably be taken as a compliment to her skill as a fighter, but telling a warrior princess she had pretty hair would certainly earn him a knife to the chest.

“You don’t need permission to speak to me,” Caitlin said, clearly on her way to the land of dreams. “And you don’t need to refer to me as Princess.”

“Oh. Okay. Whatever you desire,” he said, feeling his mind beginning to wander aimlessly as sleep took over. “I think you’re beautiful either way, Caitlin.”

A chill worthy of Imanese Mountain's peak overtook Jamie’s body. His heart ceased to function in preparation for its being carved to pieces.

“I-I’m sorry, Caitlin,” he pleaded for mercy. “I don’t know why I said that. I mean, not to say you don’t aren’t angeli-uh you could wear your hair any way you want, and my opinion shouldn't matter at all, I was only suggesting that you-uh, that you.” When no form of swift vengeance arrived, he shut up. The delicate, fine boned features of Caitlin’s face had relaxed, and he could hear the gentle rhythm of shallow breathing. Her short, scruffy hair stuck from the sides of her head at odd angles, in a way Jamie found strangely cute. She was peaceful and utterly adorable. Jamie closed his eyes and let his head fall on the pillow, grateful his companion slept through the confession. Getting to sleep would be difficult, but he needed lots of rest after the day he went through.

Several minutes later, once she knew Jamie was no longer awake, Caitlin looked up at him, smiling.