Maeve's mother often told her that she was lucky to be friends with the young princes of the kingdom of Ulaid, and that she should never forget that. She was taught never to push her luck, and to restrain herself at all times. These lessons were royally influenced. Her mother worked as a maid to the queen, and her father was a warrior in the king's army. But Maeve was a girl of seventeen at the time, and she often disregarded these lessons. Her friendship with Ulaid's princes remained a strong one, though it had come about in a rather unique way.

Three years before, Maeve had been out buying food for their supper when a boy came hurtling into her out of nowhere, spilling all the things she had bought on to the ground. She was already irritated after having to bargain with one of the sellers over the ridiculous price of some carrots, so this tipped her over the edge.

"Would you watch where you're bloody going?" Maeve snapped at the boy, who already looked apologetic and was bending down to help her pick them up.

"Sorry, Lady," he said, "my brother and I were just messing around. I didn't mean to knock your things over." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he said so, lifting his cloak a little to reveal clothes finer than she had ever seen before. Clothes befitting the nobility, in fact.

"Lady," she muttered, shaking her head. "I'm no lady, I'm hardly a woman! But you must be some ealdorman's son, so no wonder you're the way you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the boy asked, now standing up and slightly affronted. Maeve stood up immediately to face him.

"Needn't you worry, your Lordship," she said, and there was no mistaking the mocking tone in her voice. "I'll be on my way, then, if you don't mind." She made to walk away, but what the boy said next made her stop in her tracks.

"I'm no ealdorman's son," he told her, and this time there was a grin on his face. "If you must know, my name's Finan."

"As in... the king's oldest son?" Maeve said, completely caught off-guard. "The prince, Finan?" She was incredibly embarrassed at the thought of it, but more so at what her mother would say if she knew her daughter had snapped at the prince and made fun of him.

"The very same," Finan said, and the smug tone of his voice only served to infuriate Maeve even more. "My brother's over there, Conall he's called. If you've heard of him." This was a jab at Maeve - of course she had heard of the pair of them - one was the heir to the throne of Ulaid, for goodness' sake! Her face was burning at this point, and it was painfully obvious too - her cheeks had reddened and she could no longer meet his eye.

"Well, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," she muttered. "Lord," she added as an afterthought.

"Don't worry about it," Finan shrugged. "Would you like to join us for a short while? My brother gets on my nerves sometimes and I could do with some company." Maeve laughed a little as his brother called out in protest, and decided to do as she was asked. He was the prince, after all, and he seemed nice enough. She kept this last thought to herself, however, not wanting to boost his ego further.

Maeve came to discover that both Finan and Conall were very good company, and they soon became friends. By the time she was seventeen, they were thick as thieves and often got into a lot of mischief, most of which Maeve would have been punished far more harshly for had she not had the protection of royalty. She would not trade their friendship for anything, but there was only one thing that constantly bothered her about it. The brothers would argue frequently, and often refused to speak to each other for days on end. It was usually up to Maeve to talk things out between them and get the boys to reconcile, and it was no easy feat.

However, the days that they seemed to like each other were just as frequent and these were the days that Maeve loved most, though she had to admit she preferred spending more time with Finan rather than Conall. At first she chalked it up to their ages being more similar, but soon she had to come to terms with the real reason why.

It hadn't escaped Maeve's notice that Finan was growing into a fine young man, but it was more than that. He was incredibly handsome, and was becoming the talk of the young ladies of the town. When she realised how that annoyed her, she began to understand why. Maeve had feelings for the crown prince, and as that realisation was made, those feelings grew intensely. What was there not to like? He was funny, very funny, and a bit of a charmer too, when he wanted to be. When he smiled, it reached his deep brown eyes, the kindest she had ever known, and his hair was always ruffled, no matter how hard the queen tried to flatten it each morning.

All of this scared Maeve more than anything. Her other friends would tell her this was simply an infatuation, something that was a part of growing up, and she would soon grow out of it. It wasn't as though she was the only one, either; most of the girls her age couldn't take their eyes away from him whenever he passed by. But what if this wasn't an infatuation? What if she truly had feelings for him, and not just the hormonal kind? The king would never allow his heir to marry a commoner with no connections or alliances to her name. More importantly, she highly doubted Finan himself thought of her as anything more than a good friend, and these two thoughts caused her to force her feelings down and ignore them.

What she could not know was that Finan was also beginning to see her as more than that. In his eyes, she was the prettiest girl in town, as well as the wittiest and the smartest. He found it difficult to take his eyes away from her at any given moment, and only looked away when she turned to look at him. Even then, he would often meet her gaze and hold it for as long as he would dare. Those few seconds were perhaps the most content he had ever felt. Her eyes were as green as the emeralds that rested in the crown that one day would become his, and he regarded her just as priceless. He couldn't begin to count the freckles that dotted her face, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

After another one of the brothers' arguments, Maeve sat with Finan on the edge of a cliff, both of them swinging their legs. It was unbelievably dangerous, but they loved the thrill of it. This was where they would go after another row, to cheer each other up, before she would leave to speak to young Conall. Finan decided to poke some fun at Maeve.

"Wonder how long it'd take if I connected all those dots on your face with ink," he said, poking her cheek. Maeve slapped his hand off.

"As if I'd let you anywhere near it," she said, rolling her eyes, though her stomach was doing backflips. "And they're called freckles, you brainless toad." Insulting him was one of her favourite pastimes, even if she didn't really believe any of her words held any meaning. He never took them seriously anyways.

"I knew that," he smiled, his gaze lingering on her face as she turned away to watch the waves crash onto the shore down below. The wind blew her hair into his face several times, but he did nothing to move it. Maeve had lovely hair, he thought, it was long and curly, almost black, he reckoned, and he longed to run his fingers through it sometime, braid it even. He thought of Maeve teaching him how to braid hair the year before after he had asked her to, and smiled at the memory.

One morning, Maeve set out as usual to meet the two princes at the barn near her home. When she got there it was empty, but she rolled her eyes and figured they would probably be a little late. That was usually the case. She waited an hour, and then two, before she decided to head down to the palace to see where they were. Either Finan or Conall would have told her if they were not going to be there that morning because they had royal matters that needed attending, so this unexplained disappearance was unnatural.

When Maeve arrived at the palace courtyard, she found that a big crowd was gathering. Near the front of it was her mother, so she pushed through to stand beside her. Her mother hushed her as they watched the scene unfolding in front of them.

"You will not repent for the things you have done?" the king asked in a dangerous voice. Maeve's eyes travelled to see who he was addressing, and her heart dropped when she saw that it was Finan. He was stood facing the king, breathing heavily with anger.

"Never, Lord King," he said quietly. "I stand by what I did."

An uncomfortable silence engulfed the courtyard, before the king finally looked up again. "Get out," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no response from Finan. "I said get out!" he roared, making Maeve and the rest of the townspeople visibly jump. Finan did not move a muscle, however. "You are no longer welcome in this kingdom. I hereby exile you, Finan of Ulaid, and you are never to return in my lifetime on pain of death. Do you understand?"

Maeve watched in horror as Finan nodded. "Yes," he said in a steely voice. His omitting of the word Lord was noticed by everyone, including his father, who was incensed.

"And anyone who wishes to join this man in leaving Ulaid is forbidden from returning on these same conditions!" the king shouted. "I shall say no more on the matter." As he turned around to leave, the crowd began to disperse, talking amongst themselves. They seemed to know why Finan was being exiled, though a heartbroken Maeve did not. Finally, it was just the two of them in the courtyard, after her mother whispered that she would be waiting at home for her.

"What happened, Finan?" she asked, her voice cracking. "What did you do that... that angered them so much?" She took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry.

"I had an argument with Conall," he sighed, "and he... he hit a new low. That bastard insulted my mother. She was queen before she died and my father remarried, and had Conall. She was and always will be a queen in my eyes, so for him to say what he said..." At this point he was seething with anger. "I punched him. I punched the bleeding, living daylights out of him and I swear to God I would do it again."

"How is he?" Maeve whispered, terrified to hear what he said.

"He fell unconscious," Finan spat, "as quickly as possible. The little bastard runt. I kept hitting him until they pulled me away. God knows if he's dead or not. If he is, I couldn't care less."

"Don't say that," Maeve pleaded. "Please don't say that. He's your brother, Finan. Remember? Remember all the good times the three of us had together, all the mischief we'd get up to and the jokes we'd play on people? And he can't be dead, I know it. The king would have outright accused you of murder if he was dead, and he hasn't said anything about it."

"It doesn't matter," Finan said bitterly. "I can't come back. It's all over, Maeve. It won't be the same anymore and we both know it. You've got two choices. You can stay here with Conall or you can come with me. We can leave together, start all over again... or you can tend to my dear brother's wounds at home."

Despite her sorrow, Maeve was furious. "That's not fair, Finan! You can't do this to me, you know I care for you both the same! I have had to sort out every single row the pair of you have had for three years now, and I did it without a complaint because I care for you two idiots! This isn't something I can help you with, this is too big for me and I hate it so much. You think I want to see you go? I don't, I want you to stay but I know you can't. And I can't leave with you, Finan. If I go, there's no return. It's more than Conall. I have a family here, a life here. Ulaid is my home, I can't leave when everything I've ever known is here! Please, don't do this to me, Finan, please . It's not fair."

Finan sighed. "I'm sorry, Maeve," he said after a moment. "I didn't think about it, I... I don't know. It's just that I don't know how I'm going to do this alone, without you by my side as the greatest friend any ex-prince could ask for."

Maeve laughed a little, though her vision was blurred by tears. "You were everything I could ask for in a friend," she told him, swallowing the painful lump in her throat. "I'm going to miss you so much, you reckless bastard." She hugged him tightly, and he held on just as tight, neither of them ever wanting to let go. She only stood back as they saw a guard leading the horse that would take Finan away from Ulaid and out of her life forever.

"Goodbye, Maeve," Finan said, roughly wiping away his own tears. "I swear I'll never forget you and everything you've done for me." He mounted his horse, and with one final, lingering look at her, he turned and rode out of the gates. It was the last Maeve would ever see of him for a long time, and she fell to the ground and sobbed. She wished she had told him how she truly felt, how his face was sometimes the only thing that could get her through a particularly tough day, but it had all been snatched away from her. Finan was gone, never to return home again.

*****************************************

Several years had passed since Finan's exile, and Maeve had had no word of his whereabouts since the day he left. Though her heart had grown heavier with each day that passed, she learned to live without him. That didn't take away any of the pain she felt; the first few weeks after his exile were some of the worst Maeve had ever suffered in her lifetime. Without the support of her family, she knew she would have collapsed completely, but with it she slowly returned to her former self, even if it took a long time.

Maeve was now a young woman, but her taste for adventure and mischief never left her, though she learned to control it a little better. Her mother had told her of some cousins that had moved to Winchester some years ago, when Maeve was a small child, and Maeve had immediately begged to visit them. Winchester was very far away, yes, but it would be the most exciting adventure yet. She had never before left Ulaid, and it would be a chance for her to see what else was out there in the world. After a lot of pleading, Maeve's mother reluctantly allowed her to go. Their goodbye was tearful, and it would be months before they would see each other again, but it would all be worth it.

The journey was difficult and fraught with danger - there were many instances where Maeve's life was threatened both directly and indirectly, but she finally managed to make it safely to Winchester after a long period of travel. It had exhausted Maeve, so she headed to the nearest tavern with the money she had left and asked for a room to spend the night and a drink, resolving to track down her cousins the next day. As she sat at the closest empty table, she lowered her hood, shook out her hair and waited for her drink.

Finan had come a long way since his days as an exiled prince. He had had a lifetime of experiences in the years since he had left Ulaid, first as a slave on a slave ship, where he had met Uhtred of Bebbanburg, and then became one of his most trusted warriors and friends upon being freed. Together with Sihtric and Osferth, they were a close-knit group of friends, more like a band of brothers. That day, he was sitting down, drinking ale with them and laughing at the stories from their first travels together when he noticed a familiar shock of dark hair from the table in front of him... except it couldn't be her, could it? How could it be? She had told him she could never leave Ulaid and her family, especially not when his father was still alive. But he was dead now, and Conall had reigned for years, so there was hope yet.

The only one to immediately notice his suddenly quiet demeanour was Osferth, who nudged him. "Finan, are you all right?" he asked, slightly concerned. Finan sighed.

"I'm gonna try something," he told Osferth, who remained confused. "Just - Maeve!" He didn't know where the courage to shout her name to a girl who was probably not even her in the first place had come from, but he was soon rewarded for it.

Maeve thought she heard a voice yelling her name from behind, but hesitated a little. It couldn't be him... could it? It was supposed to be impossible. How had she managed to find him so far away from home? Of course, it could just be wishful thinking, but that voice was so distinct it had to be real. Nobody else in this tavern could have the Irish brogue that Finan had. She turned around and her eyes widened.

"Finan?"

Neither of them could believe their luck, each staring at the other in disbelief. Though both of them had certainly grown, it was unmistakable. While Finan remained glued to his seat in shock, Maeve stood up at once and walked over to meet him, her eyes welling up with tears in spite of her efforts not to cry. "You're all grown up," she said finally, and both of them laughed. He stood up and smiled, before they hugged each other tightly, making up for the years they had lost together.

"I never once forgot you," he promised her, his gaze never once leaving her face. "You were the greatest friend I could have ever asked for, and I wish I had told you just how much I bloody appreciated you being there for me and my idiot brother when we'd argue and get angry, and how you were the only one that could calm me down -"

"Don't worry," Maeve smiled, squeezing his hand. "I know. I never forgot you either. Y'know, I appreciated you too, from the time you helped me pick all those stupid things up when you bumped into me the first time around, even if I thought you were an annoyingly smug bastard at first."

"Ah, that bit of him never changed, then," Sihtric quipped, eliciting a laugh from Maeve. Finan took the opportunity to introduce all of them to her. They all knew of Maeve and the story between them - it was something Finan spoke of many times, both on the slave ship with Uhtred and afterwards, but Maeve herself had a lot of catching up to do regarding Finan.

A few hours later, they were all slightly drunk and laughing together, and Maeve felt like she was at home with these men, who seemed to have accepted her as one of their own already. She found herself sneaking more and more glances at Finan as the afternoon progressed into the evening, only to find him looking back most of the time. She would immediately look away, her face burning, but nobody noticed - or so she thought.

Contrary to what the others believed, Osferth had not had as much to drink as perhaps Sihtric had, and quickly noticed the looks that Maeve and Finan shared over the table. A grin spread across his face as he quietly nudged Sihtric and whispered his suspicions in his ear. Unfortunately, Sihtric was too drunk to be tactful and started laughing. "Finan, is there anything you're hiding from us?" he said loudly, throwing an arm around his friend. "Your love for someone, perhaps?"

"You're drunk, you silly bastard," Finan laughed, although his eyes betrayed him. How had they been so quick to notice? Maeve was still as beautiful and funny and vivacious as she had been when they were seventeen, and he realised then that he was still in love with her, and had never stopped loving her the whole time. He had simply been distracted.

"What about you, Maeve?" Osferth said, causing her to blush somewhat.

"What about me?" she asked sharply, setting her ale down. She could hear Sihtric snickering faintly in the background and resisted the urge to lean over and smack his head with his mug of ale.