Holiday Special

Christmas special as promised! Or, sort of. It's late. But it's here! This is a scene from the planned prequel of my series Tide, about three quarters of the way through. I can't give you too much setting or it'll give away important parts of the blot. But basically they're in the middle of a war and the character Alex believes that it's a bad idea. He's currently "engaged" to Niamh Norcross(Thank you Natalee Gehred for the name!). So without further ado, there you go!

Singing to herself, Niamh was re-weaving the threads of an old blanket when Alex's telltale footstep appeared outside her tent, hesitating.

"Alex?"

Resigned, he pressed the heavy tent flap aside, ignoring it's scrape against his knuckles. Niamh stood from her weaving stool, waiting. For something. What it was would depend on how Fiona had responded.

"What did she say?"

Just standing there, watching him gather himself back together in the edge of her home, she could see things she had pretended not to notice before. He hadn't shaved, or worn the mended trousers, or remembered to redress his shoulder after lunch. If he'd even eaten lunch, which probably hadn't, locked up in that planning room all day facing off against... everything. He was far too thin for the strong arms she remembered. Hadn't it only been a few weeks since this all started? His face was too steady. The more she saw, the more he seemed like a stranger. She stopped looking.

Forcing her eyes to stay steady on his face, she tried again.

"Alex, what happened?"

He cleared his throat, trying to speak.

"She, uh. She didn't..." He broke off.

Alex wasn't the only one who looked changed. She waited patiently as he struggled to get the words out. To patiently. Her face too carefully arranged into a calm mask. She hadn't even tucked her faded blouse back into the wide belt when she stood.

"She didn't believe me." He frowned, clearing his throat again and shaking his head. That didn't come out right. Niamh took a hesitant step towards him, suddenly unsure of what to do.

"She said I was... giving up. On us all."

He shook his head again. The words were tearing up his chest as he tried to push them out.

"Said I was betraying everyone we'd lost."

Niamh stepped forward again, just a little closer as his shoulders shuddered a little. She wanted to hold him.

"She's wrong. You know that."

He covered the rest of the distance himself, taking one of the trembling hands she'd hidden behind her back and grasping it tightly between them both.

"She's obsessed Niamh. She won't back down." His voice cracked again and she curled her other hand up around the back of his neck.

"Fiona's going to kill us all." His eyes met hers and she started to shake as a single tear leaked down his cheek.

"Niamh, I can't..." His voice died again and he fought to get it back.

"I can't lose you."

Her throat closed up on her and she pressed herself against his heaving chest.

She couldn't handle that broken tone.

"No, Alex, don't say that." She nuzzled her head into his neck.

"I'm not going anywhere. We're going to be fine, okay? We always make it." Her voice had turned pleading.

He couldn't bear to tell her she was wrong, but she knew he was thinking it. She wanted to somehow reassure him he couldn't lose her. It simply wasn't possible.

So he just clutched her close to him. Tried to believe for just a second that she was right.

"Okay. I'll marry you, alright? Soon. Tomorrow."

"Tonight." she countered.

"Tonight." he agreed.

"I'll marry you and once this is all over we can go to one of the islands." He pulled away just enough to see her tear-streaked face.

"How do you feel about becoming a pirate?"

She gave a slightly hysterical laugh.

"Sure, why not?" her voice was watery, but her grip on his shoulders was strong.

"What else do we have to lose?"

He dipped his head once, deciding.

"Right then. I'll call Mother Storm and she can officiate."

Niamh nodded along, her hands coming up to cup his face

"Do you still have that blue dress I like?"

"I think my sister has it."

"Well get it back, and wear that one. With that shell clip." He was speaking too fast, trying to finish planning before... before... No. Not before anything. There's nothing coming. Just tonight.

Niamh picked up where he left off.

"Good. And you wear the mended pants. I can weave some bands for rings in a minute or so, and your little brother Riptide can carry them."

"Perfect!"

He kissed her hard then, drowning out all the worries for a few precious moments.

"I love you, Niamh Norcross."

"And I love you, Alex Hark."

He gave her one more peck on the lips before bounding out the entrance.

"In an hour, you shall be my wife!"

She nodded, touching her lips with her still-shaking fingertips, and whispered to herself.

"Till death do us part."