A HIGHLAND TALE 13/?
BY LEELEE AND SEEKERONE
RATING: NC-17. Although this chapter is more angst and plot than 
smut, the whole series will steam up the monitor. You're warned! 
CATEGORY: Sc/Sk, Mulder/O.F. 
ARCHIVE:  Probably. Just ask.
COMMENTS:  We're on the home stretch here. As always most humble 
thanks to our superb beta, Sylvie, who was willing to work on this in 
the aftermath of New York and D.C. 
SUMMARY:  Scully gets her reward.
SPOILERS: Don't think I saw any of this in the seventh season, or 
even before that. 
DISCLAIMERS: You really think they're ours? 
FEEDBACK: Worshipped, adored, read and reread again and again. Drop 
us a note and let us know what you think: clueseek@swbell.net or 
Viceyy@aol.com  
And, until we get our long delayed web site up, if you'd like to have 
new chapters of whatever story we're working on sent directly to you, 
subscribe to our broadcast list -- The Southern Ladies Smut Writers 
Association. Just send an e-mail to: slswa-subscribe@yahoogroups.com  

Chapter 13

The Chapel
Kicking her long skirts out of the way, Rhiannon paced restlessly 
outside the tiny stone chapel. Her servants had freshened the small 
room and tied stalks of wheat around the pillars as a sign of luck 
and fertility. Through the open door, she could smell the scent of 
the beeswax candles burning on the altar. All around her, the clan 
stood waiting to witness the plighting. A sense of anticipation was 
heavy in the air. The people of the clan McKinnon were thrilled at 
the prospect of a wedding, and of course, the unexpected festivities 
afterward. 

Everything was in readiness, but for the absence of Isabel's 
groom. 'Where the devil is that man?' Rhiannon thought as she stormed 
back into the chapel to wait. The new priest, a timid little man, 
waited patiently at the altar. He met her eyes and smiled briefly. 
Rhiannon frowned at his temerity and he quickly turned away.	

The freesword Skinner was there, she noted, looking as stern and hard 
as any soldier, his soon-to-be wife beside him. Pausing in her 
pacing, Rhiannon smiled encouragingly at Dana. The morning sunlight 
sparkled on the gold thread in her heavy brocade dress. Rhiannon had 
given her these new garments, hastily altered, and insisted 
fastidiously that everyone bathe for the occasion. 

Even little Isabel looked lovely this morning, the blue velvet robes 
perfect for her blonde hair and pale skin. She was still in shock 
from Donald's desertion, but she would soon recover with the bairn on 
the way. The question was, where was her groom?

Rhiannon fingers drummed on her thigh. Damn Jamie for his insolence, 
she thought, as she glared around her. She had told him last night in 
her solar that marrying the maid was his responsibility. The tall 
captain had stared back at her in shock and disbelief. She had 
expected an argument, wanting him to challenge hre arbitrary 
decision. Instead, he had turned on his heel and stormed out of the 
chamber without a word or backward glance. Rhiannon had bitten her 
tongue to keep from calling him back. The marriage would be best for 
everyone, including Isabel, she argued to herself. She ignored the 
little voice in her heart that screamed this was a mistake, that she 
would deeply and bitterly regret her actions. 

Finally, there was a stir at the edge of the crowd and Rhiannon saw 
two tall men coming toward her. Jamie, she'd know his stride 
anywhere. Finally. She almost overlooked Fox, who was walking beside 
him. Both men were freshly bathed, shaved and dressed in kilts of the 
clan tartan. She heard several of the women sigh and giggle at the 
fine sight. Part of her wondered why the two rivals were together, 
but another part of her remembered that night in the solar. The lean 
hard male bodies in the flickering candlelight. The feel of a rough 
hand on her breast, pinching her nipple. The slap of balls against 
her pussy as he pounded into her. The hot spurt of come trickling 
down her legs. Stop it, you fool, she chided herself. You're marrying 
him off. Ye'll not lust after another woman's husband. She turned to 
face the priest, nodding curtly at him to begin.

Dana and the freesword stood to her left while Jamie and Isabel were 
on her right with Fox right behind them. What the devil was he doing 
up here, anyway? Rhiannon wondered.

Father Hew made the sign of the cross to bless the two couples and 
began the ceremony. "E Numinous Patios, Fillies and Spiritus 
Sanctus." Rhiannon bit back a groan at his atrocious Latin. Then Dana 
gave a small gasp and suddenly went still beside her. 

By the holy family, don't faint, now. You will be all right, girl. 
I'm just not so sure about me, she thought. 

Smiling at Dana in silent encouragement, Rhiannon gathered herself. 
No, this is what must be. There is no other choice. The Lady was just 
turning to look at the other couple, when a brawny arm suddenly 
slipped around her waist. 

Before she could say anything, a familiar, husky voice whispered in 
her ear. "Hush, now. Na word. Or I'll confess everything that 
happened in your solar two nights ago." 

Jamie!  She'd know his touch anywhere. His hand grabbed hers and held 
it tight, clamping it to her side. She could feel the bones ache from 
the pressure.

Blessed Magdalene, he wouldn't dare! Rhiannon raged internally as the 
priest droned on. But if he did . . . dear God, she'd be ruined. The 
clan would turn a blind eye to her activities as long as she was 
discrete. But if it became a public scandal, Robert the Bruce would 
pack her off to a convent to spend the rest of her days in prayer and 
repentance. 

The priest now turned to Isabel and the tall thin man standing beside 
her. 

FOX! She was marrying Fox. No! Rhiannon wanted to scream. HE'S MINE. 
She even took a step forward when Jamie abruptly jerked her back 
against his chest. 

Rhiannon gave a short, angry grunt and then stood still, staring. The 
priest continued saying the words binding her beautiful Fox to the 
silly little blonde. Even after the final blessing, she remained 
straight and stiff as the grooms carefully kissed their new brides. 
The shouts and cheers of the clan echoed off the tall granite walls. 

Jamie released her hand and gently turned her to face him. "I couldna 
let you ruin three lives," he murmured. His lips carefully brushed 
her forehead in a gentle kiss. Then he withdrew, bowed stiffly and 
walked toward the great hall. His back was straight and stiff, his 
hand resting on the dagger tucked in his belt. 

The happy cheering crowd surged around the newlyweds as everyone 
headed for the great feast. Rhiannon felt like a stone pillar with 
the sea breaking around it. What had she done?


The Great Hall  

It was nice not to have to serve the meal for a change. As one of the 
brides, Scully was sitting at Rhiannon's table with her 'groom' by 
her side. A traveling minstrel had been summoned and was entertaining 
the wedding guests. Loud laughter rang through the great hall at his 
antics, but Scully couldn't focus long enough to figure out the bawdy 
songs. 

She could feel Skinner sitting tall and straight beside her. With the 
exception of offering her more ale, he hadn't said a word to her. She 
watched the muscle jump in his clenched jaw out of the corner of her 
eye. He was as uncomfortable as she was. Or was he just playing the 
part of the respectable groom? She didn't know. If she could get up 
the nerve to actually look at the man, maybe she could figure it out.

The minstrel made a comment directed at her and everyone laughed. 
Scully ducked her head, trying to blush and appear demure. It was 
better than letting anyone see that she hadn't been paying attention. 
The platters of food kept coming, but all she could do was push the 
food around on her bread trencher. 

Her stomach was in knots.

It hadn't been that way when she was getting ready for the wedding. 
Skinner had said, "It's no big deal, Scully. Consider it an 
undercover assignment, just like that time you and Mulder were in 
picture perfect California. It's not like it's going to be legal." 

Taking his lead, she had maintained a casual attitude. It was, after 
all, a good way to distract Rhiannon and the rest of the clan. The 
drunken revelry would be the perfect opportunity to escape. So she 
had bathed and donned Rhiannon's heavy ivory gown with a smile on her 
face. 

She had gone to the small chapel door and calmly stood before the 
priest.

Took Skinner's large hand in her own and felt she could win an Oscar 
for her performance.

Only to totally panic at the words, "E Numinous Patios, Fillies and 
Spiritus Sanctus. . "  

No sooner had Father Hew said those words that the nagging knot in 
her stomach had formed and all she could think was...

"Oh SHIT."

No, it wouldn't be legally binding in our time, you big jerk, she 
thought. Then, there's this little problem I have with a Catholic 
upbringing. How am I going to deal with that? She had actually tried 
to tug away at that point. Skinner had looked down at her sternly and 
just gripped her hand tighter. She could almost read his thoughts 
telling her to 'just play along'.

Just play along?

It only took a few moments until she was his wife. Maybe they didn't 
have a wedding license, but they had kneeled before a priest and said 
the words. They were married in the eyes of God, and now what?

Why hadn't this occurred to her before? She could sit and analyze it 
if she had the nerve. At the moment though, she didn't. She feared 
that if she looked deep inside her psyche, she would discover that 
this was what she always wanted. That maybe the excitement of having 
her dilemma with Skinner worked out so perfectly, kept her from 
looking at it too closely. 

She just knew they had to get out of this place. Back to Nessa's and 
hopefully, home. Washington D.C. 2001.  Then she could see how things 
would go. Would Skinner accept it? Could she? 

Would Father McCue help her annul a marriage preformed by a priest 
who had been dead for what...a thousand years or so? 

Scully gave up the pretense of eating before she choked.  She rose 
with a murmured excuse to Skinner.  She desperately needed to get 
away from all the noise and smoke. Outside. Quiet. Fresh Air.  Peace.

She had just passed through the front door when Skinner caught up 
with her. Two drunken soldiers were leaning against the wall and 
loudly singing a ballad about a dark-haired woman who was waiting for 
her love. 

Scully was sure the woman would end up dying an old maid.

"Dana, wait." Skinner said and she turned and looked at his concerned 
face. Silently, he took her hand and pulled her away from the men and 
over to the stable area. The sun was starting to go down and the 
bailey was empty of people. He led her over to a large tree and 
turned to look down at her.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?" he asked.

She was about to answer that she was fine, but something in his face 
made her bite her tongue. They needed to deal with this one way or 
another. 

Rhiannon's words from the night before came back to her and swirled 
around her head. "The danger I am speaking about has nothing to do 
with a man ruling your person. No, what is the most frightening 
thing, what you cringe away from, is a man ruling yer heart." 

Taking a deep breath, she answered him. "Sir,. . I mean. . Walter, I 
know this was all just an act for you, but I'm having a hard time 
dealing with it."

Skinner took a step closer and ran his hand up her arm softly. "Why? 
Tell me Dana, I need to know."

"We stood before a Catholic priest!" she almost shouted.  Dana fought 
the urge to back away and continued in a quieter voice. "We stood 
before a priest, before God and made holy vows of marriage. I know 
this may sound old fashioned, but I was raised to respect that."

Skinner nodded slowly and she braced herself for what he would say to 
her declaration. 

She wasn't prepared for him to lean down and kissed her gently. It 
took her breath away. Straightening up, he looked over to the keep, 
the stables and then back at her. For the first time in all the years 
that she had known him, Walter Skinner looked unsure of himself. He 
started to say something and stopped. She waited. He started again 
but the words wouldn't come. Finally, he just pulled her into his 
arms and held her close. 

His body smelled clean and warm.

"Let's just try to get home, Dana." His breath ruffled her hair as he 
whispered in her ear. "Whatever you need from me, I'm willing to give 
it, but let's just get back first."

Scully felt his lips brush her ear and a shiver passed through her. 
He was right. They had to focus on one thing at a time. She shouldn't 
worry about what will happen. He was a good man and would help her 
with her moral crisis. She could trust him. Even if he didn't want a 
relationship, even if they could never work things out, she would 
give him the chance to see her heart.

Dana turned her head and met his lips with her own. Her kiss was deep 
and hot and he pulled her tightly against him. Their tongues touched 
and stroked intimately, tasting one another, owning one another. Not 
pulling apart until they were both desperate for air.

He stood back and looked at her, mumbled that they had to get back 
and wait for Mulder's cue to slip out. Tucking her hand in the crook 
of his arm, he led her back to the keep. 


Young Lord Bruce's Chamber 

Mulder had slipped away from the feasting when he saw Bruce being 
sent off to bed. Jamie had promised him to deal with Isabel. What he 
would tell the poor girl, Mulder had no idea. All that mattered was 
that he had Jamie's word that he would treat Isabel's child like his 
own. Despite Mulder's feelings for the overbearing man, he knew he 
could trust him on this. Jamie would make sure both the child and the 
mother were well cared for.

Right now though, Mulder wanted to see to another child's needs. A 
child, that if all went well, he would never see again. The sadness 
he felt was surprising. Amazing that after knowing these people so 
short a time, he had taken them into his heart so completely.

It just wasn't like him to feel closeness to people. With the 
exception of his partner and to some extent, his boss, Mulder kept 
everyone at a distance. 

There was just something about the McKinnon's that touched him deeply.

He sat on Bruce's bed while the child happily chatted on about the 
day. The juggling and troubadours had impressed him. Helping Bruce 
remove his boots, Mulder nodded his head silently and let the child 
rattle on. It wasn't until he was settled under the thick wool 
blanket that Mulder spoke.

"You've had a big day, haven't you?"

"Aye," Bruce responded and covered a huge yawn with one small hand.

"Father Hew seems to be nice." Mulder said absently and touched the 
boy's cheek.

Bruce thought this over a minute and answered. "He's na as much fun 
as taking my lessons with you."

Mulder laughed gently before saying, "Lord Bruce, I want you to do 
something for me." He looked intently at the boy, hoping he would 
understand. "I want you to study very hard and listen to your new 
teacher. Learn everything you can from him, and your mother, and 
Jamie." Bruce nodded, his whole manner sobering at Mulder's tone. 

"When you're the Bruce of the clan McKinnon, there will be times when 
you have to make hard decisions. To choose between what you want to 
do, and what's best for the clan. When that happens, and it will, 
remember what we've talked about  . . . and remember me." 

Bruce looked a bit confused at Mulder's words, but nodded solemnly. 
His soft child's eyelids drooped almost closed.  With a kiss brushed 
to the sleepy child's head, Mulder said goodnight and left the room 
and set out to find Jamie.

He found Rhiannon instead. She stood before her chamber doors and he 
could tell she had been waiting for him. They stood and stared at 
each other for the longest time, her in anger, him memorizing her 
face. He wanted to remember every part of her, every time they were 
together, so he could take them out and cherish them in his 
loneliness. Once again he was struck by the feeling that being with 
the clan McKinnon, he had somehow been changed.

Finally, Rhiannon spoke. "I could have you severely punished for 
this."

Mulder just gave her a soft, teasing smile. "Yes, but you won't."

Rhiannon sighed, she knew he was right. "Just tell me why, Fox? Why 
would you want to leave my bed?"

Mulder wanted to hold her so much he ached, but clenched his fists to 
his side instead. The bandages around his burned hand rubbed and 
stung.  He might never see her again and he wanted more than ever to 
leave her with something to hold onto. "Because, my Lady, I am not 
the one who belongs there." 

He watched the emotions clouding her face and knew he had said the 
right thing. Leaning in, he kissed her cheek softly and turned to 
walk away, leaving a subdued and thoughtful lady watching him go.
 
It was time to leave.

End of Chapter 13