My Wee Mate

10 - Nothing More, Nothing Less

Ailsa

I spend the day covered in an excited glow. I didn't notice at first, going about my day happily ignorant of my cheery nature, until it was time for our midday meal that is.

When I slid into my normal seat, reaching for my meal, I realized that Gentry was staring at me. I pulled my head up and addressed her with my gaze.

She had a slight smile painted on her face, the way her lips tilted emphasizing the oval shape of her face.

"What has you so chipper, lass?" The question was clear as day despite the many sounds of the boisterous dining hall.

I fumbled with the pitcher, almost spilling as I tried to fill my cup.

I gave some made up answer about my lungs feeling great today, and she hardly believed me. I saw the doubt in her eyes as she ate her food, watching me carefully like a hawk that's prepared to strike.

Each bite I took felt like agony, and then it was over and I snuck away before my nosy maid could
press me anymore.

My mind kept returning to Fraser. I didn't know much about him, but his name felt like more than enough for the time being.

He's not a very nice man, but for some reason I like him.

It's as if he's not afraid to tiptoe around me. He doesn't treat me like a delicate flower thats prepared to wilt at any sign of negativity. It's because he doesn't know who I am, he has no clue of my status in the clan, and he certainly doesn't know anything of my harsh illness that follows me like a shadow.

At first, his crass nature towards me was shocking, and fear soon followed. After the second visit though, I was warming up to the idea of him more and more. His treatment of me was refreshing, oddly enough.

I've never had the opportunity to speak to someone who didn't already have a preconceived view of me, and how to treat me as a result. To Fraser, I am just another person. In his mind, I could be anyone, be anything. It's encouraging, allowing me to shape an image of myself that isn't about my clan, isn't about my disease.

I'm just Ailsa. To Fraser I am simply a young blonde girl. Knowing that is invigorating.

It's something I consider all day as I ready myself for another midnight visit. I evaluate each emotion as it comes, letting it sink in and revelling in it. I never thought my father would take a prisoner, and I had no idea he would change me in so many ways by just showing up.

His face flashes in my mind as I feign getting ready for bed. My breath catches thinking of that beard covered face, so angular and spotted with smudges of dirt and grease. Despite all of that, despite the smell of his breath and body odor, he was so unbelievably handsome.

I can still recall his dark brown eyes, so very dark that they were almost black. His hair was messy and brunette, tousled with waves and shiny with oils.

Fraser is striking, and even though I have only seen him once, his image is burned into my brain as if I've seen it every day for years. Somehow I know that if the first time I saw him had also been the last, I could recall the slight bend in his nose for years to come.

Gentry tucks me into bed, pulling the white, linen covers up to my chin and sitting on the edge of the bed. I swallow my guilt at tricking her as she tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Sleep well, little Ailsa. You are my world." I grin up at her, jumping forward suddenly to wrap my arms around her thick neck, allowing her to pull me close.