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Cam hoped his face didn't show any reaction when he thought he heard a soft growl coming from the direction of Juniper. Was she growling? That's what they needed right now: the young woman drawing further attention to herself - or maybe it was a wild animal joining the mix. He couldn't determine what was going on unless he turned his head and he was damned if he would take his eyes off the Fae. Oddly enough, Cam recalled that some said carrying Juniper berries could ward off the Fae. He doubted the name would cause the same result, but he found in interesting, regardless.
The rider finally slid her gaze back to him. Her expression was one of amused tolerance, which was neither a good sign nor a bad sign. It just was.
“Fìor dheagh,” she said and seemed to dismiss the previous direction of their conversation. “Tha thu air ceangal soirbheachail leis a’ chlaidheamh.” Cam nodded, once. He was not expected to speak at this point, since it was more of a statement than a question. “Is tu Stiùbhard do chinnidh, is tu Seneschal.”
“Sabaididh mi an Dorchadas. Cumaidh mi an solas,” he said. It was the traditional reply.
“Tha fios agam gun dèan thu.” That was not the traditional response. It should have been 'Chan urrainn dhut ach feuchainn.'
Cam tried to determine what the rider was intending to mean by this, since a deviation from the ritual's aftermath was on no record he remembered reading, and the Fae never explained themselves. He wasn't sure what to say, so he opted to remain silent.
“Bheir thu buaidh,” she continued. Was she referring to finding his father's killer, and possibly defeating him or bringing him to Justice? Or was she referring to the endless battle with the Dark Forces? When did his life become some sort of supernatural soap opera?
“Thigibh thugam,” she added tersely, a different smile suddenly pinned to her face. Cam decided not to think about her expression too much and stood, walking as calmly toward the Fae as possible, fighting the impulse to run, and paused a few feet away from her huge mount. “Do làmh”. He held out his left hand. Swiftly, before he even realized what was happening, her left hand took hold of his, as a snake might strike its prey.
Cam made a small sound, not unlike the word 'oh', but not the word 'oh', as his hand was snapped back at the wrist.
Translation - fìor dheagh - very well.
Translation - tha thu air ceangal soirbheachail leis a’ chlaidheamh - You have successfully bonded with the sword.
Translation - Is tu Stiùbhard do chinnidh, is tu Seneschal - You are the steward of your clan, you are the Seneschal.
Translation - Sabaididh mi an dorchadas - I will fight the Darkness.
Translation - Cumaidh mi an solas - I will keep the Light.
Translation - Tha fios agam gun dèan thu - I know you will.
Translation - Chan urrainn dhut ach feuchainn - You can only try.
Translation - Bheir thu buaidh - You will prevail.
Translation - Thigibh thugam - Come to me.
Translation - Do làmh - Your hand.
The rider finally slid her gaze back to him. Her expression was one of amused tolerance, which was neither a good sign nor a bad sign. It just was.
“Fìor dheagh,” she said and seemed to dismiss the previous direction of their conversation. “Tha thu air ceangal soirbheachail leis a’ chlaidheamh.” Cam nodded, once. He was not expected to speak at this point, since it was more of a statement than a question. “Is tu Stiùbhard do chinnidh, is tu Seneschal.”
“Sabaididh mi an Dorchadas. Cumaidh mi an solas,” he said. It was the traditional reply.
“Tha fios agam gun dèan thu.” That was not the traditional response. It should have been 'Chan urrainn dhut ach feuchainn.'
Cam tried to determine what the rider was intending to mean by this, since a deviation from the ritual's aftermath was on no record he remembered reading, and the Fae never explained themselves. He wasn't sure what to say, so he opted to remain silent.
“Bheir thu buaidh,” she continued. Was she referring to finding his father's killer, and possibly defeating him or bringing him to Justice? Or was she referring to the endless battle with the Dark Forces? When did his life become some sort of supernatural soap opera?
“Thigibh thugam,” she added tersely, a different smile suddenly pinned to her face. Cam decided not to think about her expression too much and stood, walking as calmly toward the Fae as possible, fighting the impulse to run, and paused a few feet away from her huge mount. “Do làmh”. He held out his left hand. Swiftly, before he even realized what was happening, her left hand took hold of his, as a snake might strike its prey.
Cam made a small sound, not unlike the word 'oh', but not the word 'oh', as his hand was snapped back at the wrist.
Translation - fìor dheagh - very well.
Translation - tha thu air ceangal soirbheachail leis a’ chlaidheamh - You have successfully bonded with the sword.
Translation - Is tu Stiùbhard do chinnidh, is tu Seneschal - You are the steward of your clan, you are the Seneschal.
Translation - Sabaididh mi an dorchadas - I will fight the Darkness.
Translation - Cumaidh mi an solas - I will keep the Light.
Translation - Tha fios agam gun dèan thu - I know you will.
Translation - Chan urrainn dhut ach feuchainn - You can only try.
Translation - Bheir thu buaidh - You will prevail.
Translation - Thigibh thugam - Come to me.
Translation - Do làmh - Your hand.