A CHRISTMAS WISH

Chapter 40: Echo's of the Past

Alright readers, this chapter took me ages to write. I went over it again and again, trying to make it as perfect as I possibly could. 

It is very long, in fact i think it is more like 2 chapters in one, but i just couldn't leave you guys on a cliffhanger after all this time. 

U wont believe how happy i am to write this, it really came from the heart. I wanted this chapter to be everything you guys have come to expect from this story, humorous, exciting, unexpected and fun but i wanted to delve deeper into their emotions as well. 

I have waited years to write not because i couldn't but because i didn't want it to be half arsed. 

I pray you guys can see feel the effort and heart that went into this. I write for my fans, I write to make you guys happy and to get these words swirling in my head out. 

I would be really grateful if you blessed this one with lots of votes and especially comments. Feedback keeps me going, and I need it. So don't be shy telling me what you think. Especially with this chapter, I pray it has not lost any of its magic. 

Now what are you waiting for, get to reading, hopefully you will feel as i did, exultant at meeting old friends again. 

p.s give the rest of my stuff a chance too, you might just be pleasantly surprised.

HAPPY READING!!!!!

Echoes of the Past

Two hours down the line Sarah wasn't just cribbing below her breath about not liking surprises.

In fact, it felt like she had demanded Iain take her back to the keep numerous times already. Not that it had gotten her anywhere, all her whining and complaining had accomplished nothing but aggravate the hell out of her, and amuse the pants of of him, to the point where Sarah had threatened Iain with dire consequences if he so much as snickered in her immediate vicinity. At wits end, irked by Iain's adamant refusal to take her seriously, Sarah had informed him quite forcefully, about thirty or so minutes ago, that she wouldn't say another word to him until he took her back, his whispered "thank the Lord" hadn't exactly won him any brownie points.

So, now here she was, sitting in front of her husband, clasped securely in his arms, with nothing but a rough plaid acting as the only buffer between her sore arse and the bony back of Iain's monstrosity of a horse, lamenting her fate at landing the most annoying barbarian ever.

For every mile they trudged through the hilly terrain, for every jarring jolt the horse gave her on the uneven mountain tracks, for every time she looked down into the harrowing depths of yet one more densely forested valley below her, Sarah felt her mood go from bad to worse.

Unfortunately Iain's temperament wasn't similarly inclined, supremely unconcerned by her darkening mood and the very real prospect of being pushed off of his horse, Iain doggedly continued a completely one-sided diatribe, thoroughly enjoying Sarah's unsuccessful speech embargo.

For a man who had often acted like conversation was anathema to him, he sure could jabber on at length when Sarah refused to talk to him.

All of a sudden he was a veritable font of useless information.

He seemed to enjoy telling her nonsensical tales about the mountains, about ogres and gremlins, faeries and giants, and when he ran out of those he made up silly little tidbits about the stunning scenery all around them or the few wispy white clouds floating in the pristine blue sky high up above their heads, and then, when even that didn't score so much as a peep out of her, he went on at length about the English and their primitive ways.