A Highlander's Promise

Awkward Conversations

They were fast walking through the large hallways when they began to break out into a run, Ian leading, Leora following, and Fionn trailing behind.

Feeling the breeze between her thighs as she ran was a chilling sensation, but awkwardly felt as she tried to support her breasts from bouncing uncontrollably with her hands in each fast stride she took.

This was worse than that time she had to run 5 laps around the track at her school and her bra straps unhooked from her bra at the end of the first lap. For the next 10 minutes she had to run with her hands on her chest awkwardly as to not let the bra fall to her waist due to her constant movement. At least it was an all-girls gym class. Here she was passing random strangers who made her out to be some sort of lunatic and two quite decent looking men, one in front and one behind her. She certainly wasn't going to let the man she insulted earlier witness the awkward sight of her holding her own breast and did as best as she could to outrun him.

After taking a series of turns and navigating through the endless passages of the castle, Ian came to a stop in front of a door. Leora and Fionn did the same.

Opening the door revealed a room full of large empty bins and some large bins filled with heaps of clothing and fabric.

They entered the room and found women sorting linens in piles and into the bins. Leora noticed that there was another door on the other side of the room leading to the outside. Some women were carrying these bins outside and returning with empty ones.

"Have you seen Beathag?" Ian asked in Gaelic to no lady in particular.

A woman looked up at him, spoke a few words and pointed towards the direction of the door.

They crossed the room and as they reached the outside, Leora noticed women by the water in the distance. They were washing laundry and others were hanging laundry to dry upon clothing lines.

As they approached the group of women, Fionn spotted the elderly lady amongst those hanging the bed sheets and after they reached her Ian spoke.

"Beathag, do you know what you might've done with the lass's clothes?"

"Of course I know what I did with them, I bathed her," the elderly woman replied in Gaelic.

"Of course you do," Fionn said impatiently.

"Would you mind telling us where they are?" Ian asked kindly.

"You won't find them, if that's what you're looking for. They're ashes by now. I sent them with that young maid, Mor, to burn the useless and immodest rags. I saw them burn before my eyes," Beathag replied.

Leora understood from the men's expressions that whatever happened to her clothes, she wouldn't be getting them back now.

As Beathag went back to work, Ian and Fionn guided Leora back to the castle.

"They're gone aren't they," Leora asked hoping to be wrong,

"Burnt to ashes," Fionn confirmed.

"But what does it matter now? You have new clean clothes now. I doubt you would have want to wear those strange outlandish clothes anyways," Ian said trying to be reassuring.

But he wasn't. Not to her at least.

They were my ticket home.

She had nothing now. Nothing in this world was familiar, not even her own clothing.

She kept a blank face as she tried to see the bright side to all of this.

Maybe there was another way to go home. Maybe fate intended that her clothes be burned?