CW: blood, weapons
***
Aaliyah has relaxed greatly, Harry notices. She was initially tense during the first minute and a half of her playing, but now her shoulders look at ease, her wrists having more movement to them. She holds her head high instead of caving into her chest, and she looks like she genuinely enjoys the piece.
Harry tucks his hands into his pockets, watching her. Mesmerized as he knew he'd be, it's impossible to take his eyes off of her at this moment. The melody flows from her fingertips, and she has the notes perfectly timed. Her back is straight, her dress bunched up at the floor.
He could write poetry about her. He could paint her. His beautiful muse.
Faiz and Ruhina were nearby when he saw them at the refreshments table. He stopped paying attention to them after some time, too engrossed in Aaliyah's playing. She looks like she belongs there on the dais with people watching her. As if she is royalty. As if she is Psyche herself.
A few people around him want to get closer, so he moves out of the way to let him crowd around her better. He takes a sip of his water and moves closer to the exit where there's a lack of a crowd and he can see her more easily.
In the midst of his next sip, he feels a hand grip his arm tightly, enough to make him wince, and he imagines it's someone like James ready to pester him again, so he shakes his arm gently to get him to let go, but then he also feels something hard against his back.
Then there's a voice in his ear. "Mr. Styles. Pleasure to finally meet you." Nobody can hear the revolver against his spine get cocked into place except him. "Now move."
***
Aaliyah looks over to see who has gripped her shoulder so tightly, the thick Scots accent sounding like anything but home to her. She wants to hear one voice, one English posh accent, one deep tone that has her mind reeling. She glances back and sees Alistair instead, his eyes round with worry, and Faiz and Ruhina behind him. They seem to have grabbed him after they were unable to follow her themselves.
She tries to break her arm away from him. "You wouldna dare to keep me here. I need to find him."
"You canna think you'd be doing that yourself, Liya," Alistair says incredulously. After some more relentless tugging, he releases her and nearly sends her flying to the floor. She stumbles, catching herself.
Aaliyah peers at him closely. He has a funny look on his face as if he understands the situation but will not be saying what he thinks out loud. That's how she knows he's thinking the exact thing she is. "You dinna think he just went for a drink? I have been saying this and nobody–"
"That man was green from drink last time I saw him. He wasna going to drink more."
"Aye," she says, more angrily. "I said I keep saying this to everyone, but nobody is listening to me. Perhaps if you announce it, we could...we could set out a search party and have him found as early as possible."
"I dinna believe having a search party right now is the best idea. Especially not on the night of your sister's reception." He glances around. "Plus, I dinna think many people will be eager to find the Sassenach. Everyone's drunk and they're not going to care."
"They will!"
Alistair looks at her skeptically. "Liya, he is spoken to only due to your friendship. In the end, he's still a foreigner. And the jokes are made at his expense."
"Da would make them help me."
He swivels around to look at her father. "I dinna believe he's all that concerned about anyone aside from Isla right now."
She glances behind her, glancing at her father on the dais. He's sitting on the throne-like feature with her mother beside him, drinking merrily and laughing at the dancers. She looks around them, doing a quick circle. The music is loud, the laughter irritatingly harsh, and the people around her far too occupied for her liking. Is this how he always feels, coming to public events? She feels bad for dragging him along.
"I ken where he could be," she says firmly, looking at Faiz and Ruhina. "I do."
Ruhina says uneasily, "Aaliyah, even if you do know, what can you do about it? And if he's in danger like you're saying–"
"I ken how to deal with it." She swallows and looks Alistair in the eye. "As long as I have some help."
"I'll help you find the bastard all right, but you canna be so sure that he's still on castle grounds."
"He is."
Faiz breaks in, "I'm dreadfully sorry but this unspoken conversation we're having is very difficult to follow. Why would he be in danger and how would he still be on castle grounds and how are you so sure of that?" He leans on his cane uncomfortably. "This talk is quite frightening. I fear you'll mention the use of a weapon next."
Aaliyah's eyebrows raise. She continues looking at Alistair. "Would be a decent possibility."
"You're not serious," Ruhina says. "Could he really be in that type of danger?"
"If we're assuming we're right about who has taken him."
Aaliyah raises her chin. "I am sure."
"And you ken where he could be," Alistair says.
"Basically."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that if we split up, we'll be able to find him."
Alistair says, "We are not splitting up. And no offense but," he juts his chin towards Lord and Lady Ahman, "they dinna seem like the type to be able to pursuit."
"Unfortunately I must agree," Faiz interjects, slightly irritated about the way they speak without them there. "I must remind you all that I have a cane, and the only use it'll be good for is breaking a man's ankle."
"It may be necessary," Aaliyah mutters to herself, now pacing. "It could be possible. We'll all go together but at some point we must split up. There are multiple tunnels and hallways where we're going."
He stares at her.
"Fine, I will take the Lord. But you must stay with the Lady," Alistair says. He must have belief in her plan.
He turns towards Ruhina, looking down at her with a fierce look. The image could be startling to anyone who's watching them. A large Scotsman peering over Ruhina's thin frame, gazing deeply, angrily at her. He murmurs, "If she starts acting up, you do something about it, my lady."
Ruhina's big eyes widen, her lips thinning. "Er. Okay."
"I am not joking."
"What do you want me to do, drag her back?"
"Aye," Aaliyah says coldly, giving Alistair her best evil eye. "You are being a real dick right now. I can handle myself."
"All I'm saying," Alistar replies, "is that you are going to get all caught up in your emotions and put yourself at risk." he takes a breath. "If we are right about this and who has taken him... if that bastard has managed to get himself abducted, then you need to be prepared when seeing Graham again."
"You dinna need to be vague, they already know."
He stops hovering over Ruhina, narrowing his eyes. "Keep Aaliyah in check."
She swears at him in Gaelic, and he smiles. "Aye. Now, tell us where to start."
Still irritated by the loudness in the ballroom, Aaliyah squeezes her eyes shut tightly. "We need to get out of here first or my ears will burst."
Alistair agrees and with a quick look around to make sure nobody is watching them, he files them out into the long hallway, barely lit with any candles or lanterns. The lack of light makes the operation more serious, Ruhina and Faiz no longer looking apprehensive, but ready for the challenge.
Aaliyah pulls them out even more, playing their backs against the stone, grey wall to hide them into the shadows of the darkness. In her head, she visualizes the castle, where she too had been taken, and she maps out the walls in her head. The floorboards beneath the kitchen. The empty hideouts near the throne room and the bedroom upstairs. There's only one way to get to the cavern.
"He is in the castle," she says softly. "I ken it. But we canna take an inside journey there. It is not possible, and there are too many guards. They wouldn't have gone anywhere indoors. Most rooms are locked."
"Did you see his family here?" Faiz says.
"No. I dinna think my family invited them."
"That may have made them angry."
"Aye. It isna only him that I suspect is angry at the whole ordeal from last year. It's his entire family because he'd been shamed. Thus his entire family had been shamed."
"So you don't think he's alone?"
"No, I think there is more than one of them. He is likely the ring leader with a guard." A shiver runs down Aaliyah's spine. "It's nothing we canna handle."
Faiz looks uncomfortable. Ruhina looks worried, chewing on her lower lip. Alistair just looks really pissed off.
"So, will you lead the way?" Ruhina asks quietly, releasing her lip. She cracks her wrists and stands up a little taller. "Do we... Do we need anything?"
"No," Aaliyah says, her stomach churning. "Let's go."
"Will we need weapons? In case... the other person does?"
Alistair opens up the lapel of his jacket and a handgun and dirk shine up at them. "Already set."
"You just have those with you?" She looks horrified and also impressed.
Alistair is offended. "You mean to tell me that as Lord and Lady, you dinna carry anything on you."
"No?"
"Well maybe you should. Liya," he turns back to face her. "Lead the way."
Aaliyah swallows and nods firmly. "Aye."
***
"We should have grabbed our coats," Alistair murmurs, checking his gun again for the seventh time. He wipes the snow off of it. Next to them Ruhina and Faiz are shivering, though they haven't said a single word against the mission so far.
The guards did not object to their excuse of taking a late night walk. They murmured about the lack of coats, but then sent them off. It made Aaliyah glad she hadn't gone alone. She wouldn't even have made it out the castle.
She's been staring at the snow, trying to make out footprints. But it's dark out with just the grey sky, and the wind continues to pick up snow, distributing it. The tall, bare trees make her uneasy.
"You said Harry's in the castle, so why are we so deep in the woods right now?"
"Different entrance."
"How do you ken this place?"
Aaliyah suppresses a shiver. "Been there."
Alistair peeks at her and then Faiz. "We'll find him safe, Liya. No need to be worried about that."
She glances at them. "I'm not worried. I'm angry. We spent all this time making sure I was safe, I never once thought to make sure he was too. The way we act in public, anybody could tell we're more than teacher and pupil."
"That wasna your fault."
Her jaw tenses. "It is."
"No, because your job was to be the sister of the bride. Not to be paranoid at all times over the smallest of noises," Faiz says, wrapping an arm around Ruhina. He pulls her in. Aaliyah looks away.
The blizzard outside makes Aaliyah's eyes squint, icy air hitting her bare arms and cheeks. Their legs are three inches deep in snow, and luckily they're all wearing boots, but Aaliyah's legs barely have any feeling left in them. Teeth chattering, she glances up at the sky, wrapping her arms around herself.
Alistair takes off his jacket and drapes it over Aaliyah's shoulders. She has to blink the snow away from her face before she looks at him.
"He willna be hurt, right?" she asks quietly, feet crunching in the snow. She takes the lead, spotting the entrance. "I dinna ken what I'll do with myself if he's hurt."
"He will be fine. Dinna fash, Liya. We'll find your man. What is this place?"
They've stopped in front of a cave-like structure with a wooden door. With white snow all around, one would not notice the door, but the snow is missing from the surface. It's in a pile at the entrance which tells her the door has been opened recently.
"It's called Lovers' Cavern. Graham showed it to me a long time ago. It leads underground back into the castle, but there's no entrance inside the castle to it. This is the only way you can get in." She reaches her trembling, stiff fingers to the door and gently pulls. The soft snow allows there to be less noise than there would be with its usual twigs and leaves on the ground. "Duck your head and come in."
The three of them look apprehensive as they duck their heads and follow her in. With the door shut, there's no light in the underground cavern. She guides her hands to the wall.
"Follow my voice. Hold onto the wall. And try not to trip."
Somewhere near her, Alistair swears.
***
"You're a real coward for this," Harry tells his captive who is currently pressing him to the stone wall, binding his hands behind his back, though Harry fears he sounds whiny because of the way his teeth chatter. Snow is still melting on his coat sleeves and hair, the water running down to his back. He pulls his lips together to stop the chattering, forcing his muscles to stop shivering, but it makes no difference. He winces when the man knees him in the back, forcing him to buckle and fall down to his own knees on the floor.
"Turn around."
Harry does so, resting his back on the stone wall. The man has blown out several lanterns so now it's just cold, wet, and dark in this room. Though dungeon is the correct word.
It took too long to get there, and he'd been subjected to any shelves and rustling as they left the castle and walked deep into the words bordering it. As they passed by, Harry recalled the way he and Aaliyah raced, though that should have been the last thing on his mind.
The room he's brought them to is under a cave like structure, which has been dark to walk through. He wouldn't have stumbled in without the gun leading him straight.
It looks like an abandoned prison cell with no lamps or lanterns aside for two. He doesn't know how he'll get back to the castle if he's released unscathed.
"You ken who I am," the man says bitterly, likely responding to Harry calling him a coward.
"Vaguely. I'm not very interested in getting to know you all that much however."
The man is taller than Harry, larger than him, and he has one thing Harry does not. A weapon that he is waving around carelessly.
"Although," Harry continues calmly, pretending like his kidneys aren't throbbing from the kick, "I do not understand why all this is necessary. I'm sure you have many more important people to abduct to make yourself known."
"Ah but it is you that I need."
"Ah," Harry mocks, "isn't it Aaliyah you need?"
The man crouches down in front of Harry. Not having said a word to Harry on the way here, pressing the revolver to Harry's spine the entire way, Harry can't help but be curious of the man he's heard so much about. He has burning red hair that falls down to his shoulders and dark eyes that make Harry not want to look at his face too long.
He uses the end of his gun to scratch his temple, and he sighs. "I'll tell you who I am, since there'll be nothing to save you." He peeks up the wooden door, a larger man standing in front of him. "Pity she never said my name. Maybe I frighten her a wee bit. Didna realize how little I meant to her though. Graham. My name is Graham."
"I said I'm not interested."
He sighs again. "You ken, Mr. Styles, I think you and I are both victims here. You obviously didna ask for this. I didna either. It's Aaliyah that's done us wrong. That stubborn, stupid girl. Doesna ken what's good for her."
Graham is a lot more than Harry had imagined. He had previously pictured a spineless man who didn't know how to speak properly (or so he hoped it was that person), but he realizes now that he was wrong. Graham is smarter than he assumed. Even without being at the wedding, he knew the best time that Aaliyah would be distracted would be when she would be playing.
"Are you good for her?" Harry asks.
Graham smiles, temporarily ignoring the question. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Styles. Heard you used to be this hot shot musician in England and now you're among the lowlifes. Stopped making money. Canna sell a damned thing anymore." He inspects his gun carefully. "Does that sound like someone who is good for Aaliyah?"
Harry narrows his eyes. "As opposed to?"
"Such a pity. Aaliyah tells you everything bad about me. Tells the whole world, but she doesna tell you everything, does she?"
"I trust what she says."
"Of course. Why wouldna you? It's so ... ah what's the English word?" He sits down, legs sprawled out in front of Harry, "convenient that you've decided to believe every word of Aaliyah's. What, Sassenach? You think you ken her?"
"I do know her."
"Do you? Or are you just choosing to fool yourself. You've ken her for how long? Two months? Three? More? And you think you really ken her?" He laughs humorlessly, and it makes Harry wince, the loud noise bouncing off the empty walls. "You think you can start new with a woman who is impressionable, who will only see your good sides? You, Mr. Styles, have ugly sides, and Aaliyah doesna like to look at them."
Harry doesn't say anything. He watches Graham set the gun down and reach into his lapel for something. He removes a dirk and unsheathes it. Shuffling closer, he holds it out and gently traces down Harry's neck, getting the blade under Harry's necktie. With a quick motion, he rips through the satin material, nicking Harry's neck in the process.
"Aaliyah saw all of my sides," Graham says. "And she accepted me. You dinna mind your clothes getting all ripped, do you? We've got to paint a scene for when your body is found, ye ken? Dinna fash, I'll make it real believable. Make it look like we got into a fight."
He pulls the dirk back and then uses the pointy end to make marks over his shoulder, not enough to cut his skin, but enough to make the fabric of his shirt look stressed. After he's done, they look like fingernails have dug into his shoulder. He does the same to his sides. Under his ear as well.
"And how did that work out for you? Aaliyah seeing your ugly sides," Harry says, ignoring the pain in his neck. He's too pissed off to care right now. "She ran away from you, didn't she? Fucked up your whole life and then went away."
It's the wrong thing to reply because Graham raises his fist and slams it into Harry's jaw. Harry's head snaps back, pain spreading through his face rapidly as well as his head where his skull has collided against the stones.
"You're very impatient, Sassenach," Graham says, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to gently wipe his knuckles. "I am going to kill you, but not until you understand your place. As a foreigner in my business and in my country."
Harry coughs.
Graham continues, "Aaliyah has clearly told you many things, but she hasna told you the most important thing. We were always together, Sassenach. It was decided a long time ago that we would be wed when I inherited the estate from my father." He shrugs. "I waited. We were always great friends, Aaliyah and I." His thick accent rolls.
"Friends," Harry murmurs. He runs his tongue over his lip, surprised to find it bleeding already.
"It was not I she ran away from. There were a number of things before it was me. It was her family, her sister, her work. All of it was just forgotten. The change was so sudden, nobody knew what to make of it. So I asked her. Worried about her."
Aaliyah would not run away from her family. She tears up at the mere idea of them. Harry knows this.
Graham says, "She just got overwhelmed by the idea of marriage, it seems. Confused. That's all she was. She was very admired by me. I was the one she wanted. I would have cared for her, kept her fed, given her all the children she wanted to make her life meaningful. But she ran from her duties as my betrothed."
Harry scoffs, looking him dead in the eye. "She was never your betrothed."
Graham snarls suddenly and the change of tone makes Harry nearly jump. She would be if she didna make up lies about how I treated her. That ungrateful wrench! I gave her everything. I promised her land and a home. Children! My name! She would have been the mistress of the estate! Now look at her groveling for attention from men like you. She was confused!"
The dirk is back in his face, Graham seething. Coming closer, Graham presses his knee down on Harry's ankle, causing pain to erupt in the joints there.
"Confused and terrified," Harry says, wincing, his hands forming fists, "are two vastly different things."
"Terrified?" Graham booms, voice echoing again. "She was not terrified. She didna run crying and screaming. She was nervous about leaving her family. Nervous about living with a man. Lying with one. She wasna terrified. Those are her lies." He crouches down, releasing his hold on Harry's leg. Harry mutters a swear in relief. "You canna think that you deserve her. I deserve her. I worked hard for her. She is mine to have as a wife, as a woman, as the mother of my children."
Harry finally registers the acute sense of fear at the way Graham is speaking with such delusions, his eyes bright with anger, dirk waving around in his face. His accent is getting almost incomprehensible with his fury.
"She is not an object for you to have," Harry says slowly, shaking his foot to make sure he can still feel it.
"Come now. You dinna mean that. Perhaps not for me to have, but not an object?" A manic smile suddenly takes over Graham's shadowed face. "Is she not an investment for you? You and I, Mr. Styles, maybe we're not that different."
"Investment?"
Graham's voice is finally softer again. "Aaliyah has the same value for both of us. Appearances. For me, she will be the thing that I conquered, and others will look to me with pride. For you, she would be a means for you to re enter high society."
The fear in Harry's body dulls and now forms into anger.
"You fucking–"
"Come now, Mr. Styles." Graham is laughing. "You canna tell me you've grown to care for the bloody woman. All this piano and music garbage is a façade. You need a wife, and what's better than a pitiful Scotswoman who threw herself at you at a single glance?"
Harry's body twitches and he lunges at Graham, but the redhead is holding his revolver again, and he uses the butt of it to slam Harry's temple. His head now feels wet, and he feels moisture dripping down the side of his face. Vision momentarily blurry, he tries to lung again, but with his arms tied back and a hurt ankle, there's little he can do. Graham swipes at him again.
"My face in society?" he shouts. "Have you no fucking brain at all?"
"Oh I have done my research on you, Mr. Styles. I ken everything about you from your mother's name to your little friends who came with you. If you dinna wish for them to suffer a similar fate that you're getting soon when I send you to hell, I suggest you shut that trap of yours and cope."
Harry's eyes narrow. "And you believe you'll just be able to pull this off? Whatever the hell this is?"
"Aye," Graham says, almost proudly. "Because when I am finished with you, I will ensure Aaliyah marries me through whatever forceful means and I will have support for it. I will. I am correct in every way. Everyone supported me and only me. Do you really think they'd take the side of a careless woman who canna for the life of her stay quiet or still, scatterbrained as she is, too stupid to perform normal womanyl duties? What a disgrace that she's left her family and is journeying with an unmarried man.
"I will be the one to correct her, lt everyone know she was just too excited, too dumb. She was and is confused. She canna make her own choices. If you truly wanted her, you'd be making choices for her every single waking moment. Giving her what to wear, what to eat, how to act in high society. All for your personal gain. She was never a woman to you. She was a ladder. Something for you to step on."
"She is not an object to raise my status," Harry grits, blinking hard. The blood running down the side of his face is itching.
The man still does not look like he believes him. "So what, Mr. Styles? You are telling me you have grown to love her? Is that it? I canna blame you for that either. She seems to be a stubborn woman, but she's easily swayed. Easily seduced. Come, Styles. I see the understanding on your face. She is the perfect wife."
"Once you untie my hands, I will fucking strangle you."
He has the audacity to look alarmed. "Is that so? So it's true. You've grown to love her."
"You don't fucking know me."
"I dinna know you? Mr. Styles, everyone sees your intentions. It is loud and clear. Why are you, as an unmarried male accompanying the daughter of a laird to her sister's event, in a separate country? You may have fooled Aaliyah, but deep down, you and I are not so different."
Harry's seething, twisting his wrists against his binds. "Be a man and do this properly. Untie me and let's stop talking."
His eyebrows raise. "My my, Mr. Styles. You do have some fight in you. I would happily oblige, but we're not here to waste time." He picks up his revolver and sighs deeply. "What shall I say when I'm returning back to the party? That you attacked me? So overwhelmed with jealousy that you used your fists and I had no choice whatsoever but to require self defense in protection? How's that sound? You simply couldna handle the idea of Aaliyah being mine, that you'd kill me for her."
"They'd never believe you," Harry spits.
Graham lands a few closed fists blows to his gut. With the breath knocked out of him, Harry can't even cry out or swear.
"They wouldna?" Graham asks, smiling. "You think because they laugh with you and drink with you that they like you? A stuck up man who forfeited his title to play around with instruments when he could have made a difference? A man who can barely converse, who barely speaks? And you're supposed to be a gentleman, correct? Do you think they see you as a gentleman?" He stands up, brushing dust off his knees, clicking his tongue. "A shame really."
Harry needs to do something fast. If he dies here, Aaliyah will kill him.
"You underestimate her," he says quickly, the panic setting in once more. "She will never live peacefully with you."
Graham shrugs. "Doesna matter. She'll be with me and that's enough."
"You don't want to do this."
"What – scared of a little pain, Mr. Styles? Dinna fash, it'll be over soon. Everyone will say poor Mr. Styles, the man who lost his mind finding out his lover is someone else's and the jealousy simply didna sit right with him. Poor man lost his mind over his love. Isna that romantic?"
"No." Harry looks him in the eye. "It isn't the pain I'm concerned about, but her. She cannot live with you. I won't allow it. Even if she does not end up with me, she cannot be with you."
"How touching." He pauses and then says, "One more to make it real believable." He turns the gun over and Harry feels the pain much later after the blow comes. He groans, falling to his side. Now when the blood pools, he's able to see it, dark and thin on the floors.
"Perfect," Graham says, cocking the gun. He nods at the man at the doorway.
Harry's entire body aches and trembles.
I cannot believe this is how I'm going to die, Harry thinks to himself, exhausted, head resting against the cold floor. Murdered. Someone will have to tell Clara. How will she cope? Who will pay for her school? What will his parents think? Will they regret not speaking to him more following his rejecting his title? And Aaliyah. At least, he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes, it will not be Aaliyah finding him dead.
He takes a painful breath, something pounding in his chest.
Suddenly, he hears a shrill voice outside the large doors. His eyes open, wildly glancing at the entrance where the man is still standing, now looking apprehensively at Graham.
"It's the girl."
Graham's eyebrows raise. Harry can't look up that high so he focuses on Graham's boots instead. "Does she wish to see him die? Or maybe..." Harry hears a smile in his voice. "Send her in." He nudges Harry with his foot. "It's your lucky day, man. Perhaps you willna de after all."
"Are you sure, Graham?" the man asks, worried. "She's pretty pissed off. She might have a weapon."
"Is she alone?"
Harry doesn't know how the man checks who is outside. Maybe through the keyhole. "No. It looks like another woman is with her also."
Harry groans against the floor. She brought Ruhina? Why is Aaliyah always filled with the worst ideas?
"Is it the lady?" Graham demands.
"Aye, looks like her."
"Let them both in. Only them. Make sure they have no weapons."
"Do not," Harry manages, trying to pick himself off the floor. He manages to sit up, but he needs to lean fully on his elbow, "touch her."
He's ignored. Or maybe he doesn't speak loud enough. Whatever it is, nobody replies, but he can hear Aaliyah's pounding.
"No," he tries again. She can't see him like this, bloody and ruined. She'll do something terrible. Like cry. He hates when she cries. It makes him feel helpless.
With his head back against the stone wall, he sees her walk in, still in her reception gown. Even in the darkness, she looks pretty. Ruhina comes in after her, looking very scared. It almost makes him laugh out. This situation is utterly ridiculous.
"Let him go," Aaliyah says, her voice strained. She looks down at him, her eyes flickering away. She can't look at him. "I will...I will stay here with you if you let him go."
Harry wishes he could roll his eyes. That's something she'd definitely say. "Shut up, woman," he manages.
"I mean it, Graham. Let him go and clean up. I'll stay here in Scotland with you. Just, please, let him go. He needs to be helped. He's...bleeding so much."
She still can't look at him for too long.
Graham doesn't say anything though. He just continues to look at Aaliyah, in a way that Harry really doesn't like. He takes a step forward, while Aaliyah takes one back.
"I mean it," she says. "Let him go this instant and you have my word. My promise that I will be your wife as you've always wanted. Just let him leave."
"I havena seen you in so long," Graham interrupts her finally. "It's been months."
She ignores him. "Listen to me."
"You lied about me to them. You didna tell them you were mine the moment we met."
"I never agreed to that," she hisses, taking a step forward, her eyes narrowed. "I never agreed to that, and my family never did either." She points a finger accusingly at him. "It was your family, and you should have gotten the hint." Harry thinks she swears at him in Gaelic, but he's not too sure. He's getting a bit lightheaded.
"You never said no," Graham insists, an edge to his voice. He's still holding the weapon. "You only ran away."
Aaliyah raises her chin higher. "I ken you brought him here because this is where you brought me. Do you remember? You said you ken a place and you wanted to speak to me in private. We were in Edinburgh and we couldna be alone, so you brought me here. I thought you were going to confess or propose and I'd very privately say no."
Harry can tell it pains her to recall this.
"But no," she continues. "You held onto me. Just being in this room sickens me. It sickened me that everyone was above us and I couldna yell to them. You," she's still thrusting her fingers against his chest, "think it's a game and that's why you brought Harry here as well. You wanted me to see this."
"Well, I wanted you to see him dead, not alive," Graham says, bored. "Luckily for you, my dear, and for the lady, you willna have to see much gore."
"You will leave him alone once he leaves Scotland. You will not harass him. And if you agree to those conditions, I will stay with you."
Ruhina looks terrified now, her hands shaking. Harry finally notices the man at the door pinning her against the wall with one arm. "Aaliyah? Maybe we should wait–"
"No."
"Stop," Harry murmurs. "Stop it. Don't be stupid."
Aaliyah barely glances at him. "This is the right decision." She's saying it half to herself.
"I agree," Graham announces, smiling broadly. "We will be wed as soon as possible once Mr. Styles leaves Scotland. He's extended his visit for too long now." He holds his hand out for Aaliyah, but when she doesn't give him her hand, he reaches over and grabs her wrist. She winces.
"Aaliyah," he tries again weakly. "Don't do this. I can't let you do this!"
"It's for the best. At least this way I'll be closer to home also." Typical of Aaliyah to be making light of serious situations.
"I think we really should wait for–" Ruhina tries again.
Harry's vision is slightly blurry from all the blows. He sees Aaliyah's dress– no, the back of it! She's walking away from him! He holds a hand out, mouthing her name. No. No, come back.
There must be another way. He'd just seen the smile on her face be genuine, the laughter in her voice when she'd talk about her family. About him. He'd just learned all about her. He'd just fallen in love with her. How could she be so cruel to him?
Aaliyah, he's shouting in his head now. Turn around. Don't do this. Don't do this to me.
Harry about to collapse on the floor when another sound rings out through the stone walls. It's not a voice this time, but the firing of a weapon. His head snaps up to see the damage, eyes landing on Aaliyah first. She looks absolutely stunned, her eyes wide with fear. Then he looks down at himself.
Finally at the door, he sees a tall figure. One he's grown very familiar with. Alistair stands there, angry and large, his gun smoking at the end. Harry hears a thud before his own vision starts to swim again and he falls cold against the floor, unconsciousness.