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They returned to Rurach with the pomp and ceremony due the Righ of Eileanan. Finn was greeted by both her parents, Anghus beaming proudly and Gwyneth wearing a sedate smile. But Finn could see that her mother's eyes were brimming with gladness and pride, and grinned encouragingly in response. Lachlan's proposal for Finn to continue her travels, with the possibility of studying to become a witch, was met by a moment of stunned silence.
Unexpectedly it was Brangaine who stood up for her cousin. They had all heard from the jongleurs of Finn's role in their exploits, but the NicSian's quiet diplomacy and practical bent gave the tale substance and drew reluctant nods from several members of the court. Finn smiled gratefully at her, pleased, and Brangaine nodded her acknowledgement.
Finn tried not to fidget, and failed, while her parents looked at her thoughtfully.
Gwyneth suddenly gave a sad smile. "Are ye sure ye want this, Finn?"
"Never wanted anything more, mam." Finn turned to her father, earnest entreaty in her face. "Dai-dein, please? The Righ says I could, and I'd work hard at it. I be no good at sewing seams and embroidering dresses, ye ken that, and I'd rather scale a cliff than talk to crofters and the like."
The MacRuriach frowned.
Gwyneth placed a gentle hand on his arm, her own brow furrowed. "Well, happen we'd best let her make her own choice. The life o' a sorceress would suit Finn, no doubt o' that. As much as I'd like to teach her the ways o' the court, I haven't been succeeding very well."
Anghus looked at her in surprise. He nodded slowly. "But it be a grave policy. Ye are a banprionnsa, dearling, and we will need to take time for council and arrangements. Do ye think ye can be patient?"
Finn, ready to protest, blinked rapidly, this time to stop the onrush of tears that threatened. She could not believe she would be allowed to do everything she had dreamt of. She wanted to clap in glee. Instead she settled for a smile and bobbed her head, her voice husky. "Aye, I will."
"Will try, ye mean," Lachlan interjected, causing amused murmurs to ripple over the audience.
Finn automatically looked at Brangaine and was rewarded with a smirk. She found herself colouring up more than she already had, and could not help noticing the leafy beauty of the other girl's eyes. The previous mockery in them had miraculously transformed into a fond affection. Finn found herself enjoying the teasing Brangaine tossed her way, and parried with her constantly, crossing words like they had crossed swords in their practice sessions.
Then Jay came forward, looking overjoyed. Finn flew into his arms, and did not notice when Brangaine's face fell and the light left her gaze, to be replaced by an expression of the utmost serenity.
Finn lost sight of Brangaine in the flurry of preparations that followed the announcement of the banprionnsa's imminent departure. It was increasingly hard to find her cousin around the castle, even when Finn sought her out on purpose. On the occasions they met, which was mostly during meals, Brangaine surprised her by being her old self, answering coldly to Finn's remarks and replying with cutting irony when Finn deliberately made a provocative statement. Finn could only gape at her retreating back, clad in the bright colors of the Siantan plaid.
Finn herself did not have much time to worry about her cousin's strange behaviour. She spent most of her remaining hours roaming the countryside with her father, riding and hunting. Gwyneth, too, could scarcely bear to have Finn leave her side, and Finn almost felt sorry for having to go away.
But it was her life, she repeated in Jay's hearing. "It's not as if I'm no' coming back," she added scornfully.
On the day before Finn was due to resume her travels, she stole away from Raina's ministrations and wandered the halls of Rurach, peeking into the crannies she used to haunt and watching the servants at work. She discovered Brangaine in a deserted chamber, corn-silk head bent over some kind of garment.
Finn darted in, grinning. "Och, Bran, so this is where ye got to! And I thought I was the only one who skulked in corners."
Brangaine visibly started but did not turn around to greet Finn. "Ye ought to mind yourself better, Fionnghal," she said.
It was Finn's turn to be surprised. "Wha' is the matter wi' ye?" she asked, concerned. "Ye've been a right lamb-brained prig like ye were afore, syne we came back. I would think ye hated me from the way ye have been behaving."
Brangaine shrugged over her stitches. "I be no' the one leaving Rurach and my duties to my folks."
Finn's mouth dropped. "Weren't ye the one who spoke for me? Didn't ye think I should do my own thing, and be happy? I thought ye approved." She wondered if the world had split and thrown her down into a dark pit. Brangaine was making no sense at all.
"Ye be the firstborn. As the banprionnsa o' Siantan, I canna approve in good conscience." As Finn stared at her, she added, "I was wrong to have helped ye. I should have kent better."
Finn stormed around so Brangaine was facing her. Brangaine did not look up. "Nay, I was wrong to call ye friend and cousin, Brangaine NicSian, knowing how I have suffered under ye. Ye with your mocking ways and girly fits can go drown in the sea for all I care!"
Brangaine's hands gripped the cloth tightly. Finn could see that her fingers were trembling, but she refused to glance down again, keeping her eyes resolutely fixed on a spot to Brangaine's left.
"Ye were the jealous one, Finn," Brangaine said bitterly. "Ye ken ye will no' ever be a true banprionnsa. Ye are too much a lad to be a lady."
Finn raised her fist, her mind clouding in a fog of anger. An odd pressure clogged her lungs. "Well, I will no' be a lady! Sorceress is a far better title, ye ken that!"
"Wha' about your people? Your family?"
"Ye do no' care!" Brangaine stood. Her lips were white. She was silent. Finn was shaking, her hands clenched in front of her. "Ye do no' care," she said again through gritted teeth.
Brangaine's eyes flashed. Something came flying towards Finn. She was too shocked to duck, and Brangaine's fist connected squarely with her nose. Finn instinctively sprang onto the other girl, hands going to her throat. Brangaine fell under Finn's weight. She gazed up at Finn, her eyes wide, her face pale. Fear was written all over her face.
Finn was breathing hard, stunned at what had just transpired. She unwrapped her hold upon Brangaine's throat and felt the older girl pant with sheer relief. "I dinna mean," she began, then stopped short. Tears were gleaming on Brangaine's cheeks. "I be sorry," she finished in a strangled voice. "I really am." Distraught, furious, yet somehow sad, Finn embraced her impulsively, willing the true extent of her sadness to pass to Brangaine so she could know how Finn was sorry indeed to leave her new home.
Finn felt a gentle kiss placed upon her brow.
"I be sorry, Finn," Brangaine's voice said. She put her lips to Finn's, and Finn caressed them with her own, aware of nothing but how soft and beautiful Brangaine was. The energy and passion of their antagonism flared in the kiss, and their embrace deepened, their mouths pressed close.
When they parted, Finn rolled over onto the floor, a dreamy smile on her face. "If I were a lad, I would no' let ye go so easily, after that," she said casually.
"But ye are a lassie, and I be the NicSian." Brangaine swept to her feet and held a hand out for Finn to grasp. "Goodbye, Finn."
Finn frowned at her, puzzled. Standing, she grinned at her cousin. "Goodbye, Bran."
They drove off the very next day. Jay had some difficulty in dismissing the sense of nagging unease he felt when Brangaine finally kissed Finn goodbye.