Forging the Blade, Part II: Kithe and Kin by MacGeorge Rating: PG-13 ~~~~~~~ Someone jostled him, and he made a small attempt at responding, but daylight leaked painfully into his eyes, and he squeezed them closed, only to be jostled again. "Signore," a familiar voice spoke close to his ear, reverberating around and sending spears of agony into his brain. "Signore, you must come home now." Someone moved his arm and tried to pull him up. "Leave me alone!" Connor growled, intending to push the intruder away, but his arms and legs were unresponsive to his commands. "Now, now, Signore. Come along, you can do it." Connor squinted up into Giuseppe's concerned eyes. "He did it, Giuseppe," Connor sighed sadly, and his valet blinked and coughed, probably from the fumes being breathed into his face. "I thought I could protect him from it, but I can't, can I?" Connor mumbled as Giuseppe somehow managed to pull him to his feet and chivvy him towards the door. "None of us can truly protect the ones we love," Giuseppe advised. Connor would have replied, but it took all of his concentration to stay upright as they wove through the streets past the early vendors just beginning to set up their wagons and wares. "You did everything you could, Signore. The rest was always up to him." By the time they had reached Connor's home, the walk and the air had helped clear the worst of the effects of his drunken binge, and he was shuffling along on his own, but almost keeled over when Duncan's presence struck him, stronger, more caustic than before because of the recently taken Quickening. A surge of guilt washed over him. A true friend would have stayed, helped his student understand the Quickening. But no, Duncan couldn't be his student any more. That's why Ramirez had always said taking students was, more often than not, only a heartache. Because once they took their first Quickening, they were in the Game forever - until they died or took the Prize. And nine of out ten students learned only the one, important, unalterable fact of an Immortal's life: There Can Be Only One. Connor could hear the words ring in his head, and the voice he heard was Duncan's. He pushed into the front hall, and froze. Duncan was waiting, watching him warily. Connor brushed past him, and headed up the stairs. "Connor...," Duncan began, but Connor didn't want to hear apologies or explanations, or how sorry Duncan was, or how they could still be friends. "No," Connor raised his hand to stop whatever Duncan was going to say. "I'll write letters of reference as a bodyguard, and I think you've got a little money from your work with Munter's horses. That should be enough to tide you over until you find a position." Duncan's already pale face went gray, and his lips pressed together before he nodded his head with a jerk. "If that's what you want," he said hoarsely. Connor turned away and went on upstairs to his study, where he sat and stared out the window the rest of the day. Sometime during the night, he forced himself to write letters extolling Duncan's virtues as a swordsman and as a man. He had to stop several times when his throat closed, his eyes watered and the page blurred too much to continue. Giuseppe hovered nearby, bringing food, which Connor couldn't bring himself to touch; and drink, which he probably touched too much. Somehow, dawn worked its way over the landscape, he heard a gentle tap on the door, and knew who it was. "Enter," he called, pulling his coat on and running his fingers through his hair to reestablish some small sense of decorum. Duncan stood at the door, wearing his traveling clothes, his claymore strapped to his side. "I've come to say goodbye, Connor," he said softly. He looked sad and tired, as though he, too, hadn't slept for almost two days. Connor cleared his throat, and reached for the letters on his desk. "Here," he said, thrusting them towards Duncan. "There are possible opportunities in Florence, Genoa and Rome. The letters should serve you well." He turned away and poured himself a goblet of wine. "Thank you," Duncan whispered. "I wish...," "We could wish a lot of things," Connor interrupted. "But this is who we are, what we do. You are no longer the student. I am no longer the teacher. There is only the Game." "No, that's not all there is!" Duncan insisted, and Connor turned to chastise the stubborn fool. "Yes! That is all there is," Connor hissed. "You fought. You killed. It didn't matter whether the man had killed Munter. You would have killed him anyway because That Is What We Do! You've tasted it now. The power, the energy slamming into your body like the greatest orgasm you ever felt. The craving for it can become the driving force of an Immortal's life, and that, Duncan, is why There Can Be. Only. One." Connor turned away, heartsick at the look of hurt on Duncan's face. "Now go." "All right," Duncan sighed. Connor heard retreating footsteps, and he pushed his desk chair back with his foot and collapsed into it. Then the footsteps returned, hard and sharp on the tiles. "No, it's not all right," Duncan slammed back into the room. "You think that somehow I've changed because I took a head. Well, in at least one way, you're right. It made me sick and disgusted. I don't know whether Dunningham took Wilhelm's head, but whether he did or not, all I was out for was a fight." Duncan swallowed and looked at the floor, his face haggard and sad. "I made a mistake, Connor. But I'm the same person you taught, the same person who shared more of my life and myself with you than anyone I've ever known. The same person you said you trusted, and to whom I gave my trust." "Duncan," Connor sighed, "I'm sorry, but once you're in the Game, once you've taken a Quickening, everything changes." "The person I am, the person you taught, didn't change!" Duncan insisted. "But you have always said that taking a Quickening under the wrong circumstances can be horrible, that someone who does that isn't worthy of your trust or your love. Well, I took a Quickening before we even met! Does that mean everything we have shared is a lie?" Connor rose, staring at Duncan in shock. The lad's eyes were glittering with tears. "What did you say?" "I told you about the hermit," Duncan turned away, his voice low and subdued. "The hermit? You mean the one who predicted that we would meet?" "Yes," Duncan whispered. "I didn't know it at the time, but he...he was an Immortal. I didn't know that Immortals even existed. He said...," Duncan shuddered, reaching for the wall to steady himself. "He said he had been waiting for me for 600 years, and that I had to taste the truth of what I was. Then he came at me with a sword. I thought he was crazy! I was only trying to defend myself and get away when he...he grabbed my blade and...." Duncan choked. "He, uh,..." Duncan was breathing shallowly and his face had gone gray. Connor grabbed Duncan's arm and dragged him to the settee. "He what," Connor demanded. "He beheaded himself on my blade," Duncan said in a strained whisper. "I...I don't really remember much of anything after that. Some villagers found me days later and took me to the priest at Strathconnon." "My God," Connor whispered, finally laying a hand on Duncan's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, although he suspected he knew the answer, and his lips thinned at his own blind insensitivity. "You...you said that when an Immortal takes his first Quickening, it brands him for life, and without understanding it, without a teacher there to explain it, the Immortal becomes someone not to be trusted." Duncan lifted his head. Tears had tracked down his cheeks. "I was afraid you would abandon me. And I was right, wasn't I?" "Oh, Duncan," Connor sighed. "What an awful thing to live with all this time. I'm so sorry." Finally, Duncan took a deep breath and pulled away, wiping his face and straining to smile. "However you feel about me now, Connor MacLeod," he said. "You are still my friend. I once told you that I would never raise a blade against you in earnest, and that has not changed, the Game be damned." Connor took a long breath, the painful band that had constricted his chest loosening a little for the first time in two days. "Duncan," he smiled tentatively, "we need to talk. Stay." When Duncan shook his head, he added quickly, "Not as a student. As a friend." Duncan's tense face relaxed into a gentle, genuine smile. "I think," Duncan said, blinking rapidly, then clearing his throat before going on. "I think you were right, Connor." He stood. "It is time for me to go, but not in anger, or mistrust." He held out his hand. "Be well, Connor MacLeod," he said, his voice rough with emotion. His throat was far too tight for Connor to be able to say a word. He stood and clasped his friend's forearm and pulled him in, relishing the warmth and solidity of that strong body. The student wasn't the only one with much to learn, Connor realized. If Duncan could deal with all that had happened and still be the man Connor had come to know and love over the past five years, maybe - just maybe - he would be strong enough to survive, to grow, to continue to learn, to be a friend - a brother - for the long centuries to come. Duncan was right. The Game be damned. "Graham Ashe," he finally managed to say, and Duncan pushed away a little, looking confused. "Graham Ashe?" "One of the best swordsmen in the world, an Immortal, and a good man, so I hear," Connor explained. "The last I heard, he was in Florence. He could teach you, if you've not given up on teachers entirely." Duncan laughed, the sound ringing off the hard, whitewashed walls. "Oh, I think I still have a thing or two to learn," he quipped. He turned and Connor followed him out to the hall and down the stairs, where Giuseppe was waiting outside, flirting outrageously with the young lad who was holding the big black stallion that had once belonged to the late Baron Wilhelm Munter. Duncan stood for a moment, squinting against the bright morning sunshine. "I guess this is goodbye, then," he said. "Not goodbye," Connor corrected, resting a hand on Duncan's shoulder. "We will see each other again. After all," he leaned close to whisper. "We're Immortal." Giuseppe stood with Connor and watched Duncan ride away with a clatter of hooves on cobblestones. "Is everything all right, Signore?" he asked, looking up at him in concern. "Are you and Signore Duncan still friends?" Connor swallowed past the tightness in his throat. "Always, Giuseppe," he assured him softly. "Always." With a deep breath, he turned and went inside, his mind already on re-writing his letter to Seamus O'Brien. It would seem the <Brigitte> was about to get a new captain. ~~The End of the Beginning~~