Strange Face of Love

Glimpses from the Wedding Reception of Antonia and Julian, part II

Morgan discovered the band was going to have to continue without him a bit longer, when Maria, looking rather ravishing in deep red-violet, and certainly like no-one's mother, was suddenly taking his arm and smoothly leading him out of sight of prying eyes, and fully aware that it would set tongues a-wagging. But Maria loved that sort of thing.

Morgan was left feeling like a raw nerve. He had gone to the Wedding with Beatrice, and played there as well, but was largely able to observe the ceremony. It had started then, and it had been creeping up on him all day: memories, thoughts, the paths and tributaries of an overactive mind. That dance with Antonia had brought it all crashing down on him, and it seemed that a few... the Twins, and Maria at least, knew that it would. He had not been able to tell Beatrice much about the war; he had enjoyed her company and companionship for awhile now, but he could not bring himself to express the enormity of it all... Morgan was not sure she would understand, nor did he want to give her the nightmares she'd already seen him wake up from. And how does one tell their new girlfriend, about a -- a 'Gina?

He hugged Maria tightly, somewhere near the coatroom, and quietly suffered the indignity of the woman cleaning him up. Morgan looked for Beatrice; he needed to talk to her.

Beatrice was right where Morgan was beginning to expect her when she was left on her own and Aunts and Uncles were involved: at the edge of things, away from the family but where she could watch them like she was at a play. Though sometimes the expression she wore was more like the passengers in a Land Rover on safari, with a pride of lions circling the vehicle restlessly.

Just now, however, she was studying her drink with more intensity than it deserved. Morgan took getting used to, she'd discovered; there were the Twins, and Maria, who she'd just met... and there were others as well. It didn't bother her as much as she had thought it might; she'd never expected to fall in love, really, so what did it matter if she had to share him with - well, half of Amber and Shadow, if she had to guess.

No, it was what she'd just seen - at a wedding - that had her looking for wisdom at the bottom of a glass she'd barely touched yet. That was not just friends, and it wasn't Morgan's usual mode of operation either. She blew out a sigh, thoughts rattling around in her head without quite settling, and looked up for a sight of the bride's dark shadow, who just happened to be Beatrice's boyfriend.

Morgan walked up to Beatrice silently, slipping up beside her in that quiet way of his that almost had to be a holdover from his time in Arden. There were times when Morgan somehow diminished his presence, and other times when he was so very there. He found her hand, and held it in his, his fingers twining with hers. He took a breath, looked at Beatrice for a long moment, before he spoke.

"We need to talk, Sweetheart..." He smiled softly, and gestured at the room the band was using for breaks or changes. One got fairly sweaty when performing, and 'costume' changes were as practical as they were entertaining.

Beatrice was looking across the room for him, and so it was the touch of his fingers that caught her attention. She looked back and up at him quickly, setting her earrings dancing, and met his eyes. He could see the thoughtfulness and confusion at war with her quiet pleasure at his nearness in her eyes.

"Of course..." she answered, and she rose and followed him into the room.

Morgan nodded to G, who was leaving the room as they were headed towards it. He guided Beatrice in by the hand, and sat with her on the couch in the room, opposite the vanities. Morgan took a deep breath, and silently drew Beatrice into a hug. He gave her a light kiss, and reached into a cooler by the couch for a Guinness. He opened it, and took a long pull, before he looked at Beatrice again. Morgan looked a bit at a loss, a combination of sadness, a little concern for her, and more than a little confusion.

"Ah, I know you well enough that you've concerns... or at least questions." Morgan looked at his right hand, his sword hand. "I will try to answer them..."

Beatrice looked back, her arm around him still. "Questions, I think..." She paused to take a delicate sip of her drink, and Morgan could see her assembling the sentences behind her eyes. "What was that, with Antonia? I know what it looks like when you dance with a friend, and I know what it's like when you dance with a lover, and with a stranger... and it wasn't any of those."

Morgan met her eyes for a moment, and then looked at his beer again. His green eyes went distant. "It is... difficult to explain, Beatrice. I... we..." He paused, and considered his answer for a moment. "It is more than the war... more than friendship... There was a moment in the midst of all the blood and pain." Morgan sighed; that moment was gone, the possibilities of it having been pruned away from actualization by the arrival of Julian. He raked his fingers through his hair, "Bea, we were never really able to define it ourselves... It is... too big... in a way..."

"Do you love her?" Beatrice asked, and despite the quiet way she said it, Morgan could feel the tension in her. "The way you react to her - it's not the way I've seen you react to anyone else." She looked down at her drink. "Not even me. So I have to ask."

Morgan replied without hesitation, "Yes, of course I do." He shook his head, "But it’s not quite what you think." Morgan's lips pressed together, "It's all tied up in war and pain and grief and loss." His lower lip trembled, the memories were too fresh, and the wounds had been poked at only recently... by that last dance, and by the train of his own thoughts. "And more... she was the first to reach out a hand when I came to Amber... She has been cousin, Sister, friend... but those are not enough, there is just too much..." He looked and sounded frustrated, along with verging on upset. "I haven't taken the time to sort this all out, Bea... and I think I need to..."

Beatrice looked up at him, hearing the tone of his voice. He could see her own anxiety, but just as clearly, she wanted to help him. She hung there for a moment, torn, and then quietly hugged him. "Morgan..." It was half a whisper. "You do what you must... " She leaned her head against his shoulder, her face turned against his neck so he couldn't see her expression anymore. "But - I have loved you since the first time I met you, and while I don't mind the sharing... I don't know if I can stand being forever second to a married woman..."

Morgan embraced her in return, burying his face in the crook of her neck, knowing they were hiding their eyes from each other. The both of them were, at times, too perceptive for their own good. He kissed her neck softly, and shook his head, "You're not second, Beatrice... It is not like that... It is not pining..." Morgan took a breath past the lump in his throat, "Oh, Bea, she is a big part of my life... but she's not my girlfriend or my Wife or my Lover, she has not been any of those things either, nor will she be." He paused, and leaned back to meet her eyes, lifting her chin, his own emerald gaze gone a bit bright and watery. "Please, understand, she has been at my back for what seemed like a long stretch of forever... when I turned to protect my flank she was already doing it... when she reached for a hand up, mine was there..." His nostrils flared, in an effort not to cry again. "I've been avoiding the War since my part ended, I need to deal with it... and see who I am now that it is done."

Beatrice's eyes were anxious still when she met his. She started to speak - got so far as to open her mouth - and stopped, looking at him. Finally, she sighed and leaned her forehead against his, her eyes closed. "It's not something I can understand, is it? Not unless I find someone... like that..."

Morgan's answering sigh was ragged, "I honestly cannot say, Bea... I cannot explain it, if 'Gina -- Antonia were here right now, I doubt that she could." He paused, "On the one hand, Sweetheart, I hope you never ever have to have a friend at your side to share the burdens we shared, on the other... you would be fortunate to have something like that." He lifted one of her hands to his lips, and then pressed both of her hands together. "See? This was 'Gina and I during the way... It had to be... Sometimes in battle, it was as if she exhaled and I inhaled. The Enemy feared us, and tried to get around us often..." He pulled her hands apart, perhaps an inch or so only. "And now this is us... It may not seem like much, but there is a world in that gap..." Morgan sniffled, "The War is over, but my mind still works on it, still thinks of it as active... I mean, Great Goddess, I had to put aside my sword before I killed a page... and you remember what it was like that first day at Summerisle..." He met her eyes, "I need to get out of Amber for a bit, and get my head on straight..."

Beatrice smiled a little sadly. "No two burdens are ever the same, Morgan." She watched their hands together as he moved them, and then his face again when they stilled. "The war is over," she answered him softly, lifting her hands - and his with them - to lie along his cheeks. "And yes, I remember that day we visited Summerisle..." She leaned her forehead against his once more, but her eyes were open and locked on his. "Ah, Morgan, Morgan... go réidh..." She had only spoken Gaelic to him once or twice before, and never with the deeply affectionate tone she used now. "Do you think I'll try and stop you? The good Lord knows you've been patient and more with me as I try to straighten myself out - why should I object? I wish I could help... but if you need to go, you need to go."

Morgan kissed her then, impulsively, heatedly, just to feel something other than frustration, angst, and pain. He broke, to return to their former position, his forehead gently against hers. "Stay at Summerisle... Galt needs someone to look out for." He managed a small smile, "I do not know where I will go, but it will be fast time, and I will come back here... you've just taken the Pattern; I think Fiona will want you to spread your wings a bit." Morgan sighed, "Call me if you've need..." He moved his hand from her hand on his face, to hers. "I will come back... I do not know where I will go, but I will come back. Fiach will keep me out of trouble." Morgan paused, "There is just too much here... for me to stay..." He kissed her lips again, "After the reception, Beatrice... We will go to Summerisle... I will leave from there."

"Shh," Beatrice said softly, laying a thumb across his lips after the second kiss. "You will go, and I will stay." She smiled faintly. "I'll stay at Summerisle, and give Galt someone to clean up after. And if you haven't figured out by now that I know I can call you when I need to..." She slipped her thumb out of the way to kiss him gently. "You can call me when you're ready to come home, you know. Fiona has already been suggesting that I go out and explore... but I'll wait for you to come back." She smiled a little again. "There - see? I will even brave an Aunt's disapproval for you; that should count as spreading my wings."

Morgan smiled, and hugged her. "That's not what I meant, but it is a kind of bravery..." He smiled and nuzzled her gently, as he held her. "Do not use me as an excuse not to Walk in Shadow..." Morgan kissed her again, brushing hair from her eyes. "I will call you to come home..." He sighed, and pulled her into his arms, to settle in there on the couch. Morgan held her quietly for a long moment, until he heard something change in the music. "Time for us to go back out there, Bea..."

Beatrice smiled at him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm not using you as an excuse... I just got back from a trip, remember? But I want to wait, because I think you might want to talk when you get home. Aunt Fiona will simply have to be patient." She hugged him tightly. "Time for you to go back to work," she corrected gently. "Go on, bright one. I am going to steal a Guinness and drink it here where it's quiet; I'll be back out soon."