Secret Santa -- Our Son Fergus
Hello there, @bonnie-wee-swordsman! I’m your secret santa!!! Woo hoo!! I’m not gonna lie, writing this for you has been a bit terrifying. You’re up there with my other celeb fanfic crushes so I was really intimidated to do this. But I did it anyway and I think it’s good. I flipped back and forth on ideas for weeks trying to pick what to do, but this one jumped out at me. I hope you like it. This really has been a treat.
He should have known better. They’d told him to stay back, stay with the women, stay safe. But he must go with his master, must watch his back. Milady would be devastated if something happened to him. And who better to watch his back but a small, silent shadow? None could fit that task more perfectly.
As they’d begun to trail through the fog and mist, his heart began to pound. It was similar to the feeling he got when he picked pockets, but worse. There was a sense of urgency and fear in this, and other things he didn’t understand. He’d gotten shuffled back and could no longer see Milord.
Fergus clutched his little knife, wide eyes taking in everything around him. Men were running now, entering the British camp like a snake in the grass. Running, screaming, bleeding. Flashes of musket fire. The glint off swords and dirks.
A man fell before him, wounded but not dead. Acting on instinct, Fergus dropped and drove his knife into the man’s chest. Hot, thick blood welled up at the site of the wound and began seeping everywhere. Fergus leapt back as if it were poison and touching it would mean certain death. The Redcoat’s eyes were wide with shock and pain, though they were now lifeless.
Backing away from the carnage and disaster, he left his knife as it was. Someone else could pick it up and use it. Fergus had no desire to touch it again, sure that it would burn him.
The march back to camp wasn’t as quiet as the march out and most of the men were overjoyed at the victory. Fergus could not share in their celebrating, not after what he’d done.
Looking up dazedly, he watched his master run over to him.
“Fergus! What the hell are ye doing out here?!”
“I-I came to fight, Milord. I could not let you go out without someone to watch your back.”
Murtagh humphed but Fergus ignored him.
“Did ye no’ tell Milady? She’ll be worriet sick.”
“She would not have let me come.”
“Aye, and she was right. This is no place for a boy your age. No matter, now.”
They were nearly back. Milord cast an anxious gaze over to him before marching off to check the rest of his men.
When they arrived in camp, Milord ran inside where Milady was supposed to be. He seemed to have been gone for a long time. All Fergus wanted right now was to curl up on a pallet somewhere and sleep.
“Fergus!”
The sound of her frantic steps could not draw him from his exhaustion, however. They spoke for a few moments, but the words did not matter.
They were filled with worry and fear and anger and joy. They were a mother’s eyes. This woman had become his mother since they’d met in Paris. That fact was only evidenced further by her concern now.
“Hush now,” she said softly, fingers combing his curls slowly. “Let’s just get you fed and a place to rest, alright?”
She wandered around for a while before finding a decent bench. With a gentle push, she had him sat down with a plate in his hands before he could object.
“You scared me half to death today, Fergus,” she said in a gentle, but clearly irritated, tone.
He looked up to see her blue eyes filling with tears.
“I can’t lose you too,” she whispered, her right hand moving over her womb.
Yes, it had been a mistake to go out with the men. He should have had a thought for her and the worry she would carry. He’d been there for her after she’d lost the baby and he should have thought through it better.
“You will not lose me, Milady. I promise. I will stay and tend the fires.”
She smiled down warmly at him.
Hastily wiping the tears from her face, she turned and left him on the bench. He laid himself down, careful to keep his eye on her. Milord had said that he trusted no other with the task of keeping Milady safe. Fergus resigned himself to watch her as long as he was able.
