Date: Thu, 7 Apr 1994 12:58:00 CDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Heather Hirshorn Subject: For the Love of Devon (Pt.1) Here's my first contribution to HLFIC, so please be gentle with me! I have altered some immortality rules to suit my story. ****************** For the Love of Devon Part 1 ******************** Connor MacLeod sat among the sea of proud parents and anxious friends at the graduation ceremony. He narrowed his eyes, trying to pick her out among the seething mass of students below. He was almost ill with the sensation of a close immortal and he did not have to guess at who it was. He saw her then, a petite figure made even smaller by the large black gown she wore. He could barely make out her profile, but it didn't really matter. He knew her face as well as his own. It was the first time Connor had been back to Glennfinnan in eighteen years. He had left Heather out of necessity, he hadn't even told her where he was going. This was something he had to do alone. The funeral procession was remarkably moving. The wail of bagpipes eloquently mourned the passing of the brave warrior, Angus MacLeod. Only the death of his beloved kinsman could bring Connor home. The overwhelming grief at the loss was replaced by a burning rage that he could not be a part of the ceremony as was his right. The ignorance and cruelty that had robbed him of his home had stolen yet another priviledge . . . Connor fought to control the rising tide of emotion lest he give away his hiding place. He took in deep breaths and focused his mind on memories of Angus' face. When he felt calm enough, he allowed his eyes to wander ove the line of clansmen filing over the bridge. Kinsmen, all of them, several known to him, many new faces. His hazel eyes fell at last on a black cloaked figure towards theback. She was bent over slightly, supported by a slightly taller figure, also shrouded in black. The stooped one was Kate, his first wife. Connor no longer hated her for the lead role she had played in his banishment. Indeed, she had wanted him burned for a witch, and only Angus' intervention had saved him. But he knew now that she had truly thought him dead and his body posessed by the devil. Kate turned slightly and Connor saw part of her face. The years had not been kind to her. In the Highlands, they rarely were. Her red hair was streaked with grey and the skin around her eyes was heavily lined. He couldn't help but compare her with his lovely Heather, who was almost the same age and not nearly as worn down. His attention was distracted by the person at her side. It was a girl, probably Kate and Angus' daughter. Shortly after Connor had left, Kate and Angus had wed. It was expected that if a warrior died in battle, a kinsman would take care of the widow. Often such arrangements ended in marriage. The girl was only about a hand taller than her mother. It was hard to tell anything abot her figure under her heavy skirts although he could see that she was broad shouldered. Her reddish brown hair fell to her waist in loose curls. Suddenly she doubled over in pain. Connor felt an urge to rush to her aid, but resisted. His brows kitted when he realized there was a familiar buzzing sensation in his skull. It was more powerful now than when he had met Ramirez and the Kurgan; there must be an extremely strong immortal here. Then, amazed, he connected it with the girl's pain. Ah God, another one to plague Kate and the villagers of Glenfinnan. He smiled at the irony. Soon, the girl straightened and appeared to gather herself, although now her mother supported her. They made their way haltingly to Angus' final resting place. The girl turned to look at the castle once more, and Connor recoiled as if he had been struck in the gut. Her face was a feminine version of his own. End of Part 1 Heather comments may be addressed to me at heatherh@admin.stedwards.edu =========================================================================