Rory’s stomach flipped upon seeing their audience. Nearly half the kingdom must have crammed itself into that space.
At the chamber’s centre, King Aonghas and Fionn’s brothers also waited. Fionn and Rory took their places while Neacel and Acha left them to join the watching assembly.
The Blue King raised his arms. ‘Brothers, kith and kin. We meet here tonight under a bright moon to affirm a soul bond between two souls who have already touched.’ He lay his hands on Fionn and Rory at the shoulder. ‘Normally we would celebrate the joining of those souls in this ceremony, but today we are blessed to celebrate these souls that are already joined. My son, First Prince Fionn of the Minch, and Rory Douglas of Ullapool.’
An answering hum came from the crowd, shivering through the water and over Rory’s body. A hum of assent and reverence.
The king lifted Rory’s left palm so that it was facing up. ‘Today we give you your first mark as a Minchman, Rory Douglas. Wear it proudly.’
Rory stared at a spot over the king’s shoulder.Be stoic, be stoic.
The king produced an inked needle and proceeded to etch a small tattoo in the palm of Rory’s hand.
Rory exhaled slowly. It wasn’t as painful as he’d thought—not that pain was something that had concerned him about the ceremony. The number of eyes watching him get tattooed was pretty disconcerting though.
When it was finished, the Blue King turned to tattoo his son’s palm. ‘Prince Fionn, today we give you this mark of your soul bond. Wear it proudly.’
Rory studied the dark blue tattoo inside his hand. It looked like twoSshapes laid over one another. An entwining of souls. A physical mark of his inner truth. Of his love for Fionn. Of their future together.
As Fionn’s tattoo was completed, the king directed them to face each other and clasp one newly tattooed hand to the other. Rory stared into Fionn’s eyes and knew the dopey, devoted expression there was almost certainly reflected on his own face. King Aonghas’ voice faded from his conscious mind as Rory’s whole world was filled up by the current running through him and into Fionn and back again
Here’s the horizon,he thought, caught in Fionn’s adoring grey gaze.I’m well over it already, and I’m never going back.
He leaned up and planted a deep, loving kiss on Fionn’s mouth.
The current swirled between them, warm and unwavering, as it would for the rest of their lives.
Epilogue
Graham finished mooring his fishing boat and bid his small crew of passengers a good afternoon touring the streets of Ullapool. Tourist season was in full swing and business was booming on all fronts.
Far out to sea his catamaran, theWayward Sun,was making its way into the Minch with a full complement of bums-on-seats to view the Summer Isles and maybe a bit of wildlife if the weather held.
He sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and patted his stomach, thinking vaguely about lunch before taking on his next fishing party.
Something sleek and silvery flashed in the water beyond the jetty.
Graham squinted against the sun’s reflection on the waves. Surely it wasn’t a—
‘Oh, hello beautiful,’ he said as the seal surfaced again. ‘Brazen, aren’t ye?’
It was uncommon to see a seal inside the harbour. Even less so to see one clutching a jam jar in its jaws.
The seal bobbed closer and deposited her cargo at Graham’s feet.
Not one to be phased by the peculiarities of ocean creatures, Graham picked it up. ‘What’s this bit of rubbish, then? Not got any stuck in yer teeth, have ye?’
The seal blinked slowly at him, then twisted gracefully and disappeared under the waves.
The jar in Graham’s hand was intact and appeared to have a piece of paper inside. Probably from one of those fools who thought it was romantic to toss their worries into the ocean, as if it needed their emotional garbage on top of the literal garbage it already suffered.
Still, driven by curiosity, Graham unscrewed the lid and unrolled the little piece of paper to see what it said.
He read it once, read it again, then stared off, dumbfounded, into the distance. ‘How the bloody hell did you manage that?’ he murmured.
Graham,the note began in a scratchy scrawl that he recognised as Rory’s.All good here. Got my man. Married him, if you’d believe it. I’d have asked you to be my best man but travel would have been difficult. Thanks for everything mate. I’ll probably come visit eventually. But not too soon, still busy fucking off. The seal’s name is Acha, by the way. She’s friendly and likes crabs if you have any. Take care and shit. Rory.
As the wind picked up and whipped at his face, Graham laughed, a great belly laugh, and threw a salute to his disappeared friend.
