Title: ONCE UPON A TIME

Author: Charlestonian Romantic

Rating: R

Classification: Romance (Harm/Mac)

Feedback: Always appreciated, but never required or expected.

Summary: Meant to be Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder – The Sequel. A promised bedtime story as written and told by Harmon Rabb to Sarah MacKenzie.

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters belong to Paramount and CBS. No copyright infringement intended, nor am I making a dime off these simple words and fantasies.

2300 Hours Local
Harm's Place
Union Station

They left McMurphy's after their dance with a wave to Sturgis and Bud they were out the door headed to Harm's place.

They had spent most of the night talking about her experiences in Saudi and then about the case they had shared before she left that he had finally finished. After only a few hours the jet lag caught up with her and she fought to stay awake. Harm offered to take her home, but she wanted to stay. She disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared moments later dressed only in a white long sleeved button down shirt of his, buttoned only once, over the valley between her breasts. The shirt was so long on her, nearly to her knees and it teased with glimpses of her firm body as she made her way over to the bed where he waited for her under the covers.

Mac smiled at the eager expression in his eyes. She nearly lost her composure, nearly losing herself to laughter, as his mouth hung open, his gaze glued to the front of the shirt she wore. Typical Flyboy, she thought to herself as she stopped by the bed and smiled down at him, but I wouldn't have him any other way. Slowly she unbuttoned the single button holding the shirt closed and eased the white cotton garment off her shoulders, letting it fall down her arms to pool on the floor at her feet.

He reached his hand out to her, his expression was one of awe and appreciation, not lustful or uncomfortably blatant. She placed her hand in his and let herself be drawn into his warm, strong embrace. Mac settled herself, comfortably, on top of him. He wrapped his strong arms around her after he turned off the light. She smiled in the darkness, allowing herself the impish delight of rubbing her toes against the coarse hair of his muscular legs, her giggles soft and sweet meeting the low chuckles that echoed within his chest.

"Get some sleep, Marine." He ordered softly then kissed the top of her head.

"What about that bedtime story?" she asked, sleepily.

"Let's get rid of the jet lag first." He insisted, hugging her even closer.

She mumbled something incoherent as she succumbed to sleep, tucking her hand under the cheek resting on his chest. From that point on, she didn't move a muscle, comfortable against him; from that point on, he didn't move a muscle, comforted that she was finally in his arms where she belonged, where he needed her to be.

The next morning……

"Sarah, wake up, baby." He whispered in the ear of the beautiful woman he held in his arms. Her bare skin was warm and soft, her body a perfect fit against his. He had been up for nearly an hour, listening to her sleep, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

"Mac…" he called again, trying a different tactic. He felt her stir and her body move against him as she stretched, lazily, in his arms.

"Good Morning, Flyboy." She sighed, settling back against his chest, eyes falling yet again.

"Oh no you don't, Marine!" he laughed, tickling her sides. "You know as well as I do to get back into routine to beat jet lag. Up and at'em!" he ordered, moving from beneath her, taking the covers with him as he exited to bed.

"Where are you going?" Mac called in a pout, hugging his pillow to her, blocking his view.

"To fix breakfast. You may want to get up and get comfortable. I'm ready to start your bedtime story and I hope to have it finished by this evening just in time to tuck you in."

"What are you talking about? Bedtime stories are for nighttime. Why would you start this in the morning?"

"I've had close to two months to work on this story. It's pretty long so I wanted to start early. The plan for the day is to sit on the couch with you in my arms and read to you…that is…if you don't mind." His flyboy grin was tugging at his lips as he waited for her reply.

Mind? It was the most incredible romantic thing she had ever heard! Who was this man?!

"Mind if I put some clothes on?" she purred, rolling on top of the pillow, allowing him full view of the naked profile and derriere.

His only response was to arch one eyebrow and glance to the shirt she had worn the night before, still pooled on the floor.

After breakfast they settled together on the couch under an old down comforter. She was settled in front of him, leaning back in his arms. He opened the door on the end table and pulled out a leather bound book and opened it to the first page.

"Once upon a time….In a time of Knights and their Ladies, of powerful wizards and Kings, lived a young woman. Her name was Sarah.

Sarah was once the daughter of the town drunkard. Her legacy beyond that was that she had been the prize to a powerful wizard during a card game of chance with her father.

She was not as surprised as some when she had been gambled away. Her father had told her everyday what a burden she was to him after the death of her mother many years ago. After her mother's death, he turned away from his brother and job at the castle aviary, turning to the bottle instead. He stayed drunk most of the time, spending the rest of his time sleeping it off. Soon Sarah and her father were dirt poor and forced into other means of survival. Sarah learned what she could from the others in their situation. She learned the art of thievery and deception.

Many in town through the years had given her the nickname of "Gypsy". She was one of the best pickpockets in town, and could charm the purse of many a lord of the realm with her expressive brown eyes and beautiful impish smile. Her father reveled in the spoils, yet continued to berate and, depending on how much ale he had imbibed, beat her black and blue. It had truly been a hellish life.

The day Sarah had been packed off to serve the one who had won her in a simple game of chance, she felt a freedom that she had never experienced in her limited years of experience. She had not even been allotted a chance to consider the man who now owned her, but anything was better than her father. She followed along behind the horse her new benefactor rode in silence, only the worn clothes on her back and a prayer in her heart.

As they journeyed, Albertus' thoughts revolved around the filthy young woman he had won away from the bastard that had whelped her. She was decidedly female in gender, a gentleness to her mannerisms, as much as she tried to hide it. She was a beautiful spirit, her aura clear and bright. Her disguise from the world was ingenious in its inception and carried out with much confidence. Her hair was shorn as short as a boy's, her face filthy, she reeked of sweat and manure. She was a lanky in build from what he could surmise, the only clothes upon her, her father's hand me downs. She had wrapped coarse woolen strips to her feet in lieu of shoes, a true testament to her resourcefulness. The genius of the disguise spoke volumes to Albertus, at her age and (obvious) beauty, she would most likely have been destined to fall prey to the men that thought little of women of her station and suffer a lifetime of service and drudgery.

Albertus had found himself fascinated by her during one of his rare visits to the town near his holdings. Sitting in the town square, he spied the very essence of a wood sprite streaking along the walkways, her hands everywhere at once, yet not seeming to land or pause in their movement. The look on her face was one of budding beauty, yet of strength and intelligence. Her speed and agility caught his interest, as did the pick pocketing she was so well trained at, it seemed. He followed her that day and into the evening, staying back far enough to not arouse suspicion. When she finally ducked into one of the more squalid huts he stopped to wait the outcome, his instinct demanding he pause. Within moments Albertus could hear the sound of a man's voice thundering and the sounds of objects being thrown against the walls…and the soft pleading of a young woman's voice. He waited until nearly dawn, watching over the small hut, his entire being at odds with the decision he had just made.

He had drawn the drunkard into a card game of chance near the ale-masters dwelling the next evening. Albertus had acted with much empathy at the poor condition of the drunkard's clothes and haggard expression. It did not take long into the game for the sot to lose hand after hand. Soon the man claimed he had nothing left when he folded at long last. Albertus reminded him that he did have a daughter he could wager, being only chattel as compared to a son. The idiot agreed and then lost her on his next hand. Albertus gave him some ale for his trouble and a goat and turned and walked away. Without a word to anyone, Albertus gained his horse and began his journey home.

"Why, Father?" Sarah pleaded, demanding an answer, ashamed. Her only family, turning her away to the unknown.

"Get out of here, girl!" he yelled, as he kicked out in her direction as one would at a persistent stray animal. "You are worthless to me, nothing but a thorn in my side! Be gone with you!!"

And with those parting words she left the only world she knew behind.

It was late when they reached the foreboding manor and she could not stop her shivering, both from fear and excitement. As they entered the bailey and he came down off his horse to face her, she found herself staring down at her feet, fearful. He nudged a finger under her chin, raising her face to meet his gaze. Albertus cut an imposing figure as he towered over her, his expression hard and unyielding. Yet, in his eyes she thought she might have seen a fleeting glimmer of compassion and she felt somehow safe.

"What is your name, girl?" he asked gruffly, his voice deep.

"Sarah." She answered, mustering what courage she had left.

"Welcome to my home, Sarah, Go and find my housekeeper, Harriet, and she will provide you with a bath and some clothes to wear. Then you will join me for the evening meal and we will discuss your new tenure."

He turned and walked away leading his horse to the stables. Sarah watched him walk away with a shiver of uncertainty as she walked to the door and knocked for entrance. A young woman, her face full of sunshine, with hair to match opened the door. With one look at the sight in front of her, the matron expressed her surprise and welcomed Sarah in with a friendly smile. Sarah told her what the man had told her and in no time found herself scrubbed clean, then attired in a worn, but clean gown. Harriet was a talkative woman, her voice chattering away excitedly about this new change of events. Sarah felt nearly overwhelmed by the attention, but felt safe all the same, just as she had with her benefactor.

Harriet led her to the main hall and seated Sarah at the end of a long table, the only furniture in the room, centered in front of the huge hearth ablaze with a warm fire. Sarah sat quietly, taking in the enormity of the space and savoring the warmth of the fire. Her curiosity begged to be appeased, she longed to wander through the dwelling. But she fought to sit still and await her host, not wanting to appear unduly rude.

"I hope you are hungry, Sarah. As my cook normally prepares quite the feast upon my return from my travels." A voice called to her from the arkened staircase behind her. She had jumped at the sound of his voice, booming in the empty hall. He frightened her in some ways, but she clung to the hope that all men were not like her father.

She turned to find him standing at the base of the steps, travel cloak gone, it is place a long black mantle over black breeches and a white shirt. He had no hair, the top of his head seemed to reflect the light of the fire. His strong profile was as if etched in stone. Yet, she could still see that glimmer in his eyes, as if he could see right through her. He took his place at the opposite end of the table as she continued to stare down at her hands, folded on her lap.

"First, I wish to assure you that I have not obtained you for my own personal reasons. There will be no untoward advances on your person. You are here only to assist me in my work" he explained "You are a smart girl, are you not?"

Her relief at his first statement rushed through her, the tension she had tried to deny ebbed away, though not entirely, curiosity building in its place.

"I have been told so, my lord. But I cannot read or write." She admitted.

He smiled at her, the sharp edges of his face softened, "Not yet, my dear. But you will. I need an assistant. One who is strong and able, honest, intelligent and curious. When I saw you, I felt you excelled in these traits. I hope that I am not mistaken."

"No, My Lord, you are not mistaken!" She could barely contain her excitement! She was going to read and write! How she had always wanted to do those things! She envied those to whom the symbols on the pages could speak.

Both the cook and Harriet served the food before he could explain further. They both began to dine in silence, for each hunger had taken over from the long journey. The cook was a younger man with a sweet smile. Like Harriet, he had a welcome look in his eyes that touched her. The steaming plates before them were piled high with wonderfully aromatic foods Sarah had never seen before. Albertus noticed her interest in the culinary delights before her and smiled with pride, introducing the cook to her.

"Sarah, I would like to introduce you to my head cook, Robert. He is the husband of Harriet. He has a wonderful eye and palette for food. A master chef, if I do say so myself!" Albertus announced, raising his glass in a toast.

Sarah watched a faint blush stain the ruddy cheeks of the cook and then caught the proud gaze from Harriet from the kitchen doorway. She envied them the loving gaze they shared.

Robert stood by her chair, awaiting her first bite, smiling in anticipation. The succulent chicken melted in her mouth, bringing and immediate smile to her face and a sigh of relief from Robert.

When all courses had come and gone, she felt exhaustion set in and made every attempt to keep her eyelids from falling shut. Albertus startled her with a touch on her arm. She had not heard him get up or move to her end of the table. He felt her begin to tremble, as her eyes became wild in panic. He recalled the tortuous ranting of her father at her in that squalid hut and he understood her fear. He took his hand away quickly and stepped away to allow Harriet in to help Sarah from her chair.

"Sarah, Harriet will take you to your room. You must be exhausted from our journey. We shall talk again in the morning." His voice was so gentle and low, even amidst her panic, she was almost calmed listening to him.

She barely noticed Harriet take her arm and lead her upstairs to a room warmed by the fire in the hearth. Harriet folded down the linens and removed Sarah's slippers before covering the girl and drawing the bed curtains around the bed.

Albertus climbed to the room at the top of the tower of his holding, anxious to begin her training, anxious to see the truest light dawning on the face of one so willing for knowledge again. A young man sat bent over a desk writing in a large book with a solitary candle the only illumination for the room.

"Harmon." Albertus called to the young man. "I have returned."

The figure at the desk turned and stood, his height and expanse nearly eclipsed the candle light behind him. He was handsome in the way a man should be, not pretty like the lords in court. He had a truly reckless smile and expressive blue/green eyes, coupled with the arrogance of youth, many of the female persuasion would find themselves swept away by his charms. His shoulders were broad and he had a strength about him in both body and nature. He was like a son to Albertus, though not in truth. Similarly acquired, in a sense, as Sarah.

"Did you find another assistant?" Harmon asked, drawing forward to clasp the elder's hand in his.

"Yes, I have been successful. She has a lot to learn, but she seems to have a quickness of the mind, so it should not take long."

"SHE?" Harmon, stared at his Master in disbelief, "A woman?"

"Gender does not further us in this purpose either way. She is a means to an end, as you are well aware, Harmon. Once you leave I shall be dependent on her to help me as you have. The time grows near, your destiny at hand. We have been preparing for this for some time, do not lose focus."

Harmon could only nod solemnly in reply, reassuring himself that Albertus had his own way of thinking and reasoning. It was not his place to question this man who had taken on the quest to save him from this prison of his own making.

Harmon could only nod solemnly in reply, reassuring himself that Albertus had his own way of thinking and reasoning. It was not his place to question this man who had taken on the quest to save him from this prison of his own making.

Harriet gently shook her awake, the bed curtains pulled back to allow the warm sunlight to stream in the simple, yet cozy room. Sarah was so excited that she dressed in minutes and nearly tripping over the hem of her skirt as she raced to the main hall.

Her benefactor awaited her at his place at the head of the table. Slowing, she felt a bit guilty for making him wait. She took to her chair in more lady-like fashion than what she had displayed running down the stairs. When she was comfortably settled, she glanced up to find him smiling at her, almost like an indulgent uncle. She nodded in greeting, trying to affect a sort of dignity whilst trying to calm the blush of childish eagerness.

"I trust you slept well, Sarah. We have much to do today."

"My Lord, please forgive me, but you have not yet told me your name or who you are."

"You are correct. My name is Lord Albertus Chegwidden. I am His Majesty's trusted wizard and counselor." He stood to effect an exaggerated bow. She tried to hide a disbelieving smile behind her hand.

"You do not believe me?" he asked at her skeptic look. "Well, we shall endeavor to open that clever mind of yours to many
possibilities. Alas, one thing at a time! "

Albertus led Sarah to the room at the top of the tower. She was still a bit wary, thinking him a bit `touched' with his confession of being a wizard. It was a small room filled with shelves of books and bottles galore. One large desk stood in the middle, broad and strong, covered in parchment and feathers, ink and books. She wandered over to the desk, leaving Albertus at the door to observe her. Her fingers ached to pick up the feathers and scrawl over the empty pages, just to make her mark. Her fingertips brushed the soft quills, the crisp paper, and the smooth leather of the books. She wandered all the way around the desk, her fingers tracing everything they came into contact with. Albertus saw the uncertainty in her expression give way to that of yearning and pleasure. He could see curiosity overtake her, the way her lips parted in awe, the way her eyes sparkled with temptation. For all accounts and purposes he had to admit that he had been right from the beginning.

>From the far corner of the room a loud squawk sounded, startling Sarah, she turned to find its source. On a rounded perch a hooded bird stood. The snowy white feathers of its chest, ruffled in frustration, the brown and black feathers over its back and wings were sleek and robust. Sympathy washed over her at such a powerful creature burdened with what seemed a stiff heavy hood over its head. She walked a few steps closer and it flapped its wings and sounded again, almost in warning.

Albertus just chuckled, noticing that she stood her ground and had not backed away. "He can smell you. Do not be frightened. He isn't used to you yet."

"Where did you get him? Is it truly a Peregrine? Why does he wear that hood on his head? Is he hurt?" she rattled off question after question.

"He found me, yes, the hood prevents him from becoming upset and he is as hale and hearty as any other peregrine falcon." He answered each question, in turn asking one of his own, "Are you interested in Falconry?"

"My uncle used to raise the falcons in the aviary for the castle until he died a year ago. I used to help him train them and care for them. I truly loved it. Only I never saw him use a hood. Maybe because they were so used to us he didn't feel the need to."

Sarah turned to the falcon and with the softest of touches, grazed her fingertips over the downy white of its breast with one hand and removed the hood with the other. She found herself staring at the proud profile of the bird, captured by the directness of its gaze.

"Shhhh.." she tried to calm him, as she continued to stroke his feathered breast. "Such an uncommon home for such a magnificent creature. I do hope we can become friends, as I do not wish to see you wearing this again." She placed the leather hood on the desk.

"Does he have a name?" she asked, still amazed that the falcon seemed to be staring right back at her, the same question echoed in his eyes for her.

Albertus paused before answering, watching the interaction between the two. He knew that he had been right about his choice of her, the results certainly looking most positive at this juncture…the beginning.

"'His name is Harmon, Sarah." He answered, finally, answering both their questions at once.

"What an unusual name," she mused, "How did you come up with such an unusual name?"

"That's what he told me his name was, " Albertus explained, matter-of-factly, " Who am I to question anyone's name with a name like `Albertus'?"

During the days that followed, Harmon watched from his perch with rapt attention as Albertus began Sarah's instruction. Harmon was skeptical, at first. Most beautiful women, in his limited experience, had little caring for knowledge and books. He was pleasantly surprised by her growing interest in all of the subjects and her eager grasp at the ideals and analytical thinking. She was very diligent in her tasks, anxiously looking forward to each new assignment with alacrity and abandon. Harmon found himself watching over Sarah from his perch by the window, enjoying an unobstructed
view of her delicate profile, the furrow of her brow when she concentrated on each new task. Her clumsiness and inexperience with the ink and quill diminished within minutes as she slowly guided the feather tip through each stoke with precision and determination. Harmon thought her quite charming as he studied the way her tongue would just barely peek out between her lips as she carefully formed each symbol on the parchment.

Sarah became so serious in her studies, yet there were moments her quick, dry wit would burst upon he and Albertus with such suddenness that at times they were bewildered as to whether she was in fact, jesting, or if she was indeed serious. Those were the moments that her face would light up with such glorious light, her eyes would sparkle, her smile warm and bright. She would tease Albertus until the man's normally stony demeanor would soften and he would snort in reply, his hand over his face to hide the smile she had charmed out of him. That the smile had also spread to his eyes, well, that was a secret between the falcon and his lady, as their benefactor was to be respected at all times.

When Sarah was not watching him, Harmon found himself staring at her. His gaze followed each gesture, each smile and he committed each to memory, to reminisce about later when she was gone to her room. Sometimes he caught her glancing at him in return with a soft smile or a knowing wink, as if they shared some sort of secret together.

Twice a day, outside of her studies, Albertus taught her the ways of Falconry from the hunter's perspective and not the trainer's. One lesson in the morning and one at dusk, in the prime hunting hours of small prey. Sarah wore the thick leather glove upon her hand, proudly, barely grasping the jesses, or leather bindings, at Harmon's feet, never bothering with a hood. She knew he would not be frightened by anything. Harmon had a wise, brave look about him that she so admired and displayed her respect of him by banishing the hood to the desk upstairs. Harmon preened proudly when she praised his hunting prowess after each kill. He loved the way she gently caressed his white-feathered breast and whispered her admiration of his skill and courage, her smile only for him. Unbeknownst to the other, they looked forward to those times together outside of the confining walls of the tower, reveling together in a bond formed of trust and
friendship.

The most difficult time for the two of them came when darkness fell with the night. Albertus carried Harmon back to the tower room and Sarah was dismissed to her room for a light supper alone. During this time she felt the loneliness of her situation. She filled the time by repetitiously reworking over the previous assignments of the day and studying the new tasks for the next. But every night as she lay in bed awake, staring up at the firelight play upon the ceiling, she missed him, her Harmon, her friend. Sarah knew she was being foolish, having befriended a simple bird, even after working with her Uncle in the aviary. She had known and trained many such birds, but in her heart she knew she had never known one such as Harmon. Sometimes she felt that he could see to her soul and know the love and caring that grew within her heart for him. He shared in every laugh and suffered through every frustration with her. She knew it in her heart to be true, that he cared for her, she could see it in his eyes.

Harmon was relegated to the tower room at night where he assisted Albertus in the many ongoing experiments and research of the solution to the curse that bound him to a dual life. It was so long ago that the words had been spoken in hate and rained upon him, sometimes he forgot what it was like to be normal. It had not been so bad at first; he loved the freedom of soaring above the treetops and the challenge of the hunt. On the other side, at night he loved to work with the books and figures with Albertus, as an equal, yet always the student. He was torn and the day of reckoning drew closer leaving the both of them to frantically tear through thousands of pages in just as many books to find the answer to his dilemma, that missing link that would make him whole.

Yet, in the wee hours of the morning, when Albertus finally succumbed to sleep at his desk, Harmon found his thoughts drawn to Sarah. He indulged himself by poring over her assignments of the day, his fingers tracing the swirls of her penmanship as if he could feel her fingers on the quill through his own. Sarah fascinated him, in more ways than he would admit and now it became in internal battle to fight the feelings he felt growing for her within his heart.

The soft smiles, the gentle caresses, the way her eyes mirrored the pride he had for her back to him in such a way to make his breath catch in his throat and his heart forget to beat. He knew they could never be together, it was not part of the equation of his destiny. It became a daily struggle to keep his thoughts and feelings from revolving around Sarah and the way that she made him feel. He had to remind himself that she was his replacement upon the culmination of his quest. The moments with her were just fleeting, but cherished and burned in to his memory to be remembered forever.

Albertus wanted to tell Sarah of Harmon's predicament. He argued to Harmon that with her analytical mind and sharp intelligence it would bring a new perspective, a fresh pair of eyes to the search for the solution. But Harmon refused time and time again. This was his destiny and he would face it alone.

This had been such a magical time for her! She never knew that learning could be so much more than she had hoped. The more Albertus taught her, the more questions she needed answered, and the more she needed to know! He was incredibly patient with her, even when she argued with him. Sometimes she felt as if he was deliberately goading her into a debate, enjoying her reactions and explanations of her points. She had truly never felt so alive! Well, except when she was in the meadow with Harmon watching him fly.

Sarah was fascinated by his grace in flight and his accuracy of the kill. Sometimes she imagined herself up soaring with him. The wind all around her, swirling and diving together….such a fantasy. It was when she was with him that she did not feel immeasurably alone. It was strangely comforting to have him with her, outside or in the tower room.

Sarah daydreamed about the man he would be, if there ever was such a man. He would stand tall and proud, he would be handsome and exude masculinity, he would be charming and…arrogant. And his eyes…..Sarah often lost herself in that daydream. Only one aspect of him was foreign to her dreams, the sound of his voice. So many men had yelled at her or berated her, their voices the only echoes in her soul, save Albertus' low tones.

What would Harmon sound like saying her name? Ah, the fodder for more daydreams…

Weeks passed into months and Sarah finally had had enough of the isolation of her room at nights. Gradually she began to explore the rambling fortress, now her home. Each hallway and corridor held wonderful pictures painted of various people. Wall sconces were dimly lit only in certain corridors and in the beginning of her tours she only took those paths she could see. One night, emboldened that she had not yet been caught, she decided to venture in the dark corridors. She soon found herself climbing up the stairs to Albertus' tower room. On her way she thought of many an excuse to bring her to the room.

`I forgot my quill, I've run out of parchment, of ink…of patience!' Sarah shook her head, they all sounded so hollow. She just craved companionship.

She found the tower room door ajar and pushed it slowly open the rest of the way. Albertus was at a side table watching bubbling beakers full of different colored liquids. His back was to her and she breathed a sigh of relief, deciding that since he was busy she would just slip back out from where she came.

"Albertus, I think I may have found something." A voice called from the other side of the room where the books were kept.

The voice was smooth and deep, piquing her curiosity. She froze at the threshold as she watched a silhouette form between the shelves of books. Whoever it was, he was tall, his shoulders broad, his hips narrow and his legs powerfully built. She practically laughed aloud at her surprise that she could see so much from a simple silhouette.

Suddenly, he emerged from the shadows, the light falling on the tan leather of his breeches, the dark leather of his boots and the fawn linen that adorned the broad expanse of shoulders and chest. She admired him as one would a prime horseflesh, her hands shaking with the urge to run down each sinewy muscle in admiration and respect. It wasn't until he glanced up at the doorway where she hid in plain site that his full impact hit her.

It was like an actual blow to her middle as his eyes met hers. Blue/Green joined with Chocolate brown and each was soon lost in each other. He knew her, as she did him and they began to walk toward one another, unbidden and unknowing of their actions. Their only thoughts were to reach out and touch that which they had hungered for, to make sure the other was real.

"Sarah." "Harmon." They whispered each other's name as a statement, not a question in their minds. He met her in the middle of the room, his whole being pulling toward her, yet only his hand was able to move, his palm cupping her cheek, his fingers tangling in the soft tendrils of hair at her neck. She was warm and soft, just as he'd imagined.

His hand was so warm and rough against her face, yet it was the most wonderful feeling, leaving her mind spinning! She closed her eyes and covered his hand with hers, pressing it closer against her skin. For a moment, there was no passage of time, just two hearts meeting for the first time, yet their souls knowing each other since the beginning of time.

Harmon watched as she closed her eyes and covered his hand with her small delicate one, her hands as soft and smooth as her cheek. Sarah had the smile of an angel, he decided, when she opened her eyes yet again to smile into his. But, he knew, she had the temptation of a gypsy, which was quite the combination, as Albertus had told him once. Fire and Ice.

"You should not be up here, Sarah," Harmon told her, gently, his voice soft and low,. His other hand found her other cheek. "You should not see me like this."

"But this is how I see you everyday. In my minds' eye, you are not just a falcon. Your eyes give you away, Harmon, they always have. Yours are not the eyes of a Peregrine falcon. I had always suspected, but never knew for sure until now."

She dropped slightly into a curtsy, at least she tried, as it was nearly impossible to move, for he held fast to her. " Hello, Harmon, my dearest friend."

"Sweetest Sarah, the pleasure is all mine." He whispered his hands drawing her face to his, her lips to his.

Neither of them gave a thought to Albertus' presence in the room as they came together, slowly, inch by inch. They gazed into each other's eyes as their lips met, each afraid that this was just a dream. The contact was exquisite as their bodies drew ever so much closer. Sarah felt that she had finally found where she belonged, in his arms. She had never felt so secure, never felt so cherished as she felt now. She could feel the fingers of one hand brush against her scalp, tangling in her hair as he deepened their kiss. The other hand strayed down her back to her waist, slowly, pulling her closer. His strong arms didn't just hold her against him, they seemed to cradle her gently, protectively.

Harmon found himself intoxicated all at once by the taste of her lips, the scent of lavender in her hair, the feel of her in his arms. How many nights had he lain awake, aching to hold her, to touch her. He knew that he could not hope for more than just this moment. But enjoy this moment, he would. He felt her sigh softly into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, that slight sound was like molten fire through his blood. He tried valiently not to crush her to him, but his body would not be denied. Control was slowly ebbing away, emotion riding high, for once split second he forgot about his quest and could only think of her. It was a truly liberating feeling!

Albertus cleared his throat, intentionally breaking the moment. They both turned to face him, dropping their hands to their sides, their eyes to the floor. He smiled at the blushes on their cheeks, knowing full well there would be many more to come between the two of them.

"As you have wandered in, Sarah, you may stay. Please take a seat at the desk. I believe it is now time to explain your position and the expectations it entails. Harmon, please take a seat at the table near the bookshelves. I shall explain from the beginning."

Mac waited for Harm to continue, turning in his arms to find him smiling at her.

"Why don't we stop here and go get a bite to eat? It's noon and I know you have to be starving."

"I'm not hungry at all." She lied , anxious to continue the tale. Just as the words left her mouthm her stomach growled audibly. She dropped her forehead onto his chest, enmbarrassed and trying to hide her laughter.

"Not hungry at all, huh?" he teased, his arms around her in a big bear hug. "Get up, dressed and we're on our way to a Beltway burger! My treat!"

The rain started just as they walked in the door from lunch. The living room had darkened with the storm outside causing Mac to shiver, folding her arms across her chest.

"Cold?" Harm asked her, coming up behind her and pulling her back into his warm embrace. "We could just forgo the story for awhile and take a nap…" he suggested, his breath warm against her neck.

"No, I'm fine, really. I'll grab a blanket and meet you on the couch, OK?" She turned her head and kissed the tip of his nose. " I have to admit that I'm rather caught up in your story. I didn't know you could write."

He released her with a laugh and wandered to the couch. "Why thank you, Ma'am. And I can read too!" he said sarcastically.She tossed the blanket over his head as he settled on the couch. "You know what I meant, Flyboy! I didn't know you could write like that! Stories and stuff."

Harm pulled the blanket down off his head and spread it out, holding the edge in invitation to her.

"I enjoyed English Lit in college. I didn't know, at the time, that I would ever use it again as I was studying and working towards being a pilot. But I came to find out it is a formidable tool in the courtroom!" He flashed her that Flyboy grin and grabbed her hand, pulling her down with him on the couch. He sat at one end of the couch and settled her with her head on a pillow in his lap. He tucked the blanket around her and turned on the light on the end table. With one hand, he opened the book; the other was draped over her reclined form, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

" Are we ready to continue?" he asked her.

"Read on Shakespeare." She sighed in contentment.

"As you have wandered in, Sarah, you may stay. Please take a seat at the desk. I believe it is now time to explain your position and the expectations it entails. Harmon, please take a seat at the table near the bookshelves. I shall explain from the beginning."

Both Harmon and Sarah looked at Albertus with anxious gazes, each reason different than the other. Harmon feared his past, Sarah feared for his future.

"Harmon was the favored son and heir of a King. His best friend growing up was the son of the King's Counselor, who was a very powerful wizard. The boys were close from childhood. Training together, hunting together, playing together. It was once said that where you found one, the other was surely to follow. When they were old enough, Harmon and Luke left with the King to fight in one of the many crusades of the time. The King's advisor served in the King's place at the throne as the King had no other sons. Years passed and the war was at its end.

While everyone was preparing for the army to return, word came that the King had lost his life on the battlefield of the last skirmish. Soon all of the Kingdom was waiting for the return of the King's son and heir to take over the throne. Harmon returned in secret because of this. He desired no fanfare for his arrival, because of the news he bore to his best friend's father. With a heavy heart he found the wizard in his room late one night. The wizard welcomed him with open arms. Harmon took the man's hands
in his own, and proceeded to relay the fact that in the last battle, the battle his own father had died in, the wizard's son, Luke, had also lost his life protecting his King."

Sarah gasped at the sad tale, her eyes welled with tears, her fingers pressed to her lips to cease the trembling.

"The Wizard listened to Harmon's softly spoken words, "Albertus continued, "without a readable expression on his face. When Harmon was finished the room filled with a sudden burst of wind, extinguishing all the candles, plunging the room into darkness. A low guttural chant began, first one voice, then it began to sound like a chorus of voices in a monotone drone surrounding Harmon. Frightened, Harmon moved closer to the wizard. A powerful blow came upon him sending him sprawling to the floor. His body hit with such force against the stone that the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Wincing in pain, Harmon looked up to find the wizard standing over him, eyes gleaming silver like liquid mercury. Confused, Harmon reached up to the wizard for help. A scowl darkened the elder man's face and he began to speak, his voice low and deep."

" You and your father have taken my son from me and with that you will pay. Your father has paid with his life already, although ignorant of his crimes against me, so you will have to suffer two-fold for your sins. I condemn you to a life of duality. By day you will live as a subservient bird, forced to hunt for another's whims. By night you will be a man with nothing left in life but to wait for my judgment. This will continue until I merit your sins and those of your father's are equal to my loss, the loss you both created. Because of this curse, you are banished from this kingdom, as you are unfit to rule. I will take the throne for myself and decree you dead with your father and you are banished herewith to live your life in shame."Albertus paused and glanced over to Harmon, who sat with his head in his hands, almost in defeat. He then turned to look at Sarah across the room and found her sitting straight trying in vain to control her emotions though her eyes were filled with tears, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"10 Years ago I spied a group of children at the edge of the forest on my land lobbing stones up in the trees. When I walked over to see what they were doing, they ran and a peregrine falcon fell to my feet. When I bent to check on it, I found that its wing had been broken and that the children had been tossing the stones at it as it tried to fly away from their malicious intentions. I wrapped the bird carefully in my robes and brought him here to see if I could fix what damage the children had rendered. The falcon was panicked and I gave it a small dose of sleeping drought to calm him. I set and wrapped the wing and laid him in a pile of rags on my desk to heal. When I returned later that night, I found a young man lying where the falcon had been, the bandage on the floor, the arm misshapen with the break. Giving him more of the drought I reset the bone and wrapped it again. A few hours before dawn Harmon awoke with a start, unsure of his surroundings and very afraid. I introduced myself and he asked for my help. He has been at my side ever since and we have both been researching the old wizard to find any writings of the curse or counter curse. Unfortunately we have found no such information anywhere."

Albertus wandered over to where Harmon sat and placed a fatherly hand on the young man's shoulder.

"We received a missive just yesterday from the wizard, ordering Harmon to come back and face his judgment. We are set to travel in one month's time."

"Where do I fit into all of this?" Sarah asked, though all she wanted to do was to run to Harmon and throw her arms about his neck and hold him tight to her.

"You will travel with us in the guise of being my niece. I need your eyes and intellect to protect Harmon by day and search out information from the members of the court. We need some indication as to the new nature of the wizard and what he intends to do to Harmon."

" I will be whatever you wish me to be. I will do whatever you wish me to do for Harmon's sake. But I am not familiar with a courtly life. I do not know if I can blend into that society as seamlessly as you seem to think." Sarah explained, part of her afraid for Harmon, part of her already anticipating this new adventure.

"We have a month, my dear, to begin the next phase of your training. You have all that it takes, beauty, intelligence, cunning, fire. Now we shall endeavor to show you how to use them!"

Harmon watched from his perch as Harriet draped and pinned more fabric against Sarah's figure. Sarah was standing on the table, a bored expression on her face as she held perfectly still with her arms out to the sides being fitted with a new, rather extravagant wardrobe. The velvets were deep jewel tones, the silks and linens of cream and snowy white. He had only just flown in, missing the fitting of the undergarments, but now watched with amusement as Sarah's patience waned for Harriet's ministrations.

Sarah tried to remain still, the lessons of the past few weeks running through her mind. The lessons so different from those before. Gone were the assignments of mathematics, sciences and philosophies. Now she was learning to talk, walk, act and be like a courtly female. She walked for miles with a book perched precariously on her head to straighten her posture and teach her to walk with grace. She served tea over an over to learn the intricacies of the practice and she
tried to memorize all the rules of conduct a proper lady must know before taking her place in a royal court. She felt, at times, like a rag doll, a pincushion, a fraud; but she kept Harmon in her thoughts and reminded herself that this was for his destiny and she could endure everything to keep him safe.

No matter what tortures Albertus had planned for the daylight hours, the nighttime hours were for Harmon. He would slip into her room late at night and wake her. They would sit and talk about anything and everything. She regaled him with tales of her "gypsy" days and he would tell her tales of his father and of life as a prince. Sometimes they would just lay together on her bed and stare at the fire in the hearth, content to just be in one another's arms. He would sit back against the pillows and she would lie next to him, her cheek resting on his chest above his heart, listening to the strong steady sound of his heartbeat. His fingers would weave themselves into her hair, sometimes curling the soft tresses around his fingers over and over again. They would stay like this until the wee hours before dawn, until he finally could stay no longer and with a kiss left her to sleep. It had been their nightly ritual and one she looked forward to everyday.

When Harriet finally finished, Sarah helped her clear the scraps of fabric from the room. Sarah spied some remnants of red silk and an idea came to her.

"Harriet, do you think you could make just one more outfit for me?" Sarah asked the woman who had now become her friend.

"I am afraid, mistress, that there is not much fabric left for another gown." Harriet told her.

"Tis not a gown, but a different outfit I have in mind. Let us to your chamber and I shall explain it to you." Sarah looked to the falcon on his perch. "It is a surprise for everyone, something my mother once taught me to do. I wish to share it with all of you, but I need an outfit for it. Do you mind?"

"Not at all, mistress, it would be my pleasure to help in any way that I can." Harriet agreed emphatically.

Both women hurriedly exited the main hall for the chambers upstairs leaving a very puzzled, yet intrigued Harmon to his thoughts.

That evening they all sat at the table in the main hall, each anxious for Sarah to make her entrance. She had told them that she wanted to share something her mother had taught her when she was young. Harriet, Robert, Albertus and Harmon sat in companionable silence. Only Harriet had an inkling of what was to come, but she was sworn to silence.

Sarah entered the room and stood in front of the hearth covered in one of Albertus' long dark mantles. She was cloaked from head to toe in the dark fabric, only her head and hands exposed.

"My mother was a gypsy. She would dance for those that paid her to dance, a dance from the country of her birth. Before Albertus found me, I was also known as "The Gypsy" and it amused me to no end that the people around me were so close to the truth, but for all the wrong reasons. I was infamous for practicing one aspect of the gypsy legacy. I was a thief, a pickpocket with a need to survive. But there is a truly wonderful part of gypsy life and as mother had taught it to me, now I wish to share it with you. It is a very sensual dance, but very beautiful and free-spirited. Please do not take offense. My mother told me that when she performed this dance in front of my father, he fell madly in love with her, demanding her hand in marriage only seconds after she was through. I perform this dance in honor of my mother."

She removed the dark mantle and tossed it away. Harmon's eyes were immediately drawn to the red silk that flowed over her body. She wore pantaloons of red silk that covered her from the silver bell-laden anklets at her ankles to her belly where the fabric was joined with layers of silver bells on a wide belt of silver chain. Her midriff was bare , her bosom encased in a halter of red silk that left her shoulders and arms bare. Bands of silver chain and tiny bells circled her upper arms and wrists, small cymbals at her fingertips. All were in awe at the simple beauty of her attire, admittedly somewhat taken aback at its immodesty of the times.

Sarah nodded to Harriet who took a small lute from under the table and began to play a slow tune upon it. Sarah's hips swayed in time with the music, the tiny bells tinkling with each gesture. Her arms slowly raised above her head, fingers chiming the cymbals. She moved slowly with such grace, her eyes sparkling at the freedom of the dance. The silk flowed about her body with each movement, winding with each twirl.

Her audience was captivated by the romantic nature of the recital. Sarah's movements were as fluid as a rushing river at times and then as slow as a honey dripping from a spoon. Albertus stole a glance at Harmon and nearly laughed at the young man's dumbstruck expression. Lost was he to the sensuality Sarah displayed. Harmon's eyes followed every gyration of her body, his ears tuned to every bell that sounded. When she was finished they all applauded and she blushed prettily at the attention. They called for more and she acquiesced; each new song was performed with a different rhythm of movement. She was elated by their attention and humbled by their obvious pleasure. For once she was not ashamed of her heritage, she was proud to be her mother's daughter.

Late that night, Harmon entered her room, just as he had the nights previous. She rose from her bed dressed in a simple cotton nightgown, to greet him, finding his eyes were ablaze with something other than merely joy at spending time alone with her. The intensity of his gaze burned through her, she could almost feel the heat penetrate her.

"Harmon, I am so sorry. I did not mean to anger you this evening." She said, trying to calm him.

"Sarah, do you know what that dance did to me?" he asked gruffly. Reaching for her. "What you do to me?"

"Are you truly angry with me?" she asked meekly, her shoulders trembling with uncertainty.

"Angry? No, Sarah, I am not angry. But damned if I can hold myself from you a moment longer!" he pulled her harshly into his arms, his mouth crashing down upon hers in a hot , possessive kiss.

Her body soaked in the passion radiating from him and she found herself drowning in his fire. He held the back of her head in his hand, slanting his mouth over and over hers in a devouring fashion as if he could not get enough. Finally he pulled away, gasping for air, his body shaking in a battle over what control her had left.

"Would you dance for me again, Sarah? Just for me, here in this room?" his voice was a strangled whisper.

"Yes." She sighed breathlessly.

Harmon walked to where her outfit lay on the chair by her bed. With an unsteady hand he picked up the delicate silk creation and handed it to her. He swallowed visibly before his next request.

"Do you think you could just wear the silver bells?"

Her eyes flew open and turned to his face. "Just the bells, not the silk?" she tried to ascertain that she knew his true meaning.

"Just the bells. The belt, the anklets, the arm bands. Please."

She nodded and stepped away to the other die of the bed, drawing the curtain forward to block his view.

"Please sit while I change then, Harmon. I won't be but a moment." She promised, her eyes downcast demurely.

He sat in the chair when she disappeared behind the curtain, his heart beating so fiercely feeling s if it just might burst from his chest. His mouth was so very dry, his head swimming with the images of her dance. He could hear the faint tinkling of the bells as they moved behind the velvet barrier and his palms began to sweat. I must be going crazy, he thought to himself, I am a warrior, a hunter, a man, and yet one woman can send me beyond all rational thought. More bells chimed and he stood abruptly, opening the window to feel the rush of cool air on his face before he spontaneously combusted. He gulped the coolness like a drowning man coming up for air and soon felt his control reigned back to a more a manageable level. He closed the window when she called his name.

He turned and found her standing before the fire, wearing only what he had requested, nothing more. The firelight played off the silver, glinting, it seemed off each single bell. The belt hung low on her bare torso, straddling her hips. The anklets and bracelets were in place, as were the armbands. But all else was forgotten in a split second. The warm light of the fire caressed her olive skin, hugging the curve of her breast, the slope of her waist, the flare of her hips.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked, innocently.

"Have you any idea how beautiful you are?" he breathed, incredulously.

The golden tones of the fire were captured in her eyes as she smiled
up at him.

"No. I have tried to hide myself away for most of my life. Trying to lose myself, not to draw attention. No one has really noticed me……..until you." She pointed to the edge of the bed, a silent request for him to be seated. "You did want me to dance for you?" she asked, smiling.

Willing his feet to uproot from the floor, he made his way to the end of the bed, laying across the bottom portion, his head propped up on his elbow. His arrogance and control seemed to have returned in tact, but for how long?

Sarah waited for him to settle before she began. She felt a bit embarrassed moving with no music so she hummed softly an old tune that her mother had sung for her as a child. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the gentle sway and the bell's music. Her hands wandered about her body becoming his, grazing over the suppleness of her skin and the soft hills and valleys of her body.

No sooner had she began than the control ebbed away from him. He steeled himself on the bed, trying not to ravish her. His hands ached to mirror hers as they traveled across her body. He wanted to feel the motion of her hips under his palms. Her innocent sensuality was beginning to drive him wild and he again shook with such passion that he could barely restrain.

Soon he could take the sweet torture no longer and he made his way to his feet to stand before her. He stilled her hands with his own, drawing them to his eager lips. She opened her eyes to find his heady gaze directed at her and she felt lightheaded and giddy. He stepped away and drew her arms akimbo for a closer look at her naked form.

"I wish to see you too." She stated softly, meeting his gaze again, this time with a fire of her own smoldering in their depths. She reached up and began to unbutton his shirt with trembling hands and within moments had divested him of all of his clothing to leave him as vulnerable to her gaze as she was to his. She stepped back gaze upon him and when their eyes finally met, the desire in her chocolate brown depths mirrored his desire for her. He pulled her to him , marveling at the contact of her heated flesh pressed against his.

He guided her back with him; she, collapsing on top of him as he fell back on the bed. She straddled him as she sat up His hands found their way about her body, warm, strong hands. The powerful sensations coursing through her at his touch found her panting and begging for more with soft moans escaping between her parted lips. He rose up and captured her skin with his teeth, sucking it in, trying to take it all into the hot wet recesses of his mouth. She threw her head back with abandon, calling his name pressing her body against him, offering more and more. He worshipped her body, her flushed skin, with both his hands and his mouth until the passion within her threatened to explode. But with one simple caress of his fingers, she was lost in the brilliance of senses crashing all around her.

He watched, enraptured, as she succumbed to the power of her pleasure, feeling her shake and writhe with each wave of ecstacy. Finally he could control himself no more, his own need demanding to be fulfilled. He bucked up with his hips and flipped them both over, his body now resting between her legs. He felt the barrier he knew he would find and took a ragged breath.

"Sarah, if you want to stop…please tell me now."

"I want you, Harmon." She told him and raised her hips to rub herself against him, delighting in the friction it caused. "Please…."

He pressed forward tearing away the barrier that held her exquisite tightness from him and heard her gasp of pain.

"Harmon…" she cried, softly, tears springing to her eyes, confused at the pain.

"Sweet Sarah, it only hurts for a moment, I promise." He spoke softly as he shook with restraint, holding perfectly still until her body grew used to his hardness cradled within her. Seconds passed and he felt her relax and he began to move inside of her in long, slow strokes.

The pain from moments before dissipated as the pleasure once again began to build within her. With each thrust he sent her to the heavens and back. The weight of his body pressed her further into the blankets they laid upon in sweet rhythm. The thrusts soon became more powerful , more frenzied as his own release came near. She pulled him closer to her, her nails pressing into the muscles of his shoulders, her head rolling from side to side in obvious loss of control. She wrapped her legs around his hips, locking them at his back, raising her own hips to take him in that much further.

"Look at me, Sarah." He demanded in a low growl. Their eyes met and he thrust once more releasing himself into her the same time she found her own release. His body shuddered with each wave of pleasure that crashed over him, feeling her wetness flow over him at that same moment.

Spent, he braced himself up on his elbows, feeling her breasts brush against his chest with each gasp for air.

"Sarah…"

"SHhhh…" she sighed softly, placing her fingers over his lips. "Just hold me, please."

And he did just that.

"Oh my god, Harm!" Mac gasped pulling the book out of hi hands, " That was so…oh my God!"

"Did you like it? I borrowed a couple of Harriet's novels to get the gist of how to write this. It sounded OK, right?"

"OK?" she looked at him in shock, " No, it wasn't OK."

"It wasn't?" his face fell for a moment.

Mac sat up and took his face in her hands " It was amazing!" she pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

"So are you up for that nap now? Harm asked when the kiss ended, his eyebrows jutting up and down in invitation, flyboy grin beaming.

"Call that an intermission, Commander." She smiled at him then settled against him, snuggling close. "Please continue."

Harm paused and waited until she looked up at him again. How he loved to tease and torment her sometimes! Just to see the fire in her eyes.

"Can I call the next intermission?" he asked, hopefully.

"We'll see." She quipped and settled back.

With a sigh of frustration, Harm continued the tale…….

"What have I done?" Harmon thought aloud to himself in a whisper as he held her sleeping form in his arms. "I have nothing to offer her, yet I take the most precious possession she has to give."

He eased out from under her, leaving her to snuggle a pillow in the warmth that his body left behind. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair, his emotions warring within him. He reached over and brushed the hair away from her eyes. She smiled sleepily and mumbled something incoherent.

"I am so sorry, Sarah. It was not my right to make love with you, not my right to love you as I do. I have nothing, I am nothing. You deserve so much more than that, so much more than me. I don't know what will become of my future, but I do know that I will always love you. "

He leaned over slowly and gently kissed her forehead , her cheek and then her lips.

"Goodbye, Sweet Sarah. I shall not become your burden. Please forgive me what I must do."

With a final glance to her sleeping form, he lingered no more and closed the door behind him. At the soft click of the door, Sarah's eyes opened and tears found their way down her cheeks in silent rivers.

The day had come to begin the journey. Sarah dressed with care in a deep, violet gown as her new station dictated. Harriet had fussed over her while she helped Sarah change into her new riding garments. The entire holding had reacted to the change in Harmon and Sarah, the servants were saddened by the turn of emotions, but were keen enough not to ask why. The once optimistic atmosphere was lost and in their place was a dreary routine. Still feeling a fraud, Sarah wore an expressionless countenance. She had not seen Harmon for days since their night together. When she asked the others about him, she knew in their loyalty, none could answer her.

During the day she listened to and studied Albertus' lessons. At night she ate little and cried herself to sleep. Even though she had heard Harmon's words that night, his promise of love, being without him hurt far worse than anything her father had done to her. Harmon was a prince, she knew she was not good enough to consider. She was little more than a servant in courtier's clothing, nothing could change that. The night they shared together had been her final farewell to the `gypsy' life of her past and a welcome to this new life she had studied and practiced. She was thankful that he had shared in the transition of her roles and of her feelings. She had learned to trust a man once more, to give him all of herself, mind, body and soul; only to be tossed aside and scorned yet again. With her training, she could now hide all of her emotions under a serene smile.

The fire was gone.

The wagons were packed and mounted the dapple-gray mare Albertus had purchased for her and waited for the rest to be ready. She saw a covered cage hoisted into the back of one of the wagons and her heart fell, knowing Harmon was within the burlap cocoon. She could hear the familiar tinkling of silver bells as the cage was settled into the wagon. Her heart wrenching in remembrance of the day she tore them off her belt to be added to the falcons jesses. It was common practice to add bells to the tethering straps on a peregrine falcon to keep track of his whereabouts on a hunt. She had handed the bells to Albertus the day before their departure to give to Harmon in memory of their night together. She wanted him to remember that she was with him always. Regardless of his inattention, she loved him. With that small token of her past, of their past, she hoped he would not fail to remember her. She steeled herself now to the sound, shutting off the feelings she felt for him. It hurt so much to let go, yet what else was there for her to do? Finally the master at arms signaled forward and the group began to move down the road, to an uncertain destiny.

The journey took seven days and all were road weary and exhausted as they pulled into the gates of the large stone fortress of the wizard's. A young man greeted the group and bade them entrance to the keep. All dismounted and followed him inside as the sun rose over the horizon. The day of reckoning had come. Sarah was shown to her room and she collapsed onto the bed, her eyes burning, and her stomach in knots. Harmon had remained hidden in the wagon throughout the better part of their journey, only leaving the confines when everyone was asleep.

Well, not everyone. Sarah did not sleep, anxious for just one glimpse of him. She watched as he emerged each night to warm himself by the fire. His features were haggard with stress and uncertainty. He seemed broken in a way and defeated in another. Sarah wanted so much to hold him, to soothe him and reassure him. But she could not. He would run from her back to his wagon and the chasm between them would widen to insurmountable proportions. All she held to her heart was a prayer that the Wizard would take mercy upon him and all would be well.

The summons came at dusk and all gathered in the throne room that was boisterous and brightly lit. There were so many people in attendance, that heir small group felt overwhelmed. They huddled together at the back of the room to await the arrival of the wizard. Within moments horns sounded for the balconies above and a man dressed in scarlet robes ascended the stairs to the throne. He was an imposing figure in the velvet mantles, his figure still broad and tall. His steely gray eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on their small group. He raised his hand and Albertus acknowledged the summons and took Sarah's elbow to lead their group to the front.

"Albertus, do my eyes deceive me? After all these years you are still finding the tenderest morsels to dote upon?" the wizard chuckled.

"No, Sheldrake. May I introduce my niece, Sarah?" Albertus nudged her forward and she effected a deep curtsy to the man before her. She could feel his slate eyes feast upon her and she felt her skin crawl in disgust. The serene smile never left her face.

"Welcome to my Kingdom, dear Sarah. You have indeed brightened up this somber room with your amazing beauty. I do hope you and your Uncle extend your stay beyond the dismal task for which you traveled so far to accomplish."

"We shall see, your majesty, what the morrow shall bring…" she said, softly, her mouth acrid from her words. With that she stepped back beside Albertus to await the summons. It was past dark, Harmon was anticipated at any moment. Sensing her worry, Albertus took her small hand in his and squeezed it gingerly for support. She gifted him a rare smile and nodded. The game had begun. Albertus felt for the two he had brought together. Each so different, yet so much alike! He knew in his heart that everything would work out in the end, but the trek to that moment will be full of fire and ice. He wondered who would give in first.

More horns sounded and all eyes fell to the entrance of the room. There stood Harmon, resplendent in black breeches, black boots and a white shirt. A bored expression was on his face as the royal guards led him down the now empty path to the throne. Albertus whispered to Sarah to drop her eyes to the floor as Harmon passed them. Even though he was their friend, he was still the actual heir to the throne and must have their total deference. There were to be no distractions, only hope and strength.

"Ah, Young Harmon. I am quite pleased you answered my summons so expeditiously." Sheldrake offered by way of greeting the man before him.

"Sheldrake." Harmon intoned, bowing stiffly in respect to the throne his father once ruled from.

The holding seemed so foreign to him now, yet all faces present were familiar. Audible gasps of surprise spread through the crowd at his presence. All were told years before of his death, the very reason Sheldrake arose to power and the throne.

" My judgment will come two days hence. Until then you are to remain, at my request, to celebrate your homecoming. I hope you will be available to attend all events, in one form or another…" Sheldrake let his voice dwindle to a whisper, a smile tugging at his lips.

Albertus felt Sarah's hand grip his in a vise-like hold. Her anger was well founded but with a corresponding nudge, he warned her to remain vigilant, but emotionless.

"Until then, please join us in a dinner and dance in your honor and that of your companions!" Sheldrake announced and with the clap of his hands, long tables were brought forth and laden with food fit for a King.

Albertus and Sarah made their way through the crowd to stand at Harmon's side. Albertus touched Harmon's shoulder to indicate they were there and offered his support with a small smile.

"All is not yet lost." He assured the young man, and Sarah.Harmon looked to Sarah and felt his heart respond to her beauty, his soul yearn to take her into his arms and away from the world around them.

"You look beautiful, Sarah." He said softly, reaching for her hand.

"Only to you, my lord." She replied, trying to quell the emotions threatening to overtake her at his attention. "Two days, it seems like forever."

"I agree. If I may be so bold, may I request your presence at my side during these planned activities? I fear that as a falcon, only you can handle me with confidence and skill."

"And during the evenings?" she queried, an amused eyebrow raised in question.

"I hope to remain by your side to warn away any possible suitors. These people betrayed me once, I will not have them setting their sites on you as well."

"Then it is agreed then, while you two are making merry, I will investigate the wizard. He seems to believe us to be still friends, I shall use that to my advantage." Albertus decreed.

"Do you mind, Sarah?" Harmon asked, warily, uncertain of her answer. "I hope I have not torn asunder our friendship in my reticence of other affairs."

Affairs? Good choice of words, Harmon thought to himself sarcastically, why is it that I can never seem to say the right things when I am around her?

"Though I may lack in some ways as a lady," she said icily, "I shall endeavor to be as charming an escort as possible, my lord. Please remember that above all else, I will always remain your friend and loyal subject."

With that Sarah excused herself to freshen up before the meal. Albertus glanced up at Harmon, the question lingering in his eyes.

"Don't ask, Albertus. I made a mistake that has cost me dearly and I seem unable to convey my sincerest apologies for treating her as I have. I am lost."

"Don't mistake a bruised pride for total annihilation, Harmon. She is hurt, you are confused, that is love." Albertus shrugged his shoulders, "It is only as simple as that."

The next morning the court ventured out for a hunt. Sarah had Harmon on her arm as they rode out with the others. She found herself making excuses for Harmon's absence to some that inquired his whereabouts. She kindly told them he was indisposed to a stomach ailment and decided to remain back at the holding to rest. As she rode on, following the group, she listened with longing at the tinkle of the bells at his jesses, wishing that Harmon and she could be as before. She missed their private moments of the past dreadfully
and felt totally out of her element here amongst the others. But she constantly reminded herself that she was here to help him and she remained in her "character".

As the day progressed many small fowl and foxes had been brought down. Harmon had managed most of the kills himself, reveling in the freedom of flight once again after the stark confines of the wagon from days past. He was also enjoying the time spent with Sarah at his side. Try as he may, he could not ignore the love he felt for her and the trespasses forcing him to keep away emotionally. He longed to have all of this over and done with so she would be free of the situation and danger it imposed. Soon, he reminded himself, soon this will all be but a memory.

Sarah stayed near the back of the group waiting for Harmon to return to her again when Sheldrake pulled his mount next to hers.

"It is a beautiful morning, yet cannot be compared to yours, my dear Sarah."

"I thank you for the compliment, my lord. But shouldn't you be up near the front with the others? I am only Albertus' niece and you have many lords and knights awaiting your attention." She countered with a slight dip of her head.

"Preposterous! Why would I want to be with the men, whom I see on a daily basis, when I could have the company of a very desirable woman?" He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "A very desirable woman, such as yourself."

Fluttering her hand toward him she responded in a hushed tone. "My Lord, though you flatter, I should warn you that such attention is surely lost on me."

Sheldrake did not take her words to heed as Harmon made his way back to her glove. He spied Sheldrake leaning into her direction, bent on a purpose that set fire to Harmon's temper. Unbeknownst to Sheldrake, who had just attempted to slip an arm around Sarah's waist, Harmon began a dive for the man's head, talons extended. Sarah instantly moved her mount forward as Sheldrake touched her and was amazed at the audacity of the man. Harmon landed on the wizard's back, knowing he could not physically impale the man as was his wont, he gripped the hood of the wizard's mantle and forced it over the man's head. Sarah took that moment to extend out both arms against Sheldrake's chest and push him from his mount. The man was screaming bloody murder as he fell to the ground!

Sarah extended her arm for Harmon to land, calling forward to the others. "Help! His majesty has fallen!"

Within seconds men who tried to help the struggling wizard to his feet surrounded them. Sarah hid her smile under gloved hand and Harmon calmly cleaned his feathers. When he had gained his footing, the wizard lashed out at Sarah causing Harmon to flap his wings and cry out in warning. Sarah looked down upon the wizard from her mount with a serene smile. Sheldrake glowered at her then turned his attention to the falcon on her arm.

"This does not bode well for your situation. I hope you will endeavor not to have this happen again." Sheldrake's tone was lethal as he mounted his steed. "And you, Sarah. Do not think this is over yet. Remember that I am the King and if it is you that I want. It is you that I shall get."

And with that he rode away to the front of the group.

"Well, that went well." Sarah sighed, rubbing the falcon's white-feathered breast soothingly.

Sarah and Harmon met up with Albertus at the luncheon that afternoon. They gathered food at the buffet and excused themselves to Albertus' room to speak on the happenings of the day. Sarah related what had transpired early that morning with Harmon flapping his wings and calling out angrily as if to punctuate each statement made with his agitation.

"That certainly answers why Sheldrake was in a foul mood when I tried to speak with him upon his return to the keep from the hunt." Albertus chuckled.

He glanced over his shoulder at Harmon on his perch, "You, my temperamental friend, need to keep a check on your outbursts or you will have us even further at odds with the man!"

He turned back to Sarah and patted her hand sympathetically, "I worried that this might occur, Sarah. But I knew you would be able to handle the situation if it came to that. Well done, my dear."

Sarah smiled at him proudly and glanced over to the falcon, "I had help, my lord."

"Do not take his warning lightly. I believe he means just as he says. You will have to be very vigilant."

"I will be on my guard, my lord." She promised.

Sarah was on her way down the hall from Albertus' room when she was seized from behind, her frightened yelp muffled by a large hand. She was pulled back into a dark hallway off the main staircase. She knew it was Sheldrake as soon as she heard the robes rustle across the rushes on the stone floor. She let him take her further, saving her strength until they reached their destination. When they stopped at the end of the hallway, she began to struggle against him in earnest, kicking with her feet and scratching at his hands. She was finally able to get her teeth into the man's hand, biting down with all of her might until she could taste the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth.

"You bitch!!" Sheldrake growled, striking her against the head with the iron ring of keys in his other hand.

She was dazed by the blow, but kept to her task. Unfortunately, he kept with his hitting her over and over, the clanging of the keys providing an eerie rhythm to each blow. When she finally collapsed at his feet, he drug her through an iron cell door and into a small room, locking the door behind him. As the lock clicked into place he grunted in frustration and pain as he surveyed the damage to his hand. As he wrapped a piece of fabric he had torn from his robes about the injury, Sarah regained consciousness.

" You taste of chicken." She called to him, "Is that a clue to you nature? How ironic."

"You ungrateful Bitch!" He sneered angrily at her. "Do you not know that any attention from the King is an honor?"

"I am sure it would be, if it was indeed from the true King." She retorted, fixing his stare with hers.

"You will pay for that remark, my dear. You will pay dearly." He warned in a low tone, then disappeared from the small barred window of the door, leaving her alone.

"Harmon…" she cried softly, collapsing to her knees, covering her face in her hands.

Guards broke down the door to Albertus' rooms, startling him and Harmon. The three entered, tearing around the room throwing obstacles out of their way as they headed toward Harmon on his perch.

"Go, my friend! Fly!" yelled Albertus as one of the guards grabbed his arms from behind.

Harmon took flight but one of the guards deftly captured the leather jesses tethered to his ankles as the other guard threw a blanket over the struggling falcon.

"What are you doing?!" Yelled Albertus as the first guard let him go to help the others with the falcon.

"King's orders, my lord. All falcons are restricted to the aviary." The guard told him, gruffly as he struggled with the bird.

He gave a shrill whistle and yet another guard entered with a small iron cage. The door was opened and Harmon was unceremoniously shoved in, the door closing behind him An iron padlock sealed his fate.

"Now see here, young man, this is not necessary. My falcon was hurting no one!" Albertus cried as they began to take their leave.

"Just following the King's orders." He was reminded as they walked through the doorway.

Albertus searched frantically about the halls looking for Sarah. He was worried that he could not find her in her rooms and that no one seemed to know where she was. He stopped at the main staircase to steady his thoughts when he heard a faraway scream.

"Hello?!" he called, "Who is there?!"

"Albertus!!!" Sarah screamed again, thankful someone had answered her. She felt like she had been screaming at the top of her lungs for hours.

"Sarah! Keep calling! I shall follow your voice to find you!" Albertus bellowed, his hands cupped around his mouth. He felt his way along the dimly lit staircase and found a small hallway. He could hear Sarah calling to him, the sound stronger now as he stood by the opening. He ran in the direction of her voice, knowing that time was short before the sun went down.

He found the iron door at the end of the dark hallway and saw Sarah peering through the small barred window.

"Albertus! I am locked in here!" she called to him, desperately.

"There is more to it than this, I fear." Albertus told her s he stood in front of the door, searching his robes for something to unlock the door with. "They have Harmon! They forced their way into my room and locked him in an iron cage and took him to the aviary."

"It is almost sundown. He won't be able to survive changing form locked in an iron cage!"

"Yes, I know. We must get you out of here. Do you know anything about locks?"

Sarah thrust her arm through the small opening, grabbing the fabric of his cloak at his neck.

"Give me your dagger! Now!" she ordered.

He unsheathed the dagger at his waist and placed it in her hand. Within seconds he heard scraping of metal against iron and the door flew open. Sarah grabbed his hand as they ran down the hallway.

"Which way to the aviary? Do you know?" she asked, breathlessly, as they ran.

"Yes. Follow me!" he cried as he took the lead, now dragging her. "We haven't much time!"

In her heart she said a small prayer for Harmon, sending her love and strength to him to keep him safe.

They found the aviary as the sun was even with the horizon. The squawks and rustling of birds were ignored as they searched for Harmon. They finally found him in the back on the floor.

"Harmon!" she cried, dropping to her knees before the cage. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here!" she pledged to him as she began to force the tip of the dagger into the rusty padlock.

"Sarah, we have no time left!" Albertus called from his perch in front of one of the windows. His heart fell with the sun as it began to dip below the horizon.

"I'm trying!" she grunted through gritted teeth, feeling her way with the dagger's tip into the mechanisms of the lock. "This lock is rusted and old!"

Sweat gathered at her brow and the knife slipped, slicing her hand. She jerked back in pain a moment and glanced again at Harmon. He was staring steadily at her, almost as if he was willing her the same love and strength as she had him moments before.

"I can do this." She whispered to herself, ignoring the blood dripping from her hand. "I will not fail you, my love."

"Sarah! Hurry!" Albertus screamed again as the last part of the sun disappeared below the horizon.

Harm stopped and closed the book.

"Are you out of you mind?" Mac demanded, sitting up, "You can't quit there!"

Harm stretched lazily, his back stiff from sitting in one position too long.

"Mac, it's time to get some dinner, OK? I'm starving." His voice was teasingly pleading, " I promise, I'll finish the story after we eat."

"I'll hold the book for you while you order the pizza, OK?" she offered, holding out her hand expectantly.

Harm chuckled, taking her hand into his own, kissing her palm. "Nice try, Mac. Generous offer, but this is my story to read to you." Standing, he took the book with him as he walked over to the kitchen to call the pizza place. Mac, sighed loudly and crossed her arms across her chest, a scowl on her face.

"Well, this is a first. A Marine throwing a temper tantrum." Harm remarked as he was on hold, " For the record, counselor, it is definitely not a pretty sight." He teased.

He was rewarded with her growl of frustration …….and then she stuck her tongue out at him!

Mac waited impatiently for Harm to return to the couch after watching him finish the dishes and put them away. Finally, he picked up the book from the kitchen island and made his way to the living room.

"Are you ready for the rest of your story?" he asked with a broad smile.

"Yes!" She smiled back at him, moving aside to leave him room to sit next to her. Chuckling softly, her took the proffered space and settled in patting the pillow in his lap for her to settle as well. Once they were both comfortable, he opened the book and began again…

"I can do this." She whispered to herself, ignoring the blood dripping from her hand. "I will not fail you, my love."

"Sarah! Hurry!" Albertus screamed again as the last part of the sun disappeared below the horizon.

At that moment, the lock broke free and the falcon burst through the opening. A bright light filled the room, blinding all within and Sarah fell back, her head slamming against the stone floor. She lay there trying to catch her breath waiting for the pain in her head to ebb away, hoping Harmon got out in time. A warm hand grasped hers and she turned her face toward that direction. Harmon's smile was that of relief and appreciation to her. She pulled his hand toward her forehead, clasped in both of hers, and let it rest against her sweaty brow.

"Thank you, God. Thank you." She prayed in a whisper, still panting from exertion.

Albertus collapsed on the table he had stood upon, in his own relief. He looked to the two on the floor and smiled.

When Harmon's hand left hers and she sat up from the floor, she glowered over at Albertus.

"I have a question to ask of you, Albertus." She said, sternly, surprising the elder man.

"What question is that, Sarah?" he asked, confused at her odd statement.

"Are you not a powerful wizard?" she asked, her arms folded across her chest.

"I thought we established this long ago. Yes, Sarah, I am a powerful wizard." Albertus defended, with a hard sigh.

"Then why did you not just make the cage disappear? I know you cannot help Harmon with the curse, but you can make things disappear, can't you?"

"I have made many things disappear!" Albertus cried in frustration, then stopped when the full message of her question digested in his mind, " I did not think to use my abilities to help him this time." He said in a small voice, feeling a bit guilty.

"I am sorry, Harmon. I did not think." Albertus apologized to the young man on the floor.

"There's no need to apologize, Albertus." Harmon assured him as he tried to rise to his feet.

Unfortunately he was hindered somewhat as his foot was still caught in the small cage. The opening was too small to allow for the large size of his foot. With an amused laugh he gained Albertus' attention once again.

"Do you mind?" Harmon asked the wizard, pointing at the cage.

"It would be my pleasure." Albertus remarked and with a flick of his wrist, the cage disappeared. With a gloating look of `See? I told you I could do it.' to Sarah, Albertus smiled with renewed pride.

"Now what do we do?" Harmon asked the two glaring at each other.

Harmon settled Sarah down onto a blanket he had spread before the glowing fire of the hearth in her room. He poured some water in a basin and knelt before her, dunking and wringing out a small rag in his hands. With a gentle touch, he used his fingers to brush away her hair from the dried blood at her temple. With each slight pressure against the large welt Sheldrake had given her, she flinched, yet tried to hide her weakness.

"Sarah, what did they do to you?" he asked her, softly, trying to keep his anger from overriding his concern as he applied the warm, damp compress to her temple.

"It was nothing, my lord. I have been able to withstand much worse treatment in the past." She said, tonelessly, refusing herself to be affected by his concern and tender touch. She tore a piece of fabric from her skirt and wrapped it around her injured hand keeping her eyes lowered to the task.

"Did Sheldrake do this to you?" he asked, his anger getting the best of him, despite his inward struggle.

Sarah only stared into the fire, she could not answer him, her shame was too strong…how could she have been so stupid?

Harmon gripped her shoulders with his hands, shaking her as he repeated his question, the vehemence dripping from his lips, the horror that he could not protect her washing over him like a cascade of ice. He knew why she would not respond to him, he helped construct the walls that now stood between them. Only his purpose was to protect her from his fate, her purpose was to protect herself from him.

"Did Sheldrake physically strike you?!" he roared, his frustration at its limit, cresting over him at the obvious pain in her eyes as they met with his.

"Is it any different from what you are doing to me now, my lord?" she inquired, slowly, through gritted teeth.

She pushed against his restraining hands, heady with the strength of her fury. She stood abruptly and began to pace, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, her cheeks flushed, her eyes blazing. She whirled around to face him, capturing his eyes with the fire in the depths of her own.

"I can take physical pain at the hands of men, my lord, my Father taught me well. I grew to learn that one should never trust a man and to never make the same mistake twice. Again, I say, my father taught me well." Her voice was low, almost a harsh whisper, " But what I didn't know was how to take tenderness, kindness or, dare I say, love from a man. Until you, my lord. You were my guide into that realm of emotion and I must say, the journey proved to be short-lived, yet very informative. To tell you the truth, your lesson was far more painful than any of the others, but at least the scars are easier to hide!"

Tears burned in her eyes as she finally turned away from him, her fist closed across her lips to keep the sobs at bay. She made her way, stumbling, to the opposite side of the room.

Sarah's words pierced through his heart cutting clear to his soul. Harmon sank to the floor and stared dismally into the fire. The heat of the flames no longer warmed his body as he was now chilled from the desolation he had caused in both his heart…and hers.

Albertus stood inn the background to observe the two, so obviously in love, and his heart cried out for them. He wanted so much to point out the obvious, but knew this was something he could not intervene in, they had to work it out with each other.

Harmon stood and walked to where Sarah stood staring blankly out the window into the darkness of the night.

"I do not know what more can be said to undo the pain I have caused you or what can be done about this blasted curse upon me. Albertus and I could find nothing in our years of research about Sheldrake and the nature of his power over my destiny. What can be more powerful that hate and spite to solve this infinite riddle?" He asked, pleadingly, standing only inches from her, yet afraid to touch or reassure her.

"Love." Was her simple reply and she glanced up to look into his weary expression, "And faith… and trust. These three simple things should be the only answer to your question." Her voice was a soft caress.

Sarah reached out to him and with only a few tentative steps, he had her captured tightly against him, surrounding her with his arms.

"I am so sorry! You are my every breath, my every heartbeat, my entire being and I could not ever survive another moment without telling you so. If I only have but the moments so few that we have had together, I go to my fate a happy man with the knowledge that I have told you what is in my heart. I love you, Sarah. I have from the beginning, yet I chose to try and hold you from me to protect you."

His voice was emphatic, his words touching her very soul.

Sarah blinked back her tears and smiled up at him, "Harmon, you have to believe in your heart that all will come right. If we cannot place out trust in love and faith then all is for naught and not worth fighting for. Tomorrow I shall stand by your side because I have faith in you, in who you are and my trust in you above all others with my life…because you have my love."

Harmon held Sarah in his arms all that night. Memorizing each breath she took, the smell of her hair, the feel of her in his arms. Nothing could ever take away the words he had spoken to her that night. His heart was now hers, forever, come what may. Albertus stood guard, seated by the door, silently to offer some security and peace. During the daylight hours, Sarah and Albertus kept their guard by the door waiting for someone, anyone, to search them out. But no one did. It was a mystery, but both were relieved that they had spent one more day in relative peace, with no surprises. By the time the sun went down, they were no further along in finding a solution than the night before. A knock at the door interrupted them and the men hid behind the door as Sarah opened it.

"Your presence is requested by His Majesty." A guard informed her. "And also that of Albertus and Harmon." Sarah nodded in response and told him that they would be down shortly.

The day of reckoning had come. And there was still no plan. Sheldrake held the trump card, Harmon's life was still in his hands.

The three entered the main hall together, side by side. Harmon stood in the middle, his trusted friends on both sides. They made their way through the break in the crowd, stopping in front of the throne where Sheldrake sat. It pained Harmon to see the man in his father's place. And he silently prayed that the man's retribution would be upon him alone and swift.

"The time has come for your judgment, Harmon." Sheldrake informed him in a monotone voice. "Are you prepared to accept my decree?"

Harmon merely nodded and began to kneel for his fate.

"NO!!" Sarah yelled, startling those in the room with the fervor of her outrage.

"Sarah, please." Harmon grasped her shoulders to turn her to face him. "What's done is done. I cannot but accept my fate."

"'"No, I won't let you!" She cried, pulling herself away from him. She turned to those present that just stared at them, confusion etched on their faces. "Good people! Hear me!" she cried in desperation.

"Do you know what this man has been through? Do you know the pain?" She pointed at Sheldrake. " This man took your rightful King away in his own spite and grief. Took away Harmon's life because of his own son's death! But Harmon's father died as well. On the battlefield. Fighting to save his people and others during the crusades. He did his sworn duty for you, all of you. As a King, you and your families were his responsibility, a responsibility that he did not take lightly. Not only did he take his son with him to learn how to become a fair ruler of men and a warrior bent to protect his people, but he took Luke, Sheldrake's son, as well. He wanted to teach them how to defend this holding they loved so dearly, to protect their families and friends. All of you stand here today because of their sacrifice. You should be proud and honor those that protected your families and way of life. You would not be here today if it was not for them!"

Sarah turned to face Sheldrake " And you, you should be proud of your son! He died in battle to save the King, whose throne you sat on while the wars were going on all around you. You, who honored your son's courage by cursing the best friend Luke had because he, in turn, had the respect to come to you personally to tell you about the loss of your son. In so doing you stripped him of his legacy and damned him to a life of hell while you sat there on the same throne that Harmon's father entrusted to you in his absence. Entrusted you to hand over to his only son and heir."

"Cease your prattling, wench!" Sheldrake demanded, his face full of fury. He rose from his throne and the room became still as all eyes were upon him. Sheldrake glanced to each of the members of what was his court, recognizing the seething anger of betrayal dawned on each face. Their trust in him obviously broken, their pity for him gone.

Slowly Sheldrake raised his hands to his head, grasping the crown upon his brow. With a mighty roar of anger, he removed it and flung it out at the accusing eyes before him. Then, reaching back, he grasped the hood of his mantle and drew it up over his head and leaving it to cover his face as the chanting began. First his monotone voice then a chorus, just as before. A windstorm filled the main hall, extinguishing all light from the candles above and around the room, save the slivery glow from Sheldrake's eyes as the chanting grew in volume.

Sarah grasped Harmon's hand in hers and pressed closer to him in both fear and solidarity.

Slowly Sheldrake raised his hands to his head, grasping the crown upon his brow. With a mighty roar of anger, he removed it and flung it out at the accusing eyes before him. Then, reaching back, he grasped the hood of his mantle and drew it up over his head and leaving it to cover his face as the chanting began. First his monotone voice then a chorus, just as before. A windstorm filled the main hall, extinguishing all light from the candles above and around the room, save the slivery glow from Sheldrake's eyes as the chanting grew in volume.

Sarah grasped Harmon's hand in hers and pressed closer to him in both fear and solidarity.

Sarah felt his body tense as the winds in the room became more forceful, whipping objects around the room like small tornadoes. Screams of the courtiers caught in the maelstrom intermingled with the monotone chanting that filled the air. Flashes of lightening illuminated the strange scene, silhouetting Sheldrake's form as the chanting ever increased with the rising of his hands.

"Sarah, go to Albertus." Harmon raised her hand to his lips; his eyes met hers in a steely gaze. "I Love you, always remember that, no matter what happens."

"I can't let go, Harmon." Sarah argued, reaching for him again. "I will not lose you! I love you!" she screamed.

He again captured both of her hands in his own and kissed each palm, his gaze never leaving hers. Albertus appeared behind her, his arms pulling her away, enfolding her into the protective folds of his mantle.

"Keep her safe, Albertus. And yourself as well, my friend." Harmon told Albertus' retreating form before he turned to face his fate.

"Are you ready?!" Sheldrake challenged Harmon, sparks flying from his fingertips as he bade him forward with a crook of a finger.

The silvery gleam of Sheldrake's gaze met with the clear depths of aquamarine laced with steel and a smile that slashed through the angry set of Harmon's features.

"I have been ready." Harmon bit out through the gritted teeth of his broad smile. He stripped himself of his leather tunic, leaving him clothed only in a pair of black leather breeches and black suede boots.

"What is he doing?" Sarah asked Albertus in a stage whisper to be heard above the wind.

"Brilliantly done, Harmon," Albertus muttered under his breath with a smile as he watched the young man flex his muscular arms and chest.

Sarah finally managed to peek out through the heavy fabric. The scenery before her, though not unfamiliar, still took her breath away. Harmon's body sang with its perfection, though his handsome face was hardened with fury and challenge, but his beautiful smile was in place, his eyes flashing.

"He's taunting Sheldrake with his perfection." Sarah muttered, with a smile of pride.

"Well, I wouldn't say perfection, my dear." Albertus muttered in a huff," I would just say it is his youthful exuberance."

"'Albertus, even you are jealous." Sarah stared up at him incredulously," I'm sure in your youth you were a man to be reckoned with. " She tried to placate him.

Harmon's scream took their attention and they found him being lifted into the air by an unseen force. He screamed as if he was being ripped apart, his arms akimbo, the muscles of his body tense and flexed against the force around him. Sarah's first reaction was to bolt from Albertus' arms, but he held fast to her, trying to calm her as she fought for escape to get to Harmon.

Sheldrake's enthusiasm was unharnassed at this point, his features became more angular, his teeth growing, sharpening and slicing at his mouth mixing saliva with blood as his power overtook his whole being. With a turn of one hand, Harmon's body turned one way and the force exerted on his body forced yet another scream. With a turn of Sheldrake's other hand, the force was cut off, leaving Harmon's panting for breath.

"Sheldrake's toying with him! It's not fair!" Sarah cried, still fighting for freedom.

"Harmon knew that he would get a reaction from Sheldrake when he blatantly showed off his youth and strength." Albertus explained, "With that display, he reminded Sheldrake of his youth and vigor, long lost from Sheldrake. And he also has reminded Sheldrake of his son, Luke. Indirectly, of course, but it has effected the man all the same. Sheldrake is losing control over his power. You struck your blow earlier when you turned the power of the court against him. He no longer has the support of those around him, forcing him to be reliant upon the powers within him. We are now just waiting for him to …well, waiting for him to do something we can capitalize on."

Harmon's screams became more tortured as he began to stretch at all angles, his skin looking as if it was being pulled from all directions at once.

Sarah hid her face against Albertus' chest, willing for this to be over soon, Harmon's screams were not only tearing him apart (literally) but her as well.

Sheldrake clapped his hands together once and held them above his head. Then with a growl he threw his head back and ripped his clasped hands apart. With a flash of light and a rumbling of thunder, Harmon was torn asunder into two forms – himself and the peregrine falcon. The falcon practically burst from his chest then was caught up in the same force holding Harmon captive.

Sheldrake laughed, eerily, as he watched Harmon and the falcon face one another for the first time.

"I suspect it's quite a shock to meet your alter ego face to face, Harmon! I have given you the chance of a lifetime! I shall, of course, wait patiently for your appreciation."

Harmon look at the falcon and felt his heart go out to it as one's heart would a friend. But they shared the same mind, still, and each agreed upon a plan of attack. Sheldrake had removed the curse to break them apart. In his ignorance he had given them the chance they needed!

Albertus caught the look from Harmon and removed his mantle, engulfing Sarah in it entirely. Out of one pocket he withdrew the thick leather glove she had worn for the peregrine falcon to perch on. Once he handed this to her, he had relayed her position in the plan without uttering one syllable. She merely smiled and settled against the wall to wait for her cue.

Albertus took to a tabletop and began his own chants gesturing in Sheldrake's direction. Sheldrake turned his attention to the other wizard, arrogantly believing he could handle more than one situation.

"What are you trying to accomplish, you doddering old fool?" Sheldrake called to Albertus, angrily, his hands dropping long enough to release Harmon and the falcon.

The falcon took flight and landed on Sarah's outstretched arm. Cooing oftly to the bird, Sarah gently brushed its white-feathered breast with her fingertips. She could feel the sinewy muscles beneath the feathers tense in anticipation so she kept rapt attention on Harmon, waiting with the falcon, his next move.

Harmon hit the floor and was assisted to his feet by the members of the court still present, each trying to press a weapon of some sort into his hands; a knife, a pistol, a mirror….a mirror! Harmon didn't know who had handed the mirror to him, but he silently thanked them as he made his way back to the throne.

"Sheldrake! Once you were an honorable man. A man my father trusted above all others. Your son loved and looked up to you, respecting you and aspiring to become a man such as you. Would they be able to see you now, think you they would keep the same opinions?!" He thrust the mirror into Sheldrake's face.

The image that greeted Sheldrake was one of pure evil incarnate. The dark power he harbored over the good after his son's death had finally taken over entirely, leaving him a vision of the hell he had surrendered himself to upon his cursing of Harmon many years ago. With a strangled cry, he grabbed the mirror out of Harmon's hand and threw it to the floor, shattering it, pieces strewn across the stones.

The Peregrine Falcon on her arm began to knead the leather of her glove with its talons as if awaiting its own call to duty. Its eyes were centered on the dark wizard, who was now screaming and ripping at his hair and clothing. The falcon was merely biding its time, it seemed, and it had Sarah's full attention. She had gazed on this same bird when it was Harmon and yet it was now ever so much different. The eyes were wise and their strength in their fathom-less depths. She did not know this falcon, yet it knew them all and most especially Sheldrake.

With a loud screech the falcon took flight from its perch on her arm. Harmon grasped the wizard from behind and held him in place to meet his own fate. Sheldrake watched as the falcon neared him feeling his life ebb away. With a slow deliberate sigh, he raised his chin to give a clear target to the approaching falcon. With a flurry of feathers and a gurgling cry of alarm, the falcon's deed was done and the wizard collapsed back into Harmon's arms, dead.

Then there was silence as the room stilled, freed, from the spells cast from before. Guards stepped forward and took the body to carry it as Harmon bade them, to the pyre behind the stables. The courtiers were both surprised and pleased that Harmon was still going to respect the man that had led them these past 10 years and allow him a respectable cremation. One by one, they knelt before him and pledged their fealty to the true King. Once one and all exited the hall, the three remaining collapsed into the empty chairs in their exhaustion, yet allowing for their shouts and laughter of triumph!

Harmon took to his feet and soon had Sarah in his arms, twirling her about the room. Albertus watched the two with a certain amount of satisfaction on his face.

Yes, he had chosen very well, for just this exact moment.

"Well, my lord. I guess it is back to the holding for Albertus and myself while you rebuild the Kingdom your father left you." She smiled at Harmon; her hands clasped behind his neck, standing on her tiptoes to evenly meet his eyes.

"No Kingdom is worthy without its Queen, my Sweet Sarah." Harmon murmured "Queen Sarah." against her lips then capturing them for a searing, hot kiss.

"And if I accept the position, where will that leave Albertus? I am to replace you as his assistant. Remember?" she asked softly, trying to catch the breath his kiss had taken from her.

"Albertus will still need an assistant. And yes, you will do so if that is your wont." Harmon told her, puzzled by her confusion.

"Yes, but he lives far away at another holding. Serving as an advisor to another King there, does he not? With Robert and Harriet?"

Albertus bowed low before her "Regardless of where I am, I am His Majesty's trusted wizard and counselor. We have all lived in exile awaiting this day. Robert and Harriet will soon receive word to come back here, to our home. "

Our home, Sarah thought to herself as she lost herself in the love and embrace of the man of her dreams.

And they all lived happily ever after…..

"The End" Harm closed the book and smiled down at Mac. " So did you like it? Or was it corny?" he asked, his face still smiling, yet his eyes expectant of her answer.

"It was truly amazing, Harm! I had no idea how incredibly romantic and funny and all those things and more all in one story!"

"Well, I have to be inspired, you know. I have to have a muse." He lifted up his legs by placing his feet on the coffee table, thus raising her neck to meet with his lips. "And I have a very beautiful muse, her name is Sarah."

"Oh really?" Mac asked with a giggle , ticklish from his warm breath and tender nips at her skin, "What does she look like? Blonde, bosomed and blue-eyed?"

"Cinnamon and sexy with bedroom eyes that make me crazy." He replied, now capturing a soft earlobe between his teeth. " So can I tuck you in now….. Sweet Sarah?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

"Please." Was all she said and within a spilt second she was up in his arms as he carried her to his bed, his lips never leaving her skin.

Two hours later.....

She peeked up at his face as she lay nestled in his arms. Their bodies still intertwined from their lovemaking. She didn't want to move, but the curiosity was killing her. She found him still asleep, a smile on his lips and she made her move from him reluctantly. He whimpered as she slid down out of his arms and replaced her form with a pillow. He grabbed onto it and cradled it against him, rubbing his cheek against it slowly. Guilt swept over her as she watched him. But she had to know.

She picked up his shirt and drew it over her as she crept out of the room on tiptoe. She collapsed onto the couch and turned on the lamp. She found the book on the coffee table and ran her hand over the
leather cover.

Ever since he had started this story, she wondered if he had hand written it in this journal. Just the idea of seeing all those wonderful words in his handwriting…all the little crossed out mistakes, all the little changes and arrows of editing that she relied upon in his reports were surely in this journal as well. And as appealing as she found his longhand organization as compared to using the computer for his reports at work, the idea that he had actually sat down and written such a wonderful fairy tale just for her was simply the most romantic gesture she could ever fathom,..well, except the fact that he actually read it aloud to her.

With a deep breath, she opened the book. She turned the first page, then the next. She gathered some pages between her fingers and flipped through them quickly. Each page was blank.

"I promise to have it written out by the time our daughter is old enough for bedtime stories." His voice startled her. She glanced up and found him leaning against the kitchen table, clad in a pair of boxers and his flyboy grin.

"You simply amaze me, Commander. Do you honestly think you'll remember all of it when the time comes?" she asked, now embarrassed after being caught "peeking".

"I'm sure you will remind me of anything I might forget. In the meantime, I would like to discuss the particulars of the art of tucking you in…."

She closed the book and set it on the coffee table. He turned off the lamp and gathered her in his arms once again, his lips finding hers in the dark.

And they lived happily ever after.