O.k., this is actually my SECOND attempt at ROAR fic. My first
was a different version of this story that didn't end up too good, so
I rewrote it. I hope you like this one.
     The characters from the show (Conor, Fergus, Caitlin, Tully,
Molly, etc.) belong to Shaun Cassidy, Ron Koslow, Sea Change Produc-
tions, and Universal Studios, respectively. I do not own them, though
I wish I did, and there is no copyright infringement intended in my
use of them. Catriona, Dugal, Alastair, Maeve, Galen, Mhorag, Skye,
etc. belong to me and no one else. Conell and Elspeth are also mine.
     My story doesn't have any sex in it, or profanity, or anything
else that would offend you, except maybe Conor with someone other than
Caitlin (I know you Conor/Caitlin people are out there), or a Tully/
Caitlin romance.

"Catriona" by Claire Phelps [G]

Ireland, ca AD 400
     "I don't know, Fergus. Before the Father died, I was eager to
marry Molly. But now, something's holding me back, telling me to
wait," Conor said, reining in his horse so that the older man could
catch up. His horse protested.
     "I don't quite-"
     "Get your hands off me, you Roman scum!"
     Conor and Fergus looked at each other, then spurred their horses.
Cresting the hill, they found a petite red-haired woman fighting off
a lone Roman soldier. A few feet away, a large man lay crumpled and
bleeding. He half-covered a wailing infant.
     "I'll get the man and the babe. You're better at rescuing
women," Fergus said.
     The soldier looked up to see Conor riding towards him, broad-
sword raised. He panicked and released the woman, who stumbled and
fell to the ground, braced by her outstretched arms. The soldier
tripped and nearly fell, then recovered and ran away.
     Conor stopped his horse and dismounted. He helped the woman up,
then realised that she was actually quite young, no older than 17.
She had large, sky-blue eyes and a very light smattering of freckles
over her straight nose. "Are you all right, lass?" he asked, trying
to keep himself from staring.
     "Aye. Thank you. That Roman dog surprised me and my brother
while we were travelling. He had it in mind to rape me." She pushed
disheveled curls out of her face and looked up at him. "I'm Catriona,
of the clan O' Doniall." She had a soft, lilting voice that immediately
entranced Conor.
     "And I'm Conor, of the Confederation, Prince of Eire," Conor said,
remembering himself suddenly.
     She looked surprised. "Dugal and I were coming to join you. Our
family, everyone but our nephew Alastair, was killed recently by
Romans. Most of our clan was wiped out, but there are still some along
the Northwest coast of Donegal."
     Conor nodded. "We'll be happy to have you with us. It's actually
not much farther, so you may ride with your nephew. I'll walk."
     "I will, too," Fergus said, leading his horse over to where the
others stood. Dugal was laying face-down over the saddle. The bald
warrior held Alastair in his arms. "Here's your nephew."
     But Catriona didn't take him. She instead went over to her
brother. After a brief examination, she closed her eyes and laid a
hand over the sword-thrust wound. Conor and Fergus came closer to see
what she was doing. When she took her hand away, the wound was gone.
     "How did you . . . ?"
     "Questions later, please. The Romans come," she said, and climbed
onto Conor's horse.
			*	*	*
     "So the wedding to Molly is still on?" Caitlin asked, crouching
next to Tully, across the fire from Fergus and Conor.
     "Aye," Fergus said. "Though I can't say I'm too happy about it."
     "She's your daughter," Tully said. "You should be happy you know
who she's marrying."
     "Hey, I raised him almost like me own son," Fergus said.
     Conor ignored this. "The Druids come in a month's time with
Molly," he said solemnly. They said they need that time to make sure
they have the Father's blessing on this."
     "But the Father's dead," Caitlin said.
     "Molly said that they can still get confirmation from him," Conor
said. He chewed thoughtfully on a hunk of bread for a long moment
before saying, "The Romans have struck yet again. We came across a
young woman being attacked by a soldier today, on the way back from
Cabbod. Her brother was stabbed."
     "So that's who you came into camp with," Tully said. "Who is she?"
     "Tully!" Caitlin poked him in the side. They exchanged mysterious
glances and Conor wondered, not for the first time, what went between
them.
     "Her name is Catriona, and she's a healer," he said. "Of the clan
O' Doniall. She's from up in Donegal, where her clan lands remain,
though her family was killed by Romans last month."
     "Oh." Caitlin stared into the fire. "I wouldn't advise getting
too close, Conor. You're getting married in a month's time."
     Conor didn't seem to hear her.
			*	*	*
Two months later
     Catriona's head shot up at the sound of Conor's voice. Her heart
quickened when he came into sight. But there was a young woman, with
very dark auburn hair and white robes with him, and six Druids. He
looked pensive. Catriona frowned. Very slowly, she began backing to
her hut.
     Conor stopped by the central fire. He waited until everyone had
come to listen, then shouted, "Everyone, these are the Druids and the
novice, Molly. You may know Molly as Fergus' daughter. She is to
be the village Druid, and my wife. We will marry in a week."
     Catriona's heart clenched with hurt and jealousy. In that
moment, she realised something devastating: She was in love with Conor.
     Conor glanced over to where Catriona stood, pale and stricken.
As he watched, she burst into tears and ducked inside her hut.
     Molly, too, saw Catriona and her eyes narrowed slightly.
			*	*	*
A week later
     Catriona stuck her head in the door to Conor's "cave". "Conor?"
     He looked up, surprised. "Caiti. What is it?"
     "Can I talk to you?" she asked, stepping inside.
     "Aye."
     She came closer, and he noticed that she wore a blue wool gown
that stopped just short of the floor, in a style that bared her
shoulders. Her red hair was loose and fell in disorganised curls to
just below her waist. "Look, I know this is the eve of your wedding,
and I'm probably going to make things more difficult for you, but-
I don't want you to marry Molly, Conor."
     "Why not?" He turned to look out the window. "Is she bad for
me? It's only symbollic, you know."
     Catriona walked over and grabbed his arm, turning him to face
her. As she looked up into his handsome face, she began to cry. "Conor,
please listen to me!"
     The sight of her tears wrenched his heart. "Caiti . . . "
     "I understand that you must marry Molly, but I need to- I couldn't
live here, in the village, with this inside me, watching you with her."
     "Why don't you leave, then?" Conor asked, the words almost choking
him.
     "Don't you see, Conor? I love you! I want to spend the rest of
my life with you, to bear your children. But I know that for the next
two years, you must be with Molly. And I love you enough to know
when I should let you go." Catriona brushed away tears that trickled
down her cheeks. "I'll be leaving in the morning. I don't think I
could see you wed another. It would probably kill me."
     She began to turn away but Conor caught her before she could.
He pulled her into his arms. "Oh, Caiti! If I could marry you
tomorrow, instead of Molly, I would. But the Father wanted this."
Cupping her face in his hands, he whispered, "I hate to see you go,
but I understand. Caiti, will you stay with me tonight?"
     She could only nod.
			*	*	*
     "Where is my sister?" Dugal kicked open the door to Conor's
room and walked in. His hulking frame filled the doorway.
     Conor looked up from his conversation with Fergus. He'd just
finished dressing. "What do you mean?"
     "Catriona's *gone*!" Dugal nearly shouted. "Her things aren't
in her cottage, and her horse is missing. Do you know where she went?"
     Conor shook his blonde head, though he'd known for several hours
that she'd gone. He'd pretended to be asleep just before dawn, when
Catriona had slipped out of his bed and had whispered her good-byes.
He'd lain there for an hour after that, half wishing he'd never met
her, and the other half wishing he could make her rightfully his.
     "No, I don't. I talked to her last night, and she said that she
was happy about the wedding, but didn't think she'd be coming. I
didn't think she'd be *leaving*." O.k., so it was a half-truth. He
*had* talked to her, and she *had* said she didn't think she'd be
able to come, but as for her being happy about the wedding . . .
     Dugal looked suspicious, but turned and left the room. Fergus
raised a black, bushy eyebrow at the prince.
     "I have honestly no idea where she went," Conor said, seeing
the incredulous look his mentor and future father-in-law gave him.
"On the Roman god, I swear it!"
			*	*	*
     Catriona wiped tears away angrily. She was about four leagues
away from the village now, she estimated mentally, and about four
leagues away from Conor.
     Conor. Already, she yearned to be in his arms again. Her whole
body ached after the night before, but it was an ache she didn't mind.
It was all she had left of him. All she would probably ever have, now.
He must surely be married now, she thought. Why can't this blasted
horse go any faster?
     There was a shout and something small and hard, about the size
of a large peach, hit her in the back and knocked her out of the
saddle. She gasped as she fell. Her head cracked on a large rock.
     People clustered around her, staring down. "We fight for the New
Alliance, under Gaias Cassius Longinus," one of the men said. "We have
need of your horse and your food. We will leave you your belongings."
     Her satchel was dropped next to her and she struggled to grasp
it. She was dimly aware of the horde running off with her food, water,
and horse, but then darkness claimed her.
			*	*	*
     "Look." One of the mounted Druids pointed to the motionless
figure lying in the tall grass, half in the road. "She looks to have
been attacked."
     The Druids returning to Cabbod after the wedding stopped and
got down from their horses. They gathered around Catriona and one
knelt by her side. He felt for a pulse and found it to be weak.
     "She is alive," he pronounced. "We must take her to Cabbod with
us."
     "Would it not be easier to take her to Conor's village?" another
asked.
     The first Druid shook his head. "The wedding is only three hours
past. We should return to Cabbod immediately."
     They examined the cut in her scalp, under her hair, then bandaged
it and lifted her onto Molly's horse. One of the Druids retrieved her
satchel, and they continued on to their fortress-temple.
     The doors to Cabbod opened several hours later and women took
Catriona and her things into their section of the temple. There,
they stripped her of the plain, black travelling gown and dressed the
scrapes on her back.
     "We'll have to shear all of this pretty hair to stitch the wound
on her head," one woman said, about the time that Catriona woke. "Oh,
you're awake now. Good. Don't worry, you're safe."
     Another kindly face came into her view. "You have a terrible
wound on the back of your head. We're going to have to cut your hair
to stitch it. May we have your permission?"
     Catriona closed her eyes and thought about how much Conor said
he loved the unruly curls. But they were right. "Aye," she whispered,
then squeezed her eyes tighter as they began to saw away.
     After she'd been fed and settled in, one of the women took the
 cut hair and took it with her.
			*	*	*
     A week later, the women, Mhorag, Mary (who's son had been the
late Father), Ita, and Skye, presented her with a wig made from her
hair. Catriona accepted it with tears in her eyes.
     "Thank you so much," she said. "This means so much to me."
     Mhorag, a woman in her late seventies, eased her frail body down
onto the bed next to Catriona. "What are you good at, lass?"
     "Well, I'm a healer," she said. "I heal through touch."
     "You mean that you put your hand on the pain and it goes away?"
Ita asked, amazed. She was one of the novices destined to marry a clan
chieftain.
     Catriona nodded.
     "We'll have to put you to work as soon as possible, then," Mary
said.
     Skye spoke up. "Where are you from, Catriona?"
     Catriona looked past them to the window, and the lake beyond.
"A good distance away," was all she said.
			*	*	*
     One morning, after she'd been at Cabbod for about a month, Mhorag
came to visit her while she sat at the window, like she always did.
This time, she'd been up well before dawn.
     "Who is he, lass?" the old woman asked. "You sit here thinking
about someone, surely. You have that distant look Mary gets when
thinking of her dead husband and child."
     Catriona looked down at her clasped hands. "Aye, I think of
someone. A month ago today, he married a novice from here. I love him
with all of my heart, mind, and body, and I know he loves me. But his
marriage was arranged by the Father and would have taken place long
before I met him, had the Father not been killed when the ceremony
was supposed to take place."
     Mhorag nodded. "Ah. A handsome one, that lad. He married sweet
Molly."
     "She wasn't so sweet to me," Catriona said sadly. "She acted as
if I didn't exist, though I was the village healer. When she cut
herself, who was the one that healed the finger? Every time I talked
to Conor, she'd come up and drag him away."
     "Looks to me like she knew very much that you existed, and that
maybe you were more to her future husband than just the village
healer," Mhorag said. "Something very similar happened to me when I
was young, a good sixty years ago."
     "How old were you?"
     "A mere 17," Mhorag said. "Skye is my granddaughter."
     "I turned 17 two months before meeting Conor," Catriona said.
She stood up and started towards the bed. She stopped and swayed, her
hand to her forehead.
     "Catriona, are you feeling alright? You look pale."
     Catriona hesitated. "I'm feeling a wee bit . . . " She fell to
her knees and began vomitting, the wig falling off her head.
     Mhorag turned and ran as fast as her old body would allow to the
door. "Skye, Mary, Ita! Please come help Catriona!"
     The three younger women rushed in and helped Catriona to the bed.
After cleaning up the mess, the four of them gathered around her bed
and watched her as she drifted off to sleep.
     "What do you think's wrong with her?" Skye asked.
     Mary felt Catriona's forehead. "She hasn't had her flow. She told
me so herself. She might be with child."
     "But who?" Ita asked.
     "Molly's husband," Mhorag said, and left the room without another
word.
			*	*	*
Six months later
     Conor pressed his forehead to the cool stone and sighed. He'd
dreamt about Catriona again, like he had for the past seven months.
It was always the same dream, about their night together, and a
feeling that he needed to find her, and find a way to marry her.
     His wife wasn't doing much better. She was distracted and moody,
and spent quite a bit of time talking to Dugal. Maybe a bit too much.
     And Tully and Caitlin! Conor shook his head. They'd be bickering
one moment, then act as if it never happened. They'd sit close and
talk about things Conor didn't know if he wanted to know about. He
felt like screaming at Tully, "Wed her, bed her, and get it over
with!" That would probably make things even worse.
     Molly came in at that moment. "Conor?"
     "Aye?"
     "Can we talk?"
     He raised his head and stepped away from the wall. "About what?"
     Molly sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Conor, this just
isn't working. Three times last night alone, you called out to some-
one named Caiti. I know you wouldn't take a mistress, and we haven't
consummated our marriage yet, even if it is symbolic.
     "I've since learned that the name of the village healer, who
went missing the day of our wedding, was Dugal's sister, and she was
named Catriona. But I don't really care. I can tell you love her, no
matter what I did to keep it from happening."
     She looked up at him with blue eyes the same colour as Catriona's.
"I'm in love with Dugal, Conor. You're in love with Catriona." She
smiled suddenly. "Maybe we could go to Cabbod, have the marriage un-
done, and I could wed Dugal. You would be able to marry Catriona, and
we'd all be happy. Since Dugal is Catriona's sister, and-"
     Conor had been thinking about her plan, and said, "There's one
problem, Molly. It's a good plan, but I have no idea where Caiti is.
She left the morning of the wedding and I haven't seen her for seven
months. She could have left Eire, could have married another, or-"
He shook his head violently. "No, she's not dead. I'd know it. If
she were dead, the dreams would have stopped long ago."
     He sighed. "All right. We'll do it. The Cabbod part, I mean. But
we have to tell Fergus. And we'll need to take him and Dugal with us."
			*	*	*
     Catriona looked up from her embroidery at the sound of
approaching horses. There were four riders, and one looked large
enough to be her brother. The lead rider looked like . . .
     Conor! It can't be, her mind reasoned with her. But it was.
Conor was coming to Cabbod! Why was he bringing Molly, Fergus, and
Dugal? One of the twins kicked, and Catriona unconsciously placed her
 hand over the spot. Slowly, she got to her feet.
     Her hair, now just past her shoulders, growing faster than her
normal one inch a month because of the pregnancy, refused to be
covered by her hood, so she left it. The curls were even more unruly
than before. Carefully, she gathered up her basket and started walking
towards the visitors.
     "Look!" Fergus pointed to the advancing figure. "Here comes
someone."
     "It's Caiti!" Conor said, astonished, his eyes fixed on her.
     "And she's *pregnant*!" Dugal said, rather unnecessarily, as
a gust of wind blew up and pressed her robes so they outlined her
rounded figure.
     Conor felt both elated and sick to his stomach. He could feel
Molly's eyes focused on him but refused to look at his wife. He
watched Catriona approach as if in slow motion.
     The toe of Catriona's slipper caught on a stone and she lost her
balance and slid into a half-sitting position a few feet farther down
the hill than before. Her basket tumbled down the grassy slope. There
was a muffled curse, a thump like someone jumping from a horse, and
then strong arms were lifting her.
     "Are you alright?" Conor asked into her hair. Her heart beating
rapidly, she nodded dumbly.
     "My balance has been a bit off, recently," she said, as one of
the twins kicked.
     Conor stepped back, surprised. "How many do you have in there?"
he blurted out.
     "Two," she said breathlessly, seeing the look in his eyes. "Both
yours."
     Luckily, the others arrived just after she'd said it. Dugal
moved towards her, his face clouded with anger, and she ducked behind
Conor.
     "Catriona, where have you been, why did you leave, and why, for
Danu's sake, are you pregnant?" Dugal asked.
     "One, I've been here at Cabbod since I was attacked by members
of the New Alliance and the Druids returning from Conor and Molly's
wedding found me; two, I left because I love Conor and didn't think
I could stand to see the man I love marry another; and three, I'm
pregnant because I was with Conor the night before I left."
			*	*	*			
     "Longinus, would you please stop pacing!" Diana complained from
her couch, where she lounged, waiting impatiently for him to come to
her.
     Longinus turned to Diana and fixed her with a cold stare. She
shrank back, almost cowering. "You forget your place," he said softly.
     He turned to look out the window. "The daughter of Aislinn and
Gavin lives, Diana. You had her family killed, but didn't kill her.
Why?"
     "I didn't know about her," Diana said. "And I thought her
presence, after finding out about her, might bother you. So I left
her."
     Longinus' blonde hair fluttered in a non-existant breeze. "I
have to find her. Somehow, she will know how to end my suffering."
			*	*	*
     "You know, I'm glad the Druids decided to go along with your
crazy plan, Conor, instead of killing all of us," Fergus said. "I've
heard tales of them doing that."
     "Aye, they do that sometimes," Molly said. "I've seen it. But
the Druids at Cabbod don't do that. Only the lesser sects do. The
Father put a stop to the sacrifices."
     Catriona shuddered. "I'm glad, too. They'd been killing seven
people."
     Dugal looked over at his sister, who rode a white horse next
to her new husband, Conor. His own wife, Molly, rode just ahead of
him. He wasn't too happy with Catriona's decisions, but she was married
to the prince now, and there was nothing he could say about it.
     Something shot past his head and he turned to see Conor start to
tumble from the saddle, an arrow piercing his shoulder. Dugal pulled
out his own bow and returned fire as Catriona and Molly screamed.
     Catriona pulled her horse to a halt and quickly got off. She knelt
next to Conor, who looked very pale. "Conor, just lay still. You've
been shot."
     She pulled with all of her strength and freed the arrow, tossing
it aside. Laying her hands across the bloody hole, staring into his
eyes, she began to heal it. All of her concentration went into the
task, she didn't notice Molly run for help, followed by Dugal, who
continued to fire on the Romans.
     Fergus pulled her up in the middle of her healing. "Run, lass!
I'll get Conor!"
     Catriona began to run as fast as she could, ending up with a sort
of jog-waddle.
     Conor struggled into a sitting postion and the two men watched in
horror as the Roman soldiers rode past them and one of them caught
Catriona and pulled her up onto his horse.
     "Caiti!" Conor yelled.
     Looking back at her husband, Catriona prayed that the gods would
take care of him and heal him, and that no harm would come to her or
the twins. She turned to the Roman soldier she was riding with.
     "Where are we going?" she asked.
     "To Queen Diana and Lord Longinus."
			*	*	*
     Conor coughed and took another sip from the cup Fergus held for
him. "This is the second time in a year that I've been shot, you
realise."
     "Aye, I know." Fergus took the cup and set it aside. "Why do you
think the Romans wanted Caiti?"
     Conor shook his head. "I don't ken that, Fergus."
     Some sort of horn was blown outside and someone yelled, "Make way
for King Conell!"
     Fergus raised a bushy brow. "Who in the blazes is King Conell,
and why would he be comin' here?"
     "I don't know, Fergus. Help me up and on with something. I need
to be the one to recieve him."
     A bit reluctantly, Fergus helped, and they went outside to see
ten riders on magnificent white horses. The man in the lead was tall,
with coal black hair and blue eyes.
     "That must be King Conell," Fergus remarked.
     "Quiet, Fergus." Conor stepped forward as the man jumped down
from his horse. "I'm Prince Conor."
     "And I'm Conell. This is my wife, Queen Elspeth," Conell added,
as a tall blonde woman moved to join him. "We have heard that the
Romans have our niece, and we wish to help get her back."
     "Are you of the O' Doniall clan?" Conor asked.
     Conell shook his head. "Her paternal clan. Her mother was my
sister."
     "So who exactly are you?" Caitlin asked. Tully stood next to her,
almost protectively.
     "Conell, king of the Tuatha de Danaan."
			*	*	*
     Catriona's eyes snapped open. In her mind, she could see her
uncle, whom she'd only met once, and his wife, talking with Conor, who
looked very weak. Just as he collapsed, Elspeth lifted him easily and
carried him back inside.
     *What do these visions mean?* she asked herself. Never before in
her life had she shown signs of the second sight. Yes, she'd known her
mother was Princess Aislinn of Tir na n'Og, but she'd been pretty so-
what to it. In that moment, it finally hit Catriona that she was half-
Sidhe. Though she'd always known she was, it didn't connect until that
moment.
     "Danu beannacht mi," she whispered, just as Queen Diana entered
the room. Inwardly, Catriona groaned. Diana had been exceedingly kind
to her, which was very odd, given the stories Catriona'd heard about
the Roman queen.
     "Good evening, Catriona," Diana said in accented Gaelic. "I really
didn't want you to be tied up, and I know it's painful, but Longinus
insisted. And though I'm the queen, I don't have any power any more."
     Catriona glared at Diana. "If you're so against having me tied up,
why don't you untie me?"
     Diana came to sit next to her on the couch. "I'll do you one
better. I actually owe your husband a favour. He tried to kill Longinus,
which I commend him for. How about if I go tell your husband where you
are?"
     "I think he already knows, but thank you for offering," Catriona
said. "It really isn't wise to hold me captive like this."
     "Oh? And why not?" Longinus asked, coming into the room. He hadn't
heard what Diana had said to the prisoner, and he wasn't sure if he
wanted to know.
     Diana shrank back. In Longinus' hands, he held an iron branding
rod. Reflexively, she touched the burn scar on her arm where Longinus
had branded her. "Longinus, I don't think it would be wise to-"
     "Diana. You forget your place, once again, my dear."
     Catriona didn't like the look on Longinus' face. "What are you
going to do with that?"
     "I'm going to make you swear loyalty to me, instead of that Celt
you married." Longinus thrust the brand into the fire.
     Catriona shivered involuntarily as he came towards her with it.
"I'll never join you!"
     "We'll see about that," Longinus said, and moved to burn her with
the brand.
     There was a crack of lightning and Longinus was thrown back against
the opposite wall. In a sudden burst of strength, Catriona snapped the
ropes binding her.
     "I said I'd never join you!" Catriona raised her hand and Longinus
floated into the air. She slammed him into the wall again. "I warned
you that it wasn't wise to hold me captive, but you didn't listen. You
killed my mother because she was Sidhe. Did you forget that I was half-
Sidhe?"
     Conor stood in the doorway, staring at the display. Conell stood
on his left, Fergus on his right. The prince would have called to
Catriona, but Conell stopped him.
     "This is something she needs to do, Conor. This man killed her
family, my sister, and he's held her captive, endangering her and her
children. He's also the cause of your pain and suffering. Let her vent
her anger on him. He can't die. How would it really harm him?"
     "I want her to kill him," Conor said.
     Conell shook his head. "Only by the will of Danu or the Daghda
could she do that. She apparently inherited her mother's abilities, but
she is not that strong, yet."
     "Yet?" Fergus echoed. "Look at that!"
     Conell stepped forward. "Catriona, stop."
     Catriona let Longinus fall to the ground, though not voluntarily.
All her energy was gone suddenly. She took two steps towards her uncle
and husband and dropped. Moving faster than Conor could see, Conell had
her in his arms and back over to the door before she'd hit the ground.
     Elspeth, who had stayed behind the men, stepped forward then. She
waved her arms and the group vansihed. Diana stayed pressed against the
wall, staring in shock at the empty doorway.
			*	*	*
One month later
     "Come on, Caiti, you can do it!" Conor coached softly. His wife was
crushing his hand, but he didn't care.
     Elspeth muttered something and tapped herself on the forehead twice.
Then she pressed a hand down on Catriona's stomach. "Push once more,
Caiti," she said. "I can see the top of baby number one's head."
     With a hoarse scream, Catriona heaved and the baby slid out into
Elspeth's hands. "It's a boy," the other woman said. Quickly, she tied
off the cord and sliced it in the middle, then handed the baby to Molly,
who began the cleaning process.
     "He has brown eyes," Molly said, a little surprised. "I thought all
babies were born with blue eyes."
     Elspeth shook her head. "It would seem that way, but only with blue,
green, or hazel eyes are they born with blue. I've delivered enough to
know."
     Catriona took a deep breath as another contraction started. "Aunt
Elspeth, isn't there something you can do to make the baby just pop out?"
     Elspeth laughed. "I wish there were, child. Then we wouldn't lose so
many mothers and children in childbirth."
     Minutes later, Elspeth was handing the second baby to Molly, who
said, "Oh, she's so cute! Not at all like her brother!"
     "Hey!" Conor said indignantly. He'd already decided that the boy
looked very much like him.
     After both children were clean and wrapped in soft wool, and Elspeth
had assisted Catriona with the clean-up process, Conor asked, "So what
should we name them?"
     Catriona thought for a moment. "I think we should name the girl Maeve."
     "How about Galen?" Conor asked. "After all, if he hadn't convinced me
to become the leader of the Confederation, you wouldn't have been riding to
join us, and you wouldn't have been attacked-"
     "And you wouldn't have rescued me. Yes, Galen is a good name. We'll
plant their trees as soon as I'm well." Catriona sighed and closed her
eyes. In moments, she was asleep.
     Conor took Galen and carried him outside, where most of the village
was gathered. He held up his first-born son and said, "This is my son,
Galen. You will treat him, and my daughter, Maeve, as you treat me."
     "A son, is it?" Fergus asked. "I'll bet he's goin' t' end up just like
his da."
     Conor laughed sheepishly and the crown cheered.
				THE END